The Magic of Oaxaca, Mexico

If visitors to Oaxacan cooking school La Casa de los Sabores came away with nothing more than great recipes and a gastronomic meal rich in unique herb- and spice-accented flavor combinations that are the hallmark of Oaxacan cuisine, they would leave fully satisfied. But a visit with owner and chef extraordinaire Pilar Cabrera also inspires and sates travelers with a sensual day-long immersion into sights, sounds, smells and, yes, tastes and time-tested recipes of southern Mexico.
As always, a recent culinary odyssey with Pili, as she is known, began at La Casa de los Sabores first thing in the morning – at 9:30 a.m. Over the next few hours, she introduced me and the others in the class to the wisdom and experience of her great matriarchal culinary tradition. Pili learned the basics and the subtleties, including the mysteries of the famed seven moles, from her grandmother, who learned from her grandmother before her. She is a Oaxaca-born master of southern Mexico cookery as well as international epicurean trends, capable of sharing the secrets of preparing the most multifarious meal with novice and expert alike – in English and in Spanish.
Our day began with Pili's informal talk about the menu and the foods she was going to introduce us to in one of Oaxaca’s colorful markets. The extra attention to the key ingredients of Oaxacan cuisine kept us spellbound. "What we will achieve today with the chilis," she told us, "is hot and tropical … with the Chile de agua, you will see we use it not only for flavor but color as well, and I will teach you how we keep this beautiful, brilliant green."
Once prepared with this knowledge, we all embarked on a shopping trip to the well-known marketplace, Mercado de La Merced, armed with multihued bolsas – market bags – to carry the compras – purchases. Pili had readied a partial shopping list, but, she advised us, she always adds "surprises," such as fresh foodstuffs which peasant women from the mountains sometimes bring down.

"When you have a chance to find something real special or unusual, you buy and incorporate into the comida," she explained. "Today, for instance, we look for mushrooms, because they grow so beautifully in the rainy season. Also, we will see what kind of fresh fruit we can use for the dessert."

Her insights into the unique stores and small factories enriched the short walk to the market. A rich bouquet drew us into a mill that was making chocolate from scratch. As Pilar told us about the ingredients – cacao, cinnamon, almonds and sugar – the owner welcomed us with, "do you want to taste?"

The lesson began in earnest when Pilar began methodically searching through the indoor and outdoor portions of the marketplace and exchanging pesos for its plethora of fresh produce.

"Look at that lady sitting there, what she has in those bowls," she said. "She just brought those raspberries and blackberries from the Sierra Juarez. We can use them for the dessert. Notice how fresh and beautiful. The mushrooms beside them, see the size, how big and the bright orange color … this is the time of year, but not for our recipe today … Over here, we don’t buy the big green tomatillos. I prefer the little ones grown locally because they are not acidy like the others, and they have much more flavor, perfect for the salsa we are preparing today."

She encouraged us to smell the herbs as she explained their use in particular Oaxacan dishes. "Today we use this hierba santa for the mole," she said as she was examining samples of the fragrant leaf until she'd found the best and freshest for storage in one of our bolsas. "But we also use it to wrap fish and make tamales."

Lynet who had been in Puerto Escondido on the Oaxacan coast for six months, expressed the wish of many as she lamented, "I wish I’d been in this class at the beginning of our trip."

Our enthusiasm and our appetites grew once we returned to Doña Pili’s well-equipped, spacious kitchen. Its wide counters, food preparation island and eight-burner gas stove opening onto the lush courtyard dining area made this cocina into an ideal classroom.

While we were reviewing printed recipe sheets for the dishes we were about to prepare, she displayed our purchases in baskets filled with the components of each recipe to help us learn why we bought what. Then we spent the next two hours preparing a sumptuous four-course meal.

Mary, her sous-chef, did preparatory work such as halving limes, slicing chilies and preparing chicken stock and poultry for the mole, freeing Pili to teach us the rituals and secrets of Oaxacan culinary seduction. Sparks from Pilar’s hearth of experience ignited even the most learned in the class as she pointed, touched, and passed around each item we purchased, telling us how it would be incorporated into the meal.

Once the actual cooking began, she put her bilingualism to good use, giving instructions and asking questions in one language, then repeating it in the other, as required by some of her visitors. "Necesito otro ayudante para quesillo, I need another helper for the cheese." Pilar might as well be a Maestra de Español, a Spanish teacher to boot.

Everyone learned each task and participated in the preparation of virtually all menu items. And as the group peeled, diced and sautéd, Pili's gems of information flowed on.
We learned much more than how to achieve flavor. Pilar taught us techniques on how to attain desired tones and textures: "A lot of people ask me about cleaning mushrooms," she said at one point, demonstrating the correct technique. "Now watch to see how we clean and seed this kind of chili," she pointed out while preparing chile guajillo for the mole. "Once we start cooking these chile de agua, we need to remember to always check them and turn them constantly."
"Look for the hot part of the comal … now this is when you know when to turn it over," she said while demonstrating the art and science of making tortillas.

Every once in a while a new recipe rolled off the tip of her tongue as we worked … other dishes we could prepare with this particular mole; different fillings for the quesadillas such as potato, chorizo or huitlacoche, the exotic corn mold ... the texture we would want for the corn masa if we were making tamales rather than tortillas.

Soon, aprons removed, we were ready to feast. But first – "now before we sit down, remember in the market I told you there were two types of gusano worm? Here they are, so who wants to try?" she asked. "Now know about mezcal. Taste this one Alvin brought, and tell us how it seems to you. Here’s another kind. What do you think is different about this one?"

We sat down at a table exquisitely set with local hand-made linens, dishes and stemware. Bottles of Mexican and Chilean red wine were already breathing. The fine music of Oaxacan songstress Lila Downs serenaded us in the background.

Pilar reminded us that her grandmother and other relatives usually prepare their comidas with meat and all vegetables mixed together in the mole, a plate of rice on the side, and a bowl of broth. But our meal, like all the recipes she prepares with visitors at La Casa de los Sabores, would be her modern take on all the elements and flavor combinations of the best that contemporary Oaxacan cookery has to offer.

It was a celebration of every ingredient. We began with wild mushroom, onion, tomato, chili and cheese stuffing in the quesadillas de champiñones (mushroom quesadillas), complemented perfectly by smoky salsa verde asada (green sauce from the grill) served in its molcajete. Then it was time to calm our palates with bright yellow crema de flor de calabaza (cream of squash blossom soup), garnished with a drizzle of real cream, toasted calabaza seeds and indeed fresh squash blossoms. The main course or plato fuerte was mole amarillo – tender slices of chicken breast atop a sea of aromatic deep saffron-colored mole, accompanied by a medley of crunchy-fresh steamed vegetables. To conclude, arroz con leche (rice pudding), speared with a length of wild vanilla bean and crowned with berries that had been picked only the day before.

I left convinced that the grandest chefs at the most trendy Manhattan beaneries would be hard-pressed to compete with this petite Oaxaqueña's ability to marry the region’s complex cooking with post-modern attention to color, texture and flare. For Pilar Cabrera, it comes naturally. For the rest of us, it comes with a visit to her home.

Guadua ranks arguably as the best restaurant and bar in Puerto Escondido in terms of both ambiance, and quality and creativity of fare. In fact for this reviewer it’s a full notch above the rest.

The restaurant’s designer has done an impeccable job of creating an atmosphere fitting a bistro on the beach, yet with class and subtlety, and a conspicuous lack of that all-too-prevalent and overpowering nautical paraphernalia. No walking over an arched mini-bridge onto these sturdy hardwood planked floor boards. With its full open concept, there’s nary a wall to hang a dolphin, a net, or an oversized photo of the owner’s big catch. While structurally a palapa, the configuration is more than simply functional cross beams and uprights supporting palm leaf; posts are erected at aesthetically pleasing and unusual angles, worthy of note in Architectural Digest. Lighting, while somewhat dim for late night dining, is provided by bulbs dangling inside smartly strung over-sized patterned burlap balls.

Waiters are quick to welcome, take your drink order and arrive back with a basket of warm, multi-grain hand-sliced loaf. The recorded music consists of tasteful Latin-style new age, but only until the fifty-something Cuban-born troubadour sets up with his companion off to a corner to serenade with familiar soft rock and the odd Spanish tune. Otherwise there’s the sound of the surf, with the sand virtually at your feet and ocean merely yards away.

Our first appetizer was tuna timbal with couscous, consisting of chilled and properly fluffed couscous lightly tossed with cucumber, purple onion, avocado and diced fresh tuna marinated in garlic ginger soya sauce. Each ingredient retained its distinctive flavor. The soya was used sufficiently sparingly so as to not overpower. Equally impressive for its ability to showcase each component was the eggplant bruschetta … a purée with roasted tomato, melted Roquefort and homemade mayonnaise, over the requisite thick rounds of toast.

The seared white fish baked in rosemary butter was prepared to perfection, and arrived with sides of salad and mashed potatoes. My long pasta with parmesan and cream cheese with cracked cardamom was cooked to the optimum degree of doneness, but required a bit of doctoring to bring out the Indian spice. The tuna loin lived up to its "rare on the inside" billing, often a struggle to achieve when dining in southern Mexico. Once again the marinade, a teriyaki, was well understated.

We completed our cena with snifters of Torres 10 brandy, and shared the lemon pie frozen to perfect consistency, with hibiscus flower coulis, and then a personal size dark chocolate cake filled with melted white chocolate, accompanied by vanilla ice cream and cacao brandy sauce.

The menu selections at Guadua cover all the usual bases, so there’s little if any likelihood you’ll have difficulty finding offerings which call out to the palate. But the expected ends there. Whether it’s the guacamole with grasshoppers or grilled vegetables with balsamic vinegar from the appetizers; arugula salad mixed with slices of parmesan, fig and lemon olive oil vinaigrette; a burger or baguette; tomato dill soup with sautéed shrimp; a filet mignón basted with green pepper brandy cream sauce; or the more standard seafood selections, each is accented with its own Guadua touch.

With tip and taxes included, appetizers, soups, salads and lighter fare range from 50 to 100 pesos; and entrées from 100 to 160 pesos. Hard to beat? I thought so too!

Guadua
Tamaulipas esq. con Zona Federal
Col. Brisas de Zicatela
Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca
Tel: (954) 107-9524

Travelers to Oaxaca often ensure that they visit either Arrazola or San Martín Tilcajete, the two most renowned villages where local craftspeople make hand-carved and brilliantly painted, fanciful wooden figures, commonly referred to as alebrijes. However, there’s a workshop owned by Jacobo and María Ängeles that stands out from the rest, in the latter town. All the townsfolk know who they are, so tracking down their production facility is not difficult. In fact, they own a wonderful new restaurant right at the entranceway to the town known as Azucena Zapoteca, so it's best to simply pop into the eatery, have a snack or comida, look at their works and that of other top-quality artists from other parts of the country also on display, and then carry on with the benefit of handwritten directions.

The differences between what one encounters in this workshop and the rest are remarkable. You’ll be asked to sit down and learn about the craft while at the same time enjoying a demonstration while witnessing members of the Ängeles family at various stages of their work, ranging from rough carving to fine finishing and then detailed painting.
You’ll leave with a better understanding of:
-how the wood of the copal tree is used to make alebrijes, and why;
-why all parts of the tree are used, ranging from trunk to bark to sap;
-the process by which natural dyes are used and combined to produce different colors;
-the indigenous Zapotec symbolism represented in the intricate designs;
-what thinking process goes into selecting a particular piece of wood;
-how the pieces are dried and preserved so the purchaser of a collector-quality piece won’t encounter common problems with cracking and/or minute insects eating away at a prized purchase once home on the mantelpiece.

Finally, you’ll be welcomed to take a tour of the showroom, without any pressure to buy. Sure, the pieces are high-end, and perhaps your budget doesn’t warrant such an expenditure or investment. But what you’ve learned about this longstanding Oaxacan tradition will be invaluable, and perhaps even move you to make a nominal donation to the workshop’s operating costs. For my thinking, dropping a few pesos into a basket reduces, if not eliminates, the guilt of not buying.

The museum and research and learning facilities of the grana cochinilla fina, more commonly referred to as the cochineal, is one of Oaxaca’s best-kept secrets...unfortunately. If it warranted a stop on the busy schedule of Prince Charles, then surely it ought to be considered as part of any Oaxacan sojourn. This tiny bug, which attaches itself to the nopal cactus, since the 1700s has been know to produce one of the strongest red dyes known to humankind. In fact, in 1758, Oaxacan exported over 1.5 million pounds of the pigment to Europe, Africa, and Asia.

At the time of the conquest, the Spanish noted that the indigenous populations of the valley of Oaxaca were dying their clothes, foods, and household items with a brilliant red dye. Synthetic dyes were unknown, and this pigment was stronger than any previously used colorations around the globe. The Spanish therefore embarked upon an export industry, sending the dried cochineal overseas. During the 1700s, cochineal was the most valuable commodity on the world stage next to gold and silver.

By taking a tour of the facility, which, by the way, is only a kilometer away from the famed black-pottery village of San Bartolo Coyotepec, which shouldn't be missed, you’ll learn about the historical importance of the insect on the world stage, its life cycle, and how it's produced, harvested, and dried. Most importantly, you’ll have an opportunity to learn of its current applications. In Oaxaca it’s used to produce the red, orange, and purple dye, the pigment utilized in the fine all-wool rugs found in the town of Teotitlan del Valle. However, what’s even more astounding is that even today, internationally, the cochineal insect is used to color makeup and lipsticks, Campbell and Knorr soups, Danone yoghurt, and even Campari.

Walk through the outdoor museum and ranch and learn about other natural dyes as well, and finally watch a 12-minute video that puts the importance of the cochineal in its proper historic and contemporary context.

It's surprising to learn of the existence of this site on a route passing through other better-known stops along the highway, but after a tour of the facility, it ends up ranking high, and for good reason.

The use of locally mined cantera stone in hews of green, pink, and yellow is a tradition in Oaxaca dating to pre-Hispanic times, when it was the foundation for temples and administrative buildings of, amongst others, the Zapotec and Mixtec civilizations. The stone was also used at that time in sculpting deities and other adornments. The tradition in both usages, utilitarian and aesthetic, has continued to date.

One of its most well-known and prolific sculptors is Adolfo Cruz, recently retired from his fine-arts teaching post at the Benito Juarez University in Oaxaca. Maestro Adolfo, for some 35 years, has been sculpting cantera for use in modern buildings, while at the same time maintaining his reputation as a master sculptor of stone and bronze. His workshop houses the only bronzing foundry in the state. He is often called upon by government and the Church to restore and refurbish historic buildings that have suffered from the wear of centuries and periodic earthquakes.

Adventurers and those with an interest in art now have an opportunity to meet with this grand maestro in his facility in Magdalena Etla, a 10-minute journey beyond the well-known Wednesday market town of Etla. Just follow the highway north out of town, taking the first left onto a dirt road after passing the Oaxaca Industrial Park. His gallery is actually along that highway, on the left, a couple of hundred meters from the Industrial Park.

You’ll have an opportunity to learn about the varied applications of the three types of cantera; the modern machinery recently acquired by Adolfo, enabling him to create with more precision and less labor cost; and the process by which he fashions cantera sculptures and bronzes. For the collector, there will be an opportunity to purchase one-of-a-kind pieces at a fraction of American costs for similar quality.

Adolfo’s daughter, Nely, is an artist in her own right, working at the same facility and, following in her father’s steps, teaching at the fine-arts school. She works with a variety of media, but what "pays the rent" are her fine-cut cantera-stone jewelry pieces, predominantly earrings and pendants.

For those with a particular artistic orientation who are visiting Oaxaca, a trip to Magdalena Etla provides a uniquely rewarding experience.

With so many interesting stops on the Friday route from Oaxaca to Ocotlán, most tourists err in missing one of the most fascinating sites in town, the cuchillería of knifemaker Ängel Aguilar. Step hundreds of years back into history to find a Toledo steel-style hand-forging facility that makes custom knives and cutlery. One of Ängel’s claims to fame is having forged swords used by Arnold in "Conan the Barbarian."

Ängel uses only recycled metals, such as car springs and pistons, and discarded brass plumbing pieces to make his blades. Walk to the stone and clay hearth, where the maestro demonstrates how he heats the oven to 4,000 degrees using an old bellows that feeds air over charcoal. Watch the shaping and tempering process and see how blade sharpness and flexibility is achieved through the use of heat, cooling in water, and hammer and anvil. Marvel at him and an assistant so in tune with one another as they use rhythm to shape a blade, one hammering the steel a fraction of a second after the other, reminiscent of the sound of synchronized hoof movements of a cantering horse.

Levity peppers the demonstration when, while learning of the use of tropical wood, skin, and antler for fashioning handles, a foot-long piece of bone is held up Ängel, grinning that "de tourist bone make good handle." If that doesn’t lighten up your experience, then accept the offer of complimentary mezcal.

Next, move to the grinding wheels and learn how blades achieve a brilliant shine, not with the use of chrome or nickel, but rather through a process of using heat and friction, moving the blade over a metal spinning wheel covered with cotton and grades of handmade sandpaper, and then another of cardboard treated with filaments of wax. Witness another of Ängel´s talents, while he uses his experience in "the university of life" to engrave a blade using a protective coating of ink made of tar, tree sap, gasoline, and paint thinner, and thereafter immerses it in nitric acid. He’ll custom engrave your name and/or a limerick perhaps with flowing flowers and leaves.

You’ll be shown a variety of pieces awaiting personalization, such as bone-handled cake servers, a letter opener, different styles of hunting knife, or perhaps a set of cutlery. You’ll also see a number of collector pieces, like a dagger with a lengthy polished deer antler with brass finishes as the handle.

The "show" will hold the interest of everyone because of the intriguing process and the broad range of products: teenagers wanting a custom souvenir, the hunter seeking a wild boar engraved on a piece, a homemaker wanting unique dining pieces with engraved surname, or those looking for a personalized gift, such as a letter opener.

Youngsters approach while you’re sitting at a café, but they don’t have the experience or range of polish colors and accessories required for you to get the most from what they offer: a shoeshine. Instead, visit a seasoned professional in the zócalo; relax in a chair, feet raised to the optimum level; and read the local daily you’ll be offered. If you struggle with Spanish, ask for "Noticias" and look for the English page.

With pant legs raised and sock guards inserted, before going further, your purveyor of polishes may ask you to choose, if he’s not quite certain that the dye is right for those wine shoes. Sit back under the shade of a tree lining Oaxaca’s central square, or elsewhere, while the ceremony unfolds.

Dust is removed. Soapy liquid is applied, then dried off. The shoes are brushed again, and then dye is applied with a large brush for tops and sides and a smaller one for sole edges. Colored paste is rubbed on, followed by a clear cream. After further brushing, another layer of cream is applied, and then a buffing. Any doubt about the color of the sole edges (should they be black or match the tops)? Remedial measures are taken. Another brushing, then more cream, yet another brushing, and a final buffing.

At 10 pesos, there’s no better bargain to help you to look and feel better. Regardless of your personality type, budget, or other excuse to not indulge, if you didn’t bring at least one pair of leathers with you, you’re missing out, unless you can find a couple of strips of cowhide on those runners.

I met my favorite shiner, Pedro, a year ago when he was working as a laborer with bricklayer aspirations. He earned 150 pesos daily when there was work. Then an opportunity arose for him to be his own boss. These tradesmen don’t do that badly eking out a living considering the average annual wage in the state is about 56,000 pesos. Pedro works his spot from 9am to 6pm. The location and chair are leased. He’s responsible for polishes, rags, and brushes, and for paying the storage fee to have his stand secure at night. Apart from paying for polishes and accessories, his costs total 675 pesos monthly. He grosses about 175 pesos daily, working 6 days. He therefore nets 3,871.50 pesos monthly.

At 46,500 annually, while below state average, there’s potential for more if working evenings, and he’s his own boss. If a week arises when Pedro can work elsewhere and make more, he simply tells his boss and his spot is held for him without penalty. From the perspective of his lessor, if Pedro is reliable, it’s better to periodically forgo a week’s rental income than lease to someone else who may prove less conscientious about fulfilling his contractual obligations.

When in Oaxaca, there’s always more to do than even the most enlightening of tourist guidebooks can detail.

Venture out of Oaxaca towards Mitla and beyond, perhaps on the secondary paved road leading to Hierve el Agua, to really appreciate mezcal, the state’s alcoholic beverage, sister to tequila. Simply stopping by a downtown retailer and sampling a few varieties doesn’t do justice to what you can otherwise learn and appreciate "out on the road" in terms of both the age-old production techniques and the flavor nuances not unlike those encountered on a California wine tour or in the Scottish highlands sampling single malts.

First stop at a better-known factory such as Casa Chagoya, a mile before arriving at the Sunday market town of Tlacolula. Tour the facility, perhaps by Michael, an English-speaking friend of the Chagoya family. Learn how agave, from which mezcal is derived, is grown; the varieties of the plant used for making mezcal; how the base or piña is baked for days in an in-ground brick lined oven; how the then caramelized plant material is mashed by a horse pulling a huge stone; then fermented with only water added; distilled in a firewood fueled clay oven; and finally oak-aged.

At the tasting bar, you’ll learn the significance of the worm traditionally put in the bottle and discern taste differences between product not aged and aged between 1 and 8 years. Try mezcal blended with medicinal herbs and citrus, and then sample the sweet varieties, such as passion fruit, coffee, and almond. Different sized bottles are available, thereby addressing all budgets and import restrictions. Whatever product is selected is sealed, so you avoid the problem of getting unsealed spirits through airport x-ray machines.

Your experience should not end with this formal tour and tasting. Continue along Highway 190 to Matatlán, the state’s mezcal capital, where virtually every business in town is a production facility. Better yet, travel off the beaten path towards Hierve el Agua. The latter, a much more rustic experience, is preferred. Between Mitla and the San Lorenzo cutoff, you’ll pass roadside primitive palenques, where you’ll witness the process in less sophisticated surroundings. While here you won’t be able to buy mezcal to take home because it’s sold in plastic gas containers or Coca-Cola bottles, you’ll encounter one or two facilities at different stages of production, providing an opportunity to see the agave baking under the earth; taste the charred plant before fermentation; watch the beast of burden playing its part in the process; or sip the mezcal from a gourd as it drips from the still. You’ll never witness a more rural and real slice of Mexican life.

At the last mom-and-pop operation before turning off to San Lorenzo and Hierve el Agua, on the left you’ll encounter a facility, which is combined with a roadside eatery, a "must" every time we travel the route. The choice of fare is limited, but everything, including tortillas, will be cooked fresh to order on an open flame. Life can’t get much better.

Oaxacan visitors should not be afraid to drink water in restaurants, avoid ice, shun produce, or enjoy street fare. This journal is not medical advice, but an opinion of a resident who, since 1991, has been familiarizing himself with Oaxacan society. Do exercise caution, since Mexico is a third-world country where health and cleanliness standards are different than those of the first-world West.

Here are right “facts”, or rules, that might make your vacation a richer culinary experience than it would otherwise be, although perhaps adding some paranoia:

1) Restaurants use bottled water whether serving it plain or as a fruit-juice mix, and in making ice cubes.
2) Restaurants disinfect produce using special disinfectant or a bleach solution. Of course, things do slip through the cracks and staff can be sloppy.
3) If tempted to eat on the street, watch for the server’s cleanliness and food handling. If you see a 19-liter blue plastic bottle alongside the eatery, it’s fairly safe to assume bottled water is being used. But you won’t see disinfectant, so to play it safe have your quesadilla without greens. With the popular corn on the cob or kernels in a cup, if the water is boiling, you’re probably safe. If you are in a marketplace towards day’s end, tempted to have a meat plate, note that the beef or pork has probably not been under refrigeration. If it’s chicken, again, remember the time of day, determine if it will have to be reheated, and in any event, watch to ensure the poultry is well grilled. Does the sauce contains peppers that have not been well cooked?
4) Rather than buy a cup of peeled mango or grapefruit, do it yourself. You don’t know if the vendor’s knife has been cleaned with purified water, how long the fruit has been exposed, or if the preparer’s hands have gone over the peel and then onto the naked fruit. Why trust the preparation methods? However, if you control the cutting and peeling, hopefully you’ll be vigilant and get the gist of this point. Buy a knife and use it to peel fruit, even if you see a small label noting American produce. Others have handled it before you.
5) Anything with a wrapper, such as ice cream or candies, should be safe.
6) Urban locals are also vigilant, so if you see a number of perhaps middle-class or reasonably educated Oaxacans at an eatery, it’s probably fine assuming it has a reputation for safe fare. Many street-side haunts exist around the city and popular market-day restaurants.
7) At first sign of stomach problems, don’t wait to see if they dissipate. Your vacation doesn’t have to be a wipe out. Pharmacies have effective non-prescription meds. I recommend asking for Cipro, starting on it, and continuing for your entire visit.
8) You can become ill dining at white-linen restaurants, too. They’re not immune to running afoul of rules of safe food preparation.

There are hundreds of workshops for barro negro, the black pottery in San Bartolo Coyotepec, a short drive from Oaxaca. But whether you’re a bargain hunter, a retailer seeking product, a decorator, a folk-art collector, or a potter, a visit to Doña Rosa’sought not to be passed up. Doña Rosa (1900 – 1980) was the innovator of the process.

Son Don Valente provides daily demonstrations with anecdotal information about the history and contemporary impact of his parents’ innovation to the process. He’s instructed Mexican personalities and the likes of Nelson Rockefeller and President Jimmy Carter.

For thousands of years, pottery was produced in the village using the same technique as Don Valente illustrates, without wheel or any modern-day inventions, only locally available "tools." Until the early ‘60s, other village families were eking out a livelihood producing utilitarian pottery, while his family for the previous decade had been making shiny black decorative pieces. With the advent of plastics, which were colorful, durable, and inexpensive, the demand for purely functional pieces dropped.

Accordingly, townspeople began copying the method used by Doña Rosa, who had been immune from market forces impacting the traditional grey pottery industry. Today, virtually every town potter makes only decorative pottery using Doña Rosa’s innovation, continued by her family: the shine is created by rubbing quartz over the almost-finished piece before firing. The black is achieved by baking for only 8 to 10 hours. If it remains in the oven for 12 to 14 hours, the color changes to grey, and the piece can then hold liquids, taking on almost iron-like qualities. A 30-day process is illustrated in 15 to 20 minutes.

The showroom contains extremely reasonably priced pieces, predominantly decorative, but some also simple and functional. Regarding the former, you’ll find a broad range in size, form, and style, suitable for both modern and traditional home décors. The family provides packing and shipping services and takes special orders. A restaurateur friend recently custom-ordered charging plates and related table accessories. Certainly visit some other shops in town if you have the time, but include a demonstration at Doña Rosa’s as part of your visit to San Bartolo Coyotepec.

The metamorphosis of members of Oaxaca’s art community is a microcosm of how Western professionals establish themselves: starting out pounding the pavement in search of a job, catching one or two breaks along the way, and then a decade later reaping the rewards of a successful career. But for some 5,000 artists in Oaxaca, from abroad or Mexico, having studied at a fine-arts school or in a city workshop, they can ascend the rungs of the ladder much quicker, yet with much less in material rewards. For art aficionados, this means one day you can purchase a quality piece from an artist on the street, ranging from provocative imagery to more simplistic yet equally entrancing, and two years later encounter his works in galleries fetching tenfold what you paid. Alternatively, his obras may no longer be available, having been "found" by a New York patron or commissioned for a government project.

For those without the patience or inclination to search the many galleries, establishments such as Arte de Oaxaca, Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Oaxaca, and El Museo de Pintores Oaxaqueños should not be missed, providing a good sampling of uniquely Oaxacan metaphors. However, if while walking the downtown streets you just wander into a few galleries, you’ll go home with a piece to grace that barren wall.

Here are a few pointers:

1) If you hesitate, it may be gone tomorrow;
2) Go easy practising your negotiation skills when buying from the artist. It may backfire, or you may make the purchase, but with a diminished sense of self;
3) When something catches your eye, or if both of you are drawn to it, you’ll never regret buying it;
4) If a piece seems absolutely enchanting but is curiously inexpensive, don’t shy away for fear you won’t be purchasing quality; remember that next year you may not afford it;
5) Never buy for investment first. If you’re really lucky, the piece’s value will appreciate substantially, but remember two things:
(i) you have to live with it;
(ii) when the time comes, your children will probably give it away for a song;
6) Compare what you see in terms of quality, imagery, and price to what you already have. In my case, all I have to do is recall my two pieces by R.C. Gorman, the renowned Arizona-born artist: the buying decisions come faster and easier.
7)Most of today’s promising artists have been influenced by the Legends of Mexican art, so if a piece that draws you appears to have a familiar quality, it probably does.
8) Resist snobbery. A seriograph is an original, albeit one of a limited number. Even posters of exhibition openings, festivals, and the like constitute an art form onto itself. As with other mediums, they often evoke interesting images. They are affordable for the most budget-conscious, and framing tends to be modest. They provide at least some of what we seek when selecting our artwork: color and coverage.

Master ceramicist Angélica Vásquez Cruz has set herself apart from other sculptors, not only in her hometown of Atzompa, itself known for a longstanding tradition of villagers handcrafting fine figures, kitchenware and fanciful forms, but throughout the central valley of Oaxaca. Since age 7 Angélica has been innovating and adapting her artform using different clays and natural substances to produce variations in texture and color for her unique and thought-provoking pieces.

Atzompa is one of a plethora of quaint little craft towns which can be visited by travelers to Oaxaca. It’s most often known for the workshops of potters who make green glazed and pastel colored ceramics. However, as is the case in other villages peppering the region, on a rare occasion the odd maestro with something truly unique and special to offer emerges, and in Atzompa, Angélica is that angel.

Angélica’s work has been heavily influenced by her own family as well as Mexican history and legend. Her belief in the importance and strength of the matriarch in Oaxacan cultures shines through her work. What immediately strikes the eye upon entering her “showroom,” a small space set aside in her home / workshop, are two important features of her mastery: the complexity of detail; and flowing natural movement so rarely captured by her colleagues. Of peers she has very few.

Atzompa is a 15 minute drive from Oaxaca, easily accessed by taxi. Angélica’s home, on Avenida Independencia, is several blocks up from the main downtown artisans’ market. She or one of her children will warmly welcome tourists into their charming and quaint world, a well-kept homestead featuring an abundance of colorful flowering plants, shrubs and fruit trees. She can be reached at (951) 558-9061.

“Oaxaca’s Man of Steel”

Some 30 years ago, a youthful 27-year-old acquired a piece of machinery by chance. Not knowing exactly what to do with it, or how it could somehow become a positive factor in his life, he took a gamble and purchased some modest tools and metal. Armando Lozano Ramírez was then living in Puerto Vallarta, at a time and within an environment where a rich crafts tradition had been emerging. It was within this context that he began experimenting with then-innovative techniques, out of necessity using one of the more affordable precious metals…brass.

Today, entering the combined home, workshop, and gallery of Maestro Lozano, tucked away just off the main highway running through San Bartolo Coyotepec, a short drive from Oaxaca, one cannot help but be stunned by both the diversity and uniqueness of his work in terms of form, function, and size. Entrancing best describes the overall impression when viewing his exceptional art: jewelry and sculpture, handcrafted in brass with acid-induced hues of aquamarine accenting each piece. The intricacy of each one-of-a-kind design, with not only pre-Hispanic but also clearly African influences is remarkable, perhaps surprising given that we’re in the midst of a Zapotec cultural tradition perceived to be manifest in works of iron and silver, stone, clay and wood.

Apart from the foregoing historical and contemporary sources, Maestro Lozano receives his inspiration musing through his daily walks and bicycle rides which characterize his early morning ritual, or otherwise through informal meditating and quiet contemplation. When his creative forces somehow manage to escape through a lack of discipline, going out and viewing a film sometimes spurs their return.

Armando’s financial fortunes are at times similarly fleeting, fluctuating with seasonal tourism and his ability to attract patrons. While he is sometimes out of state doing expositions and workshops, it’s his home sales upon which he primarily relies for his livelihood, without displaying his works in downtown shops and galleries.

Whether you’re greeted by the Gran Maestro himself, his son who carries on the tradition, or his wife whose paintings and etchings grace the walls of the studio, one cannot help but be impressed by the overall humility. The welcome may at first appear muted but within seconds the warmth of the family draws you in. Each piece is marked with a code on the back, referencing a price which must be looked up, easily enough. This means of “marketing” might appear to signify lofty pricing, but in fact the opposite is the case. You’ll be pleasantly surprised at the affordability of such tasteful and functional original works of art, whether your interest is in a thought-provoking sculpture to adorn a coffee table or mantle, a necklace, pendant, bracelet or earrings.

Armando Lozano Ramírez, Independencia 26, San Bartolo Coyotepec, Oaxaca.
(tel. 0449511035279)

There are a number of restaurants, mediocre at best, that receive rave reviews in the usual tourist guides and American media reports. The record should be set straight, by a Oaxacan resident who has been reviewing local eateries in excess of 2 years and dining in the city since 1991. Here’s the "down and dirty," without noting the touristy restaurants that receive undue praise. It’s a mistake to restrict one’s culinary experiences to the downtown core.

CASA OAXACA: In a class of its own, with two downtown locations, one in a hotel of the same name and the other a few blocks away behind Santa Domingo. I prefer the latter because of its ambience. Top choice for that special occasion, if this is your regular style of dining, or for a once-on-a-holiday splurge. As with each of the best restaurants in the city, it won’t break the bank, certainly relative to what one would pay for a comparable meal in Canada, the US, or major European cities.

TEMPLE: While we’ve dined here on only a couple of occasions, we’ve still been thoroughly impressed with service, quality of fare, and, perhaps a bit to a lesser extent, the wine list, although here in Oaxaca one ought never choose a restaurant based on availability of specific wines: we just don’t get the variety to which one might be accustomed.

LOS DANZANTES: Décor is impressive and general ambience quite pleasant, albeit a bit cold. Service can be a bit inconsistent, which may at times translate into not receiving principle plates together or hot. I’m knit-picking perhaps too much since this popular haunt is nevertheless up there in this second grouping and likely will please all.

LA TOSCANA: Several blocks from the downtown core, yet nevertheless walking distance for those who wish, La Toscana is located in a quiet, quaint downtown neighborhood. The tables are in an exquisite setting, with boardwalks traversing shallow fountain-style pools of water. Because of its location, we’ve always found it to be much less touristed than the rest, yet nevertheless busy provided you dine when the locals do, as opposed to on your "home" dining schedule, whether for comida or cena.

EL CHÉ: There are two locations, one in the heart of downtown and the other in Colonia Reforma, the former never seeming to have many of its tables filled, perhaps because it’s an older-style restaurant more attractive to the locals who nevertheless prefer dining at the suburban branch. Downtown tourists now seem to opt for a more modern setting and menu than is offered. However, when it comes to Argentinean beef, it can’t be beat. I always try to convince our table to share the barbecued sweetbreads as a starter.

LA BIZNAGA: Some travelers may find the service to be snooty. For us, it’s always been simply inordinately slow, even by Oaxacan standards, surprisingly so when it comes to drinks and regardless of the number of staff milling about. Its allure is the relaxed courtyard setting; soothing jazz; unique, well-seasoned dishes; and mixed drinks, especially margaritas and mojitos. Usually the art for sale adorning the walls is interesting.

CAFÉ CAFÉ: Popular with locals, it’s a well-kept secret from most tourists, yet only a couple of blocks up the street from a couple of popular hotels on Tinoco y Palacios. We’ve always enjoyed sitting outside in its rustic courtyard with central fountain for a light late dinner, with live guitar music towards the end of the week. Soups, salads, crepes and sandwiches on whole-wheat bread or baguette typify the menu.

ZANDUNGA: In Colonia Reforma, and not to be confused with the downtown restaurant of the same name, it’s housed on a quiet street with tables on a protected patio overlooking a garden area. With its relaxed and familiar atmosphere, it’s almost exclusively frequented by resident Oaxacans. Service is friendly, prompt, and professional. The menu is varied, and appropriate for both comida and cena.

MAMBO ITALIANO: For those staying in the northern suburbs or willing to invest in a $4 cab ride from downtown, "Mambo" is the place to go for great Italian food. Located on Calle Jacarandas in San Felipe, this tiny eatery, which is very popular with residents of Colonia Reforma and San Felipe del Agua, boasts good portions of appropriately cooked pastas, pizza, soups, and salads. Service is fast and friendly. Selections of wines, tequilas, and mezcals are limited, but when the quality is there, you don’t need a very broad diversity of choice. Highest cudos.

Where else but in Mexico can you park two blocks away from the ballpark, buy a pair of field level seats beside the dugout, eat a personal size pizza, have a beer, pastry, lollipop and tic-tacs, and be entertained for more than three hours during a warm, breezy evening, all for about $15.

The Mexican baseball season begins each March, with Oaxaca’s team (the Guerreros, being one of 16 in this two division league) playing its games at the Lic. Eduardo Vasconcelos stadium, a short walk from downtown. When my wife and I attended our first game ever, we were thoroughly impressed, not without noting some both interesting and amusing differences as compared to attending Skydome (now known as The Rogers Centre) to see the Toronto Blue Jays. I preface my comments by indicating that the league is equivalent to Triple A, meaning that the quality of play is extremely good, with potential and former Major Leaguers on the teams…in 2005 the Guerreros had Felix Jose, former quality batter for the Cardinals in the early 90’s.

I attended at the park to buy tickets a couple of days in advance of the scheduled game, wanting to ensure that I got premium seats, only to be told that tickets go on sale at 4pm, game day. To my surprise, the ticket wicket opened shortly before the hour. My wife asked for a pair of "the best". When she returned to the car, I noticed that the 55 peso tickets did not appear to be in sequence, so I sent her back to inquire, and exchange the seats if necessary. I was right…one seat was a row above the other. Who knew that when you ask to buy a pair of tickets, you should stipulate that you want them beside each other? The attendee gave my wife a hard time, but finally relented and exchanged the seats.

We returned to the park for the 7:30 opening pitch, easily finding a parking space on the street…no $20 charge to park in a lot. But where exactly were our seats? We asked no less than four stadium employees, no one being able to point us to our seats, until finally someone took the effort to direct us appropriately. WOW. Not only field level beside the visitors’ (Mexico City) dugout, but covered in the unlikely event of a drizzle, and alongside the bull pen.
The game followed the typical AL format, with designated hitter (Felix Jose for the Guerreros), and the announcer doing the same job as his counterpart in the Majors, not without prefacing each upcoming batter’s name and position with an advertisement for one of the numerous sponsors whose presence is up front and center, both on the players’ uniforms and across the field walls.

The scoreboard provided no surprises, but it took a while to figure out some of the positions of the players by merely seeing the letter designations…no problem with SS, 1B, 2B, and 3B. But what about JI, CF, and JD? I thought I had it down pat with the Center Fielder, but the other two threw me off. Then the announcer introduced the Right Fielder, the Jardinero Derecho (JD), which literally translates to "Right Gardener". It made sense after a moment since he does tend to the grass in right field…but why is the Center Fielder’s position not similarly adapted to the Mexican style of designation? All fell into place in short order, with each player having a number on his jersey, but with VOLKSWAGEN being the only name appearing on the backs.

The ten cheerleaders were a pleasant surprise, doing an admirable job, albeit neither choreographed nor synchronized as well as in the NFL or NBA. However, what a treat to see these young women at the ballpark with a bit of flesh on their bodies, instead of the anorectic look which we have become accustomed to see and regretfully accept north of the border. The music on the audio system was a unique mix of what one finds at MLB and NHL games with the standard "CHARGE" preambles and the like, traditional Oaxacan tunes including the Pinotepa, and well-known American and Canadian numbers by artists such as M.C. Hammer and Creedence Clearwater Revival.

The fifth inning cleaning crew did their job, although without the Lone Ranger theme song to egg them on; there was the traditional on-field contest for the kids; and hawkers prevailed upon us to buy raffle tickets. While I must confess that while baseball is the most boring of the main North American spectator sports (the list in descending order being basketball, hockey, football, soccer, and baseball), since the gradual changeover in Major League ballparks to permitting the consumption of alcoholic beverages I’ve come to enjoy getting out to the game from time to time to chat with a friend or business associate, soak up some rays and fresh air (when the retractable dome in Toronto has been left open), and have a beer and my fill of dogs, doughnuts, and deliciously rich ice cream bars. Pigging out Oaxacan style proved to be similarly orgasmic, although not being able to imbibe a mezcalito or three does put a damper on the libido. There was the tempting taco stand a few steps from our seats, in addition to the customary vendors winding their way through the stands. The range of fare includes, naturally Corona, soft drinks, hot tacos by the plastic and foil wrapped plateful, warm personal size boxed Domino’s Hawaiian pizza with all the ketchup packages you want, a wide variety of cellophane packaged nuts, seeds and dried fruit colorfully presented on a display card, esquites (piping hot large corn kernels in a Styrofoam cup topped with mayonnaise, chili powder, lime, and grated cheese), as well as the typical street corner stand items including gum, chocolates, hard candies, and cigarettes.

Perhaps the greatest similarity to attending an MLB game was that the home team lost… just like in Toronto after the two aberrations in the early 90’s. While I wouldn’t expect that attending a Guerreros game would be on a list of priorities for tourists spending only a week in the city, for both residents and travelers vacationing here for longer stays baseball in Oaxaca provides an entertaining and relaxing way to spend a few hours. The regular season runs through the end of July, with the four playoff series beginning thereafter, running through the beginning of September. You can attend at the stadium to learn more about the promotions including T-Shirt and Cap days, and Mothers Day and Fathers Day.

Give one example of an oxymoron. You guessed it. But just when you think you’re comfortable driving in this city, apparently without enforced regulations, there you are, transito (a traffic cop) waving you over, giving you a ticket, removing your license plate, or towing your vehicle. Watching and learning what other drivers do does not provide any comfort or assurance that you won’t end up paying a fine, perhaps with your car having vanished, or being honked at by other motorists. All I can do is offer some understanding and explanation, and the rest is up to you.

Let’s start with the premise that this particular local government employee isn’t paid all that well, and therefore has limited "resources," in the multiple sense of the word. I’ve been told he earns about 6,000 pesos per month, and also that he earns about 2,000 pesos per month and relies on making the balance of his wages "on the street." Keep this is mind, or search for your own statistics. One thing for sure is that he probably earns less than the average Oaxacan (about 65,000 pesos annually according to most recent statistics)...not like the law enforcement officers we know who retire in their 50s with good pensions to then start a second career in the security field.

I’m convinced that no one knows the traffic laws and that whatever is being enforced is done so haphazardly or on a whim. The point is that even when you think you’re doing the right thing or know the law, you may still be pulled over, fined, or bear the wrath of irate motorists. What follows is a smattering of assistance for would-be Oaxacan drivers, constituting acceptable driving practices, not necessarily the law...nor what will keep you out of trouble. But over the past 15 years I’ve only been pulled over three times...once for a u-turn in a major intersection, another time for driving without plates, and recently for simply not knowing what to do in the middle of a weird-looking intersection with even stranger traffic signals (to date not a single fine).

Keep in mind that frequently lanes aren’t clearly or at all marked, and lights aren’t always working, at least for one direction of traffic. When you see two or more transito directing in an intersection, do not assume that they’re working in unison. I recently saw one officer clipping his fingernails while apparently directing traffic.

WHO HAS THE RIGHT OF WAY?
Many intersections don’t have yield or stop signs, or lights. Most up and down big streets have the right of way, as do most major cross streets, but it’s a matter of learning over time which street is which, what constitutes a big or major one, and even once you’ve done so, being cautious upon entering every intersection because you don’t know if the other guy knows. At traffic lights, green has the right of way, but not immediately. You’re probably accustomed to driving in a jurisdiction where there’s a delay of a second or two between the other driver getting the red, and you getting the green. No so in Oaxaca. Before proceeding, edge out carefully to see how many drivers will be speeding through the red. They say that semáforos (traffic lights) are suggestive only, so at times there will be drivers stopping and then proceeding through a red. Though illegal, this is not an uncommon or unaccepted practice...it just happens, and I bet those going through reds in this context get into less accidents than drivers proceeding immediately upon seeing a green, or those going through unmarked intersections.

TURNING
You’re not supposed to turn right on a red after stopping if it’s safe to do so, unless there’s a sign with an arrow. Breach this one and you’ll be honked at more than for going straight through a red! Sometimes right lanes are reserved for right turns only, so watch for them, or understand why the guy behind you is honking when you obey the red light...there’s probably a green arrow somewhere telling you to turn right. The car on your left might also want to turn right. Regarding left turns, the same holds true. But more often there will be two or three lanes of traffic wanting to turn left, including you...but before making your left turn, ensure the driver to your left also plans to turn left, and not go straight. Buses seem to be allowed to turn whichever way they want from whichever lane they’re in, and because they’re bigger than you, be careful, if you can see them through their exhaust. Unless you plan to turn, the safest place to be and to avoid angry motorists is the middle lanes. On occasion you might even happen upon a far right lane reserved for left hand turns! But wait. Beginning in May, 2006, road "improvements" on the main east-west thoroughfare in the city, Niños Héroes de Chapúltepec, started to reach completion. Instead of there being the usual left hand turn lanes, we now have, a block before an intersection, traffic signals directing you to veer to the far left hand side of the roadway, cutting across oncoming traffic lanes. Then, when you reach the intersection where you want to turn left, there are additional traffic lights. It’s hard to explain the concept, the chaos, and the danger to both drivers and pedestrians. Think of it as driving along a North American roadway, and then all of a sudden you have to become a British driver, but just for a block and a turn. The government placed officers at these new intersections to familiarize drivers with these new lanes, which is admirable...but these instructors of insanity are now gone, after the powers who be decided that Oaxacans are now familiar with the grid pattern, so what happens to non-Oaxacan drivers, such as tourists? Will Hertz now double its insurance premiums?

PARKING
You’ll learn to double park, even though you loathe those who do so and create the traffic backlogs. Sometimes tranisto blows his whistle, sometimes he starts giving you a ticket or removing your plate, and sometimes he does nothing. Pick your spots, keep a passenger in your car who knows where to find you, and be quick. The vehicle you’re blocking will on balance be patient, since the driver was probably double parking an hour earlier. When parking close to a corner, the key is to do so on a street where cars can only turn in the other direction so there’s no chance of you getting clipped. You’re not supposed to do it, but most often it’s overlooked. However, if you’re close to the corner of a street onto which bus traffic turns, watch out because the bus won’t be able to make the turn, and transito will do whatever he can to remove your vehicle. Don’t worry much about barely making it into a parking spot, because Oaxacans seem to have a knack for getting out of small spaces. Watch for driveways since sometimes they’re pretty hard to see. In parking lots, take note of early closing hours.

SPEEDING
I don’t know the city speed limits, nor do the vast majority of Oaxacans. Topes (speed bumps) will dictate your speed, as will the driver behind you. Regarding the former, sometimes they’re marked and sometimes they’re not. Notice the number of repair shops for tires and springs, and signs for alignment and balancing. Attack the topes slowly, and if possible on an angle. Highways often have speed limits marked, but gauge your speed as you would in the city. While the toll road warns of radar in operation, the only place I’ve ever seen it is on the road from Acapulco to Mexico City. However, you can be pulled over without radar, the fine is very stiff, you’d better have cash on hand, and recall that there’s no presumption of innocence.

AND REMEMBER
In Oaxaca to get a drivers’ license there is no road test or eye exam. You either take a written test or pay someone a bit of money, a very common practice.

Despite the foregoing, resident Oaxacan Alvin Starkman on occasion zips around the city on a motorcycle. He and wife Arlene operate Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ).

WHERE DIVERGENT RELIGIOUS CULTURES MERGE...

Daniel Perez Gonzalez was a beautiful baby. His parents Flor and Jorge thought so; my wife Arlene and I agreed. Few are able to share our certainty, though, because we were among the very few to see him alive. Daniel was born in one of Oaxaca’s well-known clinics. I welcomed him into the world along with Arlene, our then 13-year-old daughter Sarah, and Daniel’s abuelita (grandmother) Chona. From the womb, the nurse passed our newest extended family member into three sets of anxiously loving arms—Chona’s, those of his big sister Carmela (Sarah’s closest friend in Oaxaca), and then Sarah.

We have a long and colorful history together, my Jewish family in my previous hometown of Toronto and my devoutly Catholic family here in Oaxaca. Chona is our comadre and matriarch of her family. Not 6 months earlier she and her grandchildren had shouted Mazel Tov at Sarah’s Bat Mitzvah in Toronto. Over the years we have raised many a glass of mezcal at milestone birthdays including quince años (the fiesta when a young girl turns fifteen, with similarities to the Bat Mitzvah); we have eaten matzoh together for Passover in Toronto; and we have welcomed many a Christmas, New Year’s, and Dia de Muertos together in Oaxaca.

But it was Daniel’s death that reinforced for me, through much laughter and many tears, the profound irrelevance of cultural differences in the face of universal rituals surrounding death.

On the day of his birth, it was easy to imagine that Daniel’s life would unfold like Sarah’s. At 8 pounds, and with a full head of black hair, the baby looked extremely healthy. Like my wife’s, Flor’s pregnancy had been full-term. Like Sarah, Daniel was born by caesarian section; like Sarah, his mother’s umbilical chord had been wrapped around his neck, causing temporary respiratory distress and the need for a few days in an incubator. But we didn’t worry, his father and cousin both obstetricians with connections in the Oaxacan medical community. He would receive the best post-natal care available, and we would dance at his wedding one day.

But then their paths diverged. After 2 days of life, we mourned little Daniel’s death of respiratory distress, beside his coffin in Chona’s living room, with family, friends, and compadres.

Between the birth and the death came a crazy-quilt of only-in-Mexico experiences that resonated with my memories of the mourning process my Canadian family had undergone when my father Sam died a few years earlier.

Most Oaxacans accept that death hits you at home—literally. Daniel left the hospital in a white, ornately-adorned satin-lined coffin, bound not for a funeral home, but for the living room of the family compound. Once he was settled atop a table covered with fresh linen, with a large silver crucifix behind him, my compadre Javier and I were dispatched to the Mercado de Abastos, to buy white gladioli and flower arrangements. This was a far cry from the somber discussion of formal arrangements at Toronto’s Steeles Memorial after my father’s death.

In this passionate and expressive country, even death rites are incomplete without the drama of shouting and accusations. At the cemetery I learned that Daniel was to be interred in a low tomb-like grave atop Tia Lolita, his great-great-aunt who had died in 1990, who was layered over yet another relative who had died in 1982. But when we met with the head undertaker, el presidente, at Lolita’s graveside only hours after Daniel’s death, we were advised that annual fees hadn’t been paid in 10 years. Much shouting ensued, but in the end, after heated debate, el presidente had successfully "extorted", as was his right, thousands of pesos for arrears of government taxes and administrative fees—plus about 1,000 pesos in the likely event that Daniel would require a boveda (literally a vault, the rebar reinforced concrete slabs designed to keep the grave’s occupants in an orderly configuration). And we still weren’t done. Only once Chona had presented sufficient historical documents to convince everyone that she indeed had the requisite authority to bury Daniel alongside Lolita were the appropriate certificate and receipts issued.

Back at Chona’s home mourners had begun to arrive. Shortly thereafter Jorge and I dropped off 150 various pan dulce, to be used to dip into the traditional hot chocolate served to those attending such gatherings. I then experienced another profound frisson of déjà vu . The notably slower pace of Oaxaca’s mañana society was gone. With efficient dispatch, Chona and family transformed the home into a grieving chamber, arranging for necessities such as chair rentals, and ordering attendees off to kitchen duty. There under Chona’s roof I traveled back in time to my mother’s kitchen, crowded with friends and relatives I hadn’t seen in years, just after my father’s funeral. I could hear my mother’s friend Rayla organizing who would bring what meals into our home during shiva—the week of mourning that follows the burial of a Jew.

Then there were the inevitable tragicomic moments. When I gave my father’s eulogy, I couldn’t resist telling a story about him that made reference to a shared moment that involved passing gas. In Mexico, the black humor of death is even more visceral. When Chona and I went back to the cemetery to ensure that preparations for the burial were well underway, we found el presidente and his aide a half-foot down, at the top concrete plate of the vault—along with part of a human jawbone. Chona was outraged, and began shouting, "that can’t be Tia Lolita!" We came up with many theories for the mystery bone, all revolving around the amorous activities of the dead, none repeatable here. That kept us going until we finally came across the complete skull of Tia Lolita, still covered with the traditional fine headcloth to prevent mosquito bites. We ultimately concluded that a few years back someone else had been buried alongside Lola. Mystery of the extra jawbone solved. Here in southern Mexico, multiple burials in the same grave, at times at different levels, and at times involving the removal of bones after several years of non-payment of fees, may occur. In any event, in return for a handsome gratuity el presidente agreed to clear away a spot for Daniel’s cajita, and hide Lolita’s head and any other remaining bones in a sack at one end of the grave opening. The funeral would take place the next day, not unlike the dispatch with which Jews bury their dead—but very different from the traditional adult Oaxacan death custom characterized by several days of prayer, visitation, and other rituals prior to burial, similar in purpose and function to the Jewish period of shiva after the interment.

Later that evening back at the house, we listened to a cassette recording of nursery rhymes. Although we in the Judaic tradition are not permitted music during mourning, these tunes seemed appropriate. Arlene tenderly placed a small rattle beside Daniel, in accordance with local custom. A young woman led a 20-minute prayer, strikingly similar in nature to the Kaddish or mourners’ prayer in a shiva home. Then more food—a rich mole negro with bolillos, tortillas, salsa—and more prayer. When the padre finally arrived late, there was the obligatory humor about the clergy; someone joked that he had just shown up for a meal.

By the following afternoon, we were placing a bountiful display of flowers into the back of a pick-up. Javier and I took final photographs of the baby, and then Jorge placed his son into the back of a 1980s white stationwagon, for his final journey.

The cemetery ritual combined the continuing familiarity of my own Canadian experiences with Mexicana. A few soft prayers, a few handsful of earth placed atop the coffin, and incongruously our two congenial cemetery workers placed the concrete slab back between the remaining portions of the lid to the vault, then mixed and applied cement to seal the boveda. Reminiscent of Jewish custom, Chona asked Javier and I to assist with the shoveling of earth, then invited everyone home for comida.

Back at the house there was no music. Idle chatter took its place. Eventually, once most of the people had left, and only the barren white altar and the slowly burning mourners’ candles remained, Arlene and I decided to go downtown for a walk, sad and emotionally drained, but oddly comforted. After a Oaxacan funeral for a Catholic baby, I felt exactly the way I did the first time I walked outside after arising from my father’s shiva.

Alvin Starkman, a resident of Oaxaca, has elected to change the names of his Oaxacan extended family, out of respect. He operates Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ).

ONE DAY THEY MAY BE CALLING YOU

Whether you live in Oaxaca or vacation here on a regular basis, if you’ve begun to integrate into the community, eventually you’ll be asked to be a padrino or madrina (godparent) to an ahijado or ahijada (godchild), so you’d better familiarize yourself with "compadrazgo", or co-godparenthood. In a nutshell, it’s a web of mutual rights and obligations of monumental importance throughout Mexico and elsewhere, both in urban centers and rural communities, cutting across and permeating virtually all socio-economic strata. One chooses who will be his or her lifetime compadres, the cornerstone of compadrazgo.

If someone is asked to be a padrino of a child upon baptism, it creates a new bond between two families, solidified by the creation of compadres. The parents and grandparents of the child become compadres to the padrinos (at times extending to their children…i.e. compadritos.) While family members are frequently asked to be padrinos, often friends, neighbors and business acquaintances are selected, as a means of strengthening ties which already exist. My personal experience, confirmed in the anthropological literature, has been that while as a godparent you have lifelong obligations to your godchild which may or may not ever be called upon, it’s the ties between compadres which on a regular basis come into play.

Let’s examine other occasions when you might find yourself asked to be a godparent, obligations which may fall upon you at the time, and finally how your new status as a compadre manifests, and keeps on ticking. Why you and not someone else? To understand we must look at the pool of prospective choices from which you may be selected. My perspective may appear cynical, but is fact based and proven, using a functionalism model.

Godparents are selected for both religious and secular rites of passage, for godchildren ranging from infant to adult. In Oaxaca the most common events where custom dictates godparents be chosen are marriages, school graduations, girls’ 15th birthday celebrations (quince años), confirmations, first communions and baptisms. Sometimes but not always, there may be a financial commitment involved, where for example as padrinos of a wedding or quince años a couple may be asked or simply volunteer to contribute to the cost of the affair. But don’t worry, financial obligations may be shared amongst several godparents. A case in point involved my wife and me. When asked to be godparents at the wedding of the son of then merely acquaintances, our mouths dropped, whereupon after a pregnant pause the request was concluded with "…of the rings." This meant that we were responsible for buying the wedding bands, while another couple was being honored with being the primary padrinos of the newlyweds. In fact you can be asked to be godparents of (for purchasing) the cake, liquor, flowers, and the list goes on, depending often upon the financial ability of the people throwing the function, and in the case of individuals with resources, whether or not they want to bestow a special honor at that particular point in time of the already-existing relationship. You may be asked to make a speech, give a blessing, dance with the bride/groom or quince añera, almost always being an active participant depending on circumstances. If you’re not Catholic, don’t take communion or kneel, let your soon-to-be compadres know, even if it appears there won’t be a religious component to the proceedings. There will likely be a padre involved. For example, on occasion one finds padrinos chosen within the context of the opening of a new business. As part of the ribbon-cutting ceremony, the padre may be in attendance to give and direct blessings. Personally, this Jew doesn’t object to having a little holy water splashed on him by the padre...as long as it’s as a result of inadvertence.

Padrinos are almost always selected from people of the same or a higher socio-economic class. For example, a factory worker may select the supervisor of her department to be her daughter’s padrino at a baptism, but the corollary would rarely occur. A maker of alebrijes in Arrazola may ask a wealthy patron shop-owner from Mexico City to be godmother to her daughter and future son-in-law at their wedding, but the opposite would be out of the question. And you may be similarly asked, by a Oaxacan friend/neighbor, a perhaps perceived equal, but for different reasons. Functions regarding the foregoing three examples? Bonds of friendship are acknowledged and strengthened for future utility; a patron-customer relationship is affirmed with comfort in now knowing that it will continue ad infinitum; and there will be the perception that a boss won’t fire a compadre.

Your status as a compadre begins immediately, and you may never again be referred to by your name, but rather "compadre." You’ll experience the metamorphosis of your status, and will be treated differently. As an otherwise extranjero, you may feel as though you’ve come of age in Oaxaca. Compadres give and receive more invitations. Favors may be asked of you more readily and of a different type, with an expectation of compliance, if not the most careful consideration…and just as importantly, you will come to feel more comfortable making requests of your compadres…borrowing a truck, helping out with an arduous household chore, lending money, housing a relative temporarily, providing counsel in trying times, receiving preferential treatment in business or politics. By the end of our first year of permanent residency in Oaxaca, of the foregoing we lacked personal experience in only the matter of politics.

In terms of the broader societal importance of compadrazgo, the number of kinship ties you have is relatively finite, and usually beyond your control. However, for as many life stages and changes as may arise, one’s immediate family has the opportunity to extend non-relative or "fictive" kinship ties through deliberate selection. One is able to build and nurture through mutual requests and compliance innumerable economic and social alliances.

Here in Mexico no one ever utters "you can pick your friends but not your family." The strategies and decision-making processes involved in determining who would make appropriate compadres for a family, and why, are absolutely fascinating. I’ve only touched upon some of the dynamics. The Internet literature is exhaustive and should be consulted by those interested or thrust into the system. Alternatively, you can email me upon being asked to be padrino for advice as to what to do and ask, and for particular issues regarding expectations.

Alvin Starkman and his wife Arlene, residents of Oaxaca, operate Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ).

From May until well past summer’s end, Oaxaca can be subject to extreme weather patterns. While we’ve all experienced torrential downpours and damaging winds, here in southern Mexico the region’s utility delivery systems—which at the best of times have lacked quality control and are now (mostly) outdated—make for storms which affect most of us in ways we have seldom if ever experienced. Whether you’re at an Internet café, in the comfort of your hotel room or home, on the road or in a restaurant, Oaxaca’s meteorological marvels will impact you in new and different ways.

Rainwaters may wash out roadways in lower-lying areas, and as a result you may experience traffic delays. Road closures and virtually impassable conditions may dictate that you make alternate plans for or perhaps just delay a couple of days that anticipated trek up to the Sierra for a weekend ecotour. The sheer volume of precipitation flowing down steep inclines in a brief period of time coupled with the clogging effect of debris are contributing factors.

Depending on wind direction, occupants of homes, offices, and retail establishments may find themselves mopping up. The use of weatherstripping is the exception rather than the norm. So be patient if the level of service you expect is not forthcoming when climatic conditions curtail the ability of your waiter or salesperson to attend to your needs. Oaxacans tend to "go with the flow," after having endured months of draught and the resultant periodic shortages of water for daily predominantly commercial consumption, and challenges to maintaining crops and gardens. It’s part of the cyclical nature of life, and we quickly become stoic about tolerating and adapting to such temporary natural occurrences…even the minor earth tremors (something different to tell the folks back home).

But it’s the impact that the storms have on electricity that is stunning, both while the skies are thundering and for perhaps 12 hours after the last bolt of lightning has illuminated the cerros. One television may be out of commission while another in the same household may be working, but without sound. The computer may not come on after the fireworks have subsided, yet the lights are on. Some bulbs may be operating at full capacity, while others are not…they may function at a reduced candlelight level, or may simply flicker. One phone may work, another not. The refrigerator may be operating but not the microwave. Causes? For one, Oaxaca lacks a sophistocated regulatory framework which might otherwise control matters such as gauge of electrical wire and overloading of circuits. While "obra suspendida" notices (stop work orders) are not uncommon, they result more from a failure to submit basic drawings to the authorities than from the substance of the construction.

Your reward for tolerance and understanding is the knowledge that soon all will return to normal, and when you are able to get out on the road you may be blessed with a triple rainbow…it’s all part of the magic of Oaxaca. The city will appear fresh, ultra clean, and have a green tinge to it, many buildings having been constructed of pale green cantera stone mined from local quarries, the cantera taking on deeper tones after a rain. Oaxaca has been called the City of Jade because of this phenomenon.

Rains and their temporary effects on services ought not to put a damper on one’s Oaxacan travel plans for this time of year. The color of the hills and mountains changes from nondescript beige to brilliant green, the temperature range is pleasant at both extremes, and the fiestas are plentiful and filled with unmatched pageantry. Keep your vacation itinerary intact and you won’t be disappointed. For $1 you can always pick up a rain poncho on the street. Most of my pre-residency Oaxaca travel experiences were throughout the summer, and yet here I am, a Oaxacan looking forward to whatever comes my way.

Alvin Starkman, M.A., LL.B., and his wife Arlene, residents of Oaxaca, operate Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ).

Don’t get me wrong. Traveling on Oaxaca’s city buses is reasonably safe (I can’t make a blanket statement for liability reasons). Of course, look at their size compared to that of the average vehicle negotiating the streets. No matter how young the drivers appear to be, regardless of the speed with which they whiz by, irrespective of their reverence or lack there of for rules of the road, and leaving aside state of mechanical fitness, you’re still in a tank. But when my friend Fernando recounted that often when bus drivers get into accidents causing bodily injury they simply jump ship and flee on foot for fear of incarceration, I had difficulty fathoming such a scenario… until recently.

It was a clear Saturday at about 6:45 pm. I was on my Honda 150 cc, having finished a meeting with a friend, en route to meet my wife at Parque Llano for a festival inauguration, when the light turned green at Belisario Domínguez, enabling me to turn left onto Calzada Porfirio Díaz, one-way southbound. The van ahead of me went first, driver clearly in no hurry, when suddenly in the midst of his turn, bus B-136 came barreling down Díaz through a red light, smashing the van and forcing it over a curb and into a concrete wall. The bus kept going. Pedestrians motioned for me to follow it. After freezing at what I’d witnessed, off I sped, weaving and honking, to no avail until the camion stopped for a passenger to get off at the corner of Niños Heroes de Chapúltepec before turning right. “You hit a van, stop right here,” I exclaimed. The driver advised and his helper motioned that they were going to make the turn and then pull over. We agreed I’d go back to the scene and then we’d meet with the van’s occupant. Back I raced, this time the wrong way up the street, high beams on. A crowd had gathered in a cloud of the broken radiator’s steam. The driver assured me he felt okay and could accompany me to meet the bus driver. I knew better from experience representing car accident victims that if the chauffeur then felt fine, in a short while he wouldn’t. The sound of sirens assured me that help was on the way, so after giving the victim my business card and advising I’d be available if needed, back I went to get the bus driver and return him to the scene. You know the rest of the story... neither driver nor bus to be found.

Porfirio Santiago is at his loom, diligently weaving a massive 2 x 3 meter rug with traditional designs, from memory, with respresentations of Zapotec diamonds, rainfall, maize, and mountains…just as his father Tomás, grandfather Ildefonso, and great grandfather before him. Wife Gloria is carding a mix of white and caramel colored raw wool. Behind them, hanging over the black wrought iron banister overlooking the sunny open courtyard, are drying batches of spun wool in tones of green, brown, red, and blue, byproducts of the use of natural dyes from the añil or indigo plant, seed pods, mosses, pecan, pomegranate zest, and of course the cochineal bug.

Such ritual in Teotitlán del Valle, an ancient tribal town about a half hour’s drive from Oaxaca, has been played out continuously on a daily basis since about 1535, when Dominican bishop Juan López Dezárate arrived in the village and introduced borregos (caprine sheeplike animals yielding wool) and the first loom, shipped from Spain across the Atlantic. The use of natural dyes and weaving predate the conquest, but it was the European invasion which jump-started a cottage industry producing serapes, blankets, and tapetes (rugs).

Over generations the village grew, and began specializing in solely rugs, initially used as trade and sale items within a commercial network of towns in other parts of the state, and to a lesser extent other regions of the country. With the completion of the pan-American highway connecting Oaxaca with Mexico City in the late 1940s, the market opened up. By the 1950s air travel had begun to facilitate greater export as well as a tourist industry which quickly took notice of a broad range of handcrafted items from foreign lands.

Artesanias Casa Santiago is comprised of a single extended family whose main production facility, showroom, and homestead has been on the town’s main street since 1966. Then Porfirio occupied most of his working hours as a campesino in the fields, with rug production as a sideline. Over the decades he began spending fewer days working the land and more producing tapetes of both traditional Zapotec designs, and more recently based upon consumer demand, of modern patterns, reproducing themes from the masters of modern art and accepting custom orders such as the recent request for a wall hanging promoting Pentax cameras.

Illustrative of the depth of this family tradition, five of Porfirio’s six siblings and their families are weavers, the other a preschool teacher. On Gloria’s side, while her siblings are members of a large well-known musical band which plays at municipal fiestas, weddings, quince años, and other rites of passage, they too are trade artisans, although more on a part-time basis. All of Porfirio and Gloria’s children work in the industry, as do their spouses. Three of four sons and their wives live on premises and work at all phases of production, with the fourth having his own taller just up the street. One son, Omar, is an architect, but is nevertheless an integral contributor to all aspects of the family business. One daughter and her husband work at the main facility, another is employed at her in-laws’ workshop and restaurant a couple of blocks away, and the last and her husband have their own home and rug business. Each child completed high school, deciding to thereafter keep the family tradition alive to the extent possible. As has been repeating for generations, the grandchildren, now 17 in number, while watching their parents and grandparents from infancy, begin learning in earnest at about 10 years of age, and by roughly 20 are proficient at all aspects of the operation. In terms of the division of labor, years ago women tended to dye, card, and spin, while the men were the weavers. Nowadays, at least in this family, each is fully capable of performing all tasks, although it’s exclusively men who work the largest looms requiring the greater strength and stamina.

Another family convention has been the performing of important administrative duties for the town without monetary compensation, an aspect of voluntary community labor known as tequio. In 1931, Porfirio’s grandfather was mayor of the village, and more recently between 1996 and 1998, Porfirio himself was el presidente municipal. By then the job had become a 3-year unpaid post, nevertheless requiring a full-time commitment, necessitating doing the farming, raising family, and maintaining a rug business in the early morning hours or after dark. Yet the pride and sense of responsibility in serving one’s community took priority over concerns about being able to get all the work done in 24 hours that had to be completed. Even today, Porfirio on a seasonal basis splits his time between making and selling woolen products, and working the fields to supply the family with corn for making tortillas and tamales.

Despite being one of the most personable families one could ever hope to happen upon in the Valley of Oaxaca, Don Porfirio et. al. don’t get the large tour buses stopping by their shop for exhibitions. Perhaps it’s the personalities of the family members which clearly doesn’t lend to the formality of onlookers seated in a gallery for a demonstration, followed by a hard sell. María Luísa and husband Jose Luís, Tomás, Hubo, and the rest of the family on hand seem to have learned from their parents to be more relaxed and engaging within a congenial informal setting. They’ll take you to see whatever galvanized metal, plastic, or clay pots happen to be in use for dyeing, and bring over a simple cardboard box to show you a half dozen or so natural substances used for coloring the wool. If Gloria isn’t available to card and spin, perhaps a daughter-in-law will shyly say that she’ll do it, smiling as she admits she’s not as good at is as her suegra. It’s a more real and honest attempt to demonstrate the way things are actually done in the Santiago family, not at all contrived, and absent any pretension whatsoever. It’s what drew me and my wife to Casa Santiago in 1993, for the purchase of our first tapete which even today continues to enhance our living room floor. It draws us back time and again for a visit, often with a spur-of-the-moment offer of a little mezcal with a botana, either alone, with friends and family visiting from Canada and the US, or with touring clients.

While Casa Santiago has over time succeeded in adapting to changing domestic and international trends in terms of color tones and combinations, designs, and diversity of product (now also offering handbags, wall hangings, pillow covers, and more), it’s the longstanding, proud Zapotec custom of producing tightly woven, high quality traditional rugs which will live on through Porfirio, Gloria, and their lineage.

Artensanias Casa Santiago, Av. Juarez 70, Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca 70420. Tel: (951) 524-4154; (951) 524-4183. Web: http://www.artesaniascasasantiago.com.

Oaxaca is traditionally known as an adult destination with ruins, churches, museums, and fine art tradition. But having visited the region with our daughter since 1991, and now having been living here for a few years, touring friends with children around the sites, I’m confident young families contemplating a visit should set aside any trepidation regarding children’s enjoyment and parents’ ability to have a romantic getaway.

Concerns might include if there will be enough sites to hold your child’s interest, being able to visit the vestiges of pre-Hispanic civilizations without the kids getting bored, if you’ll be able to fit in a couple of quiet dinners, if you’ll have to pay a premium to have a pool, and the wisdom of saving Oaxaca for another time, without the family.

My suggestions are pragmatic and include where to stay, tour routes stops which will hold the interests of children and adolescents, and activities in and around the city geared to youthful vacationers.

Where to stay, and swim

Hotel San Felipe is a change from the hustle and bustle of downtown; the pool is in a picturesque setting flecked with rural neighborhoods and hills. Friends also enjoy Holiday Inn Express downtown, but many visitors prefer a quaint lodging environment yet can’t rationalize the cost of Camino Real or Los Laureles.

Most small hotels and bed and breakfasts don´t have pools. However, some have arrangements with nearby pooled hotels for their guests to attend, just ask.

Each lodging should point you to alternatives to an on-site pool such as a water park. These facilities, along the highways approaching the city, have pools of varying sizes and depths, water slides, and other appurtenances to keep the kids happy an entire day. The closest are Las Brisas and La Bamba.

Alternatively, you can attend one of the “balnearios” in Vista Hermosa, forty minutes out of Oaxaca, catering to entire families. During the hot season, you’ll find families around the pools, playing volleyball, or sitting under palapas eating local fare from the small comedors.

Hierve el Agua, at the end of one of the out-of-town routes, consists of two pools fed by natural bubbling springs, in a spectacular mountain setting which includes petrified mineral “waterfalls.” They’re safe for kids, and large and deep enough to satisfy adult aquatic yearnings. Most tourists don’t get to Hierve el Agua. To my thinking, it’s a must for families, in particular if done with other stops en route.

Oaxaca relies solely on tourism, so accommodations welcoming children should bend over to provide “the little things” such as stroller, accessorized crib, car seat, and babysitter reference for when you’re out for an evening. Hotel San Felipe provided such services when our daughter was pre-teen. You should encounter smaller hotels and guest houses that are similarly accommodating. All lodgings should have an English-speaking doctor on call in the unlikely event of an emergency.

Two child-friendly tour routes

1) Hierve el Agua:

The promise of Hierve el Agua, at the end of our first route, will keep children in check during the first part of the day.

First stop at el Tule, the 2000 year old Cyprus tree. Get a child guide dressed in a Robin Hood suit to show you images in the trunk. Have your children trade words in English and Spanish with the little Hoodettes. A key to holding the interest of young children is to let them interact with others of similar ages. It teaches cultural diversity.

At Teotitlán del Valle, ask your guide to take you to where you can have a demonstration where the rug weavers’ children and grandchildren will be present. Your kids can play, while touching and attempting to spin the raw wool, and getting their hands dyed in large vats of natural vegetable material used to color the wool. While choosing a rug, let your child look for something with fanciful imagery suitable for her bedroom. Our daughter grew up visiting Casa Santiago. As Sarah got older, there were always Santiago children on hand to keep her in tow.

If touring on Sunday, you’ll keep your kids in awe at the Tlacolula market, full of colors, music, sweets, live animals, and hawkers of all kinds. It takes at least an hour and a half to get through the market, so the promise of a dishful of sorbet (nieve) while in the marketplace does the trick.

This route’s main ruins are Yagul and Mitla, the latter more grandiose. Each has burial caverns to intrigue young tomb raiders. However, since it’s unreasonable to compel children to attend two ruins in one day, Yagul gets my vote. Its tombs can be descended. The kids can run throughout a labyrinth, then climb a mountain pass leading up to a fortress. At the top is a stone-hewn bathtub in which they’ll enjoy fantasizing. Marvel at the enchanting vista of the valley and ruin below.

En route to Hierve el Agua, your final destination, you’ll pass cattle herded along the road. Stop and encourage the kids to get out with you. Ask if it’s safe to hop on the back of one of the beasts or at least stand alongside for a photo.

At Hierve el Agua let the kids swim as they please, and explore the several pathways. The ride back to the city will be peaceful, relaxing, and above all quiet.

2) Crafts route:

San Bartolo Coyotepec begins another day of touring. At a workshop, watch a demonstration of the ancient craft of making fine black pottery without the use of a wheel or modern tools. Attend a studio such as Doña Rosa where the artisan permits children to go off and work with clay. The children get their hands dirty, while you learn how to fashion a bowl out of freshly mined clay, water, heat, and little more. Browse both sleek and modern, and traditional pieces, while the kids look for ceramics of their favorite animals.

Some workshops producing wooden carved and painted animals in nearby San Martín Tilcajete permit you to arrange for your children to select and then paint the animal of their choice. There will likely be an opportunity for the children to chase after and pet animals and play with kids of their own age.

Santo Tomás Jalieza, known for production of cotton table runners, placemats, and purses using the primitive back strap loom, and bedspreads and tablecloths using larger machinery, provides a valuable cultural experience for children. They’ll notice their counterparts, from 10 years of age, helping with the family trade and its sustenance.

In Ocotlán, drop by workshops of the Aguilar sisters who produce clay figures with scenes of marketplaces, religious imagery, comedic love depictions, and colorful fiestas. At least one of the workshops generally has unpainted figures on which each child can express his creativity through painting.

Continue on and see Ängel Aguilar hand-forge knives and cutlery using recycled metals in a rudimentary hearth. The setting is fascinating, primitive, and safe. Within a few minutes, Ängel can engrave your child’s name and his choice of figure on a souvenir knife with dull blade and leather sheath, right in front of everyone.

On Friday, you can wander through the Ocotlán market, similar to the Sunday Tlacolula market.

Each of these routes has additional stops, but this selection highlights sites which will hold the interest of children, and make for experiences of tremendous educational value.

And don’t forget the city.

Many colorful fiestas occur year round, some designed for a youthful audience. Consult http://www.oaxacacalendar.com for recurring events including when the mariachis and state band perform, as well as for listings of museums and galleries. It also notes upcoming events, detailing specific celebrations and performances, when the Guerreros baseball team will be playing (a treat for all sports enthusiasts), fireworks displays, and other events.

Consider the Saturday bilingual hour for children held at Oaxaca Lending Library http://www.oaxlibrary.com. It sometimes sponsors additional children’s programs. Many Spanish language schools offer a kids’ curriculum, so if contemplating learning Spanish, no need to worry about the children’s morning time being occupied. Casa de La Cultura offers courses for children. There are a number of charitable organizations where youths can assist disadvantaged local children.

Speak to your tour guide for more specific suggestions for children with particular passions. Youthful visitors with an interest in fine arts might enjoy dropping by the workshops of local artists, or a tour route visiting the studio of a sculptor, a hand-made artistic paper factory and the Center for The Arts housed in an old mill. For those sensitive to environmental issues or into camping and the outdoors, consider a couple of days in a rustic mountain setting in the Sierra Norte, including hiking, biking, riding, and learning how some local factories are becoming environmentally friendly.

It’s a matter of doing some homework, and then committing to a vacation dedicated in large part to your children. The result will be your own memories of the region’s richness, and a greater appreciation of the magic of Oaxaca. (William Ing photos)