This morning I woke up in a tiny 1-bedroom Airbnb on Fortin Hill in Oaxaca. Since I returned from my trip around the South Pacific on February, my every attempt at an adventure was blocked by the pandemic, worst California fire season in history, worst air quality on the planet and sundry other disasters emblematic of 2020. Alas, on the 21st of September (date made famous by Earth Wind and Fire’s September), i donned 2 masks, drenched myself in Purell and braved two American Airlines flights to Oaxaca. I managed to get seats with noone next to me (no, American doesn’t leave the middle seats empty if they can fill them; i was just crafty) and enjoyed the respectful courtesy of the sparse and well-masked fellow travelers at the 3 airports. My flights were more or less on time, my bag arrived on the same flight, my Airbnb host, bundled in an N95 was curbside ready to take me to my pad, Oxxo was still open and carried copious varieties of my favorite tostadas hornitas and even a couple of bags of unshelled peanuts, the pad has good enough internet connectivity – in short, everything worked the best way possible.While scarfing down lab-rat quantities of tostadas on the balcony far above the city in a middle-class beehive of Cero Fortin as well as during my nocturnal stroll aimed at digesting the said mountain of tostadas, I concluded that oaxaqueños love dogs. My guess is that the neighborhood houses were simple and small when the neighborhood first started, but over time and through multiple illegal expansions (judging by crazy precarious architectural solutions: a floor was added then another then a balcony was turned into another room or a kitchen, some support beams propped up a new balcony which now carries a water heater and a veg garden; if the house could not grow up further, they dug under adding more living space… you get the picture). Well each of these beehive bits has street facing tall windows covered with bars. And each window, without fail, contains at least one dog. And they are rather opinionated and argumentative… Day and night…
My morning started on the same big balcony where it ended last night. Temperature is perfect, air conditioner superfluous, and air is mountain clean. Add to this luxury the beans of the local coffee which my host left for me (“This is beans but i have – how you say – coffee shredder”). So i shredded the coffee, put it through a french press and sipped it out of Oaxaca-styled thick earthware. I bolted out of the house well caffeinated. My neighborhood has many cool murals and great city views. I followed both and found myself climbing up side streets and multiple sets of stairs to a big open-air artistically awning’ed amphitheater. A walking bridge or an underground tunnel bring you to the amphitheater park. I chose the tunnel because-you guessed it-its walls are covered in murals. The park around the amphitheater has several forest paths which you can either take to your assigned seat (in the non-pandemic times) or you continue up the hill to a planetarium with a stunning view. Neither institution has been utilized since before Covid. So, the forest, the birds, the squirrels and other wild life are having a blast. Past the planetarium, there is a hiking path – a ridge trail overlooking the Oaxaca Valley. An occasional jogger would pass by, or I would pass them, a couple of shrubbery logs contained some passionate youngsters…The view of the colonial church towers in the distance reminded me that I should focus my sightseeing efforts to the reasons why Oaxaca is a world-heritage site, squirrels be damned.I climbed down past a giant Mexican flag and a statue of “the father of Oaxaca “ – Benito Juarez. The city’s full name is Oaxaca de Juarez.Back through the tunnel and down a gloriously beautiful wide stairwell street lined with mature flamboyans, ceibas, and amatillos, I descended into the colorful colonial cobblestone-paved streets which all lead you to a stunning Spanish cathedral or another. Heaven for amateur photographers: no matter how horrible your shot is, each nook and cranny of the historical town turns out looking super cool: a façade, a window, a roof, a mural, stone aquaduct, brick arches, butterflies on planters, hummingbirds on creepers, arabesque-like reliefs on churches. Each church has a courtyard or a square or a wide amphitheater around it: a place to gather, contemplate or (in current day) a place to take a masked selfie, do a masked tiktok dance, sell embroidery, unicorn balloons, friendship bracelets or Frida backpacks. One cathedral was enveloped in bubbles streaming out of automated bubble-makers. Zócolo square park was taped off and guarded by police but the adjacent open-air market was full of people trying to bypass the blocked out park. Other parks were open and masked strollers distanced quietly.While around Zócolo, i had to storm the inside of a restaurant otherwise only open for public in its outdoor garden: my need for a baño trumped my civil obedience. It is curious how quickly we find restrooms in a large multi-storey restaurant maze when guided by the pee urge.I was feeling particularly bad for the outdoor craft vendors. Who knows when was the last time that they sold anything. Today i was giving alms to beggars. Tomorrow I will start buying embroideries, ceramics and wood crafts. Being a rare tourist, I feel like I have to represent.My favorite part of my 9-hour stroll was the square one of the Spanish quarters: likely the oldest buildings in town. This traffic-free maze of narrow streets had a very artistic vibe to it. I saw muralists spray-painting to a bass-y dub, a crossdressing model posing on stone porticos, many whimsically decorated houses, creative mini-restaurant concepts… I took a break in the Brujula café in front of the Santo Domingo de Guzman Cathedral for a while ecstatically enjoying their local-coffee ice latte with local raw chocolate and cayenne pepper. Plus free internet. It was 7:30 when I finally got myself to think of calling it quits. Dinner was a deli combo of homemade zonza (think Serrano ham but waaaay better), homemade goat cheese and sauerkraut- yup also homemade. I further extended my walk but once it got dark, I started climbing Panorámica Fortin, stopping briefly to buy some tiny but mega honeylike bananas from a super friendly store keeper who chatted with me through bars, curtain and mask.Moon is a chubby crescent a tad blurry with clouds which makes it look even more like a Cheshire cat… And now the choir of dogs takes over. Good night!
Vagabonding Zwindling 