A Trip to the Mountains

WEDNESDAY JAN. 27, 1999 With 4 days left before Super Bowl XXXIII, it was time to pack for the trip to Oaxaca City and Huautla and as I chose the things I would need for the upcoming trip I reflected on the last time I had been to Oaxaca City - a drive through with only a stop to gas up the van for the last leg of the journey to Zipolite. Now, after more than two years of living in Mexico, I was finally going to check out this famous old city. My friend Dulce L and I caught a taxi from our place to the bus station in Veracruz. At 10:30PM' the bus rolled out of the terminal, rolling through the dark night on its 7 hour trip over the mountains to Oaxaca City. We had chosen to ride with ADO’S first class bus. With only eight other people on board it was a quiet and comfortable ride. After watching the movie that was shown, a Vietnam war story of poor quality, I was sleeping when the bus pulled into the bus terminal in Oaxaca at 5:30AM Thursday morning. THURSDAY JAN. 28 Once inside the bus terminal, which is quite small and was crowded with people waiting for their busses to leave, we found a phone and started calling around for hotel room prices. With the help of Lonely Planet’s Mexican Guide Book we had located the hotel we would stay at for the next 2 days, a hotel called Hotel Monte Alban right in the heart of the Plaza. Our 2nd floor room overlooked the Plaza and was clean and well appointed with beautiful antique furniture, a spacious bathroom and all the hot water we could use. The hotel was a 400 year old converted convent and had a beautiful indoor courtyard which served as the dining room for the hotel’s restaurant and a theater in the evenings when the Oaxaca Folk Dance Troop performed folk dances from all regions of Oaxaca State. After unpacking and cleaning up from our trip, we watched a troop of Mexican soldiers ceremoniously raise the Flag of Mexico on the flag pole in the center of the Plaza to the roll of drums. Then it was down to the restaurant for a Oaxacan breakfast of chicken mole tamales and some of Oaxaca’s famous hot chocolate drink. Once fortified with some food in our stomachs it was out to an awakening Plaza for our first look around at things. A stroll around the plaza got us aquainted with the streets that surrounded it, the Cathedral it was built for and the Tourist Office where we got directions and information for our planned day’s tour. Then it was time to go back to the hotel and change into shorts as the day began to warm up and then it was back to the streets.

Our walk took us past galleries of really beautiful art, shops filled with crafts from all over Mexico and finally to the markets that we were searching for. The first market was full of fresh foods of all descriptions, some local crafts and after a short walk through we moved on to the next street where we found a big market full of small eateries with each place having it’s own specialties and flavors. Despite the appetizing (and sometimes not so appetizing) Flook of these places and their incredibly low prices, we passed up all except for some fresh baked bread to munch on for energy needed to continue the stroll we were taking. Finally we reached the Crafts Market where native women sat in their booths with hand looms weaving beautifully colored and designed blankets and wall hangings. Other booths displayed hand embroidered clothes, while other vendors had a fine sampling of many of the area’s other hand made special crafts indigenous to Oaxaca. After some hard bargaining we made our choices and moved on to another street where Oaxacan Black Pottery filled the stores and I bought a set of 3 small black ashtrays. It was only that there was no way to take big pieces of pottery safely back home that kept me from buying several of the more lovely big pieces that I saw and I promised myself that the next trip would be better planned for this purpose alone if need be. The walk back to the hotel in mid-afternoon was pleasant as we browsed through more shops while making our way along the clean streets of the center city. When we reached the Plaza area, we saw that it was filled with people all busy having a good time with what ever they were doing. We walked around until we found an ice cream shop with a short detour into a French Bakery, where I enjoy a small fruit tart, a perfect way to close the afternoon’s promenade. Once back in our room, we sat on our terrace for a while, just watching all of the traffic in the plaza go by. It was getting dark when we ventured out to find a place to have a nice dinner. We only needed to go about 100 yards before choosing a nice looking restaurant with a table overlooking the Plaza. Both Dulce and I ordered chicken entrees, mine was with a mole sauce that must have been created in heaven, and I was treated to a true gourmet delight. Surrounded by tables of other tourists from Germany, France, England and the U.S., the meal had a truly international feeling to it. I was so high from the whole days activities that my senses were approaching overload as we left the restaurant and headed back to our hotel where the Folk Dance Troop was just beginning to do it’s thing. We watched it all from the interior balcony of the hotel as groups of dancers dressed in their unique regional costumes whirled around the dance floor below us.

Now I was really on overload, yet the night was still young and at 9:30PM we caught a taxi and headed to visit a very close friend of Dulce L’s at his house up in the foothills of Oaxaca City. We were happy to find him home along with another friend, who was visiting. After a few shots of tequila nobody knew what anyone was talking about, but we all laughed a lot and when we finally got back to the comfort of our room it was just coming on to mid-night. The Plaza was quiet and empty of people, the city had gone to sleep and now it was our turn.

FRIDAY JAN. 29 The original plan had been to get up early and have a quick breakfast, go into the Plaza to watch the flag raising ceremony up close, and then head out to Monte Alban to visit the ruins of this ancient city, where people had lived in an ordered society some 2,500 years ago. Instead, we slept late and didn’t get down to the restaurant until 9:30AM. After another nice breakfast we ended a perfect visit when we discovered a mistake in our bill. When we tried to straighten it out, management decided to stonewall us. When we finally settled the bill I was standing there scratching my head and trying to figure out if I was still on the planet Earth. Even Dulce couldn’t believe the behavior of the people in dealing with us. We left the hotel and got a taxi up to Monte Alban and for the next 4 hours we walk about this place and pondered what it really was like for the people who had once lived their lives on this hill top. The rich, as everywhere else throughout time had all of the creature comforts that were available and must have wallowed in the spender of their wealth while the workers and slaves had the life style of all beasts of burden. Young children were sacrificed casually and the value of human life and dignity was a concept not yet encountered. For over a thousand years this city prospered and grew in size and importance until in the end, it was left deserted and allowed to be destroyed. The descendants of these people still are alive and present in this part of Mexico and they are a distinct people and living proof of Monte Albans existence, one only needs to look, it’s all there to see. We caught a ride in the back of a pick-up truck going back into town loaded with young kids and stopped off at the Second Class bus station to check the schedule for the bus to Huautla (pronounced Wowt-luh) for the next morning. We found an early bus that would get us there not too late in the afternoon, and then grabbed a taxi to take us to the Cultural Museum (another an ex-convent put to good use). We found ourselves in a 6 block area closed off to car traffic with many expensive tourist type shops and several fancy restaurants of international cuisines. The Museum was too big to take all of it in but it had nice bathrooms (something I always like to check out and use) and after an hour of looking at the past history of Oaxaca as seen by it’s current residents, we walked back to the hotel, cleaned up and rested up for a while as we waited to go to dinner. On our walk back to the hotel from the museum we had passed a really nice looking Italian Restaurant with an extensive menu and fresh made pasta. It was back to that restaurant that we walked for dinner. The meal turned out to be world class, but the service was poor. It was necessary for the manager to intervene just to get the cheese left off my half of the pizza and we were shocked when they charged us for the water we drank and were even more stupefied when they told us they would have to charge us for a few small slices of bread that we wanted to take with us. In the end we left the bread and walked away, scratching our heads in disbelief. But our stomachs were full from the delicious food we had just consumed. And no one was going to rain on my parade or burst my balloon; I was just having too good a time. Back at the hotel, we caught the last part of the Folk Troop’s performance that we had missed the night before. We then packed up and went to bed, ready for the coming day’s adventures. We agreed that it would take a full week to explore the rest of Oaxaca City and it’s surrounding sites and it will be well worth the time to do it when ever it can be done.

SATURDAY JAN. 30 The bus for Huautla (the mushroom capitol of Mexico where they are legal and used as medicine) was scheduled to leave at 8:00AM, which meant getting to the 2nd class bus station by 7:30AM to make sure there was room on the bus. I was really tired when I woke up at 6:30AM, still exhausted from the previous day’s adventures, but I managed to get it together and even had time for a cup of coffee before taking a taxi to the bus station. It was a chilly morning, and as soon as we got our tickets, Dulce L scrambled off for a Oaxacan hot chocolate while I waited for the bus to fill up, keeping an eye on our bags and 2 front row seats which I wanted so that I could have an undisturbed view of the country as we made our way to Huautla. I stood there and watched the hustle and bustle of the bus terminal, people rushing around getting off busses, others getting on busses, porters moving handcarts of sacks containing who knows what to who knows where and I fascinated by all of it, vendors hawking their wares, walking from bus to bus selling sandwiches, drinks and junk food snacks. The bus itself was what once had been a plush, top of the line bus with thickly cushioned seats that even reclined and although it was all old, it still remained comfortable. The driver was a very nice and friendly man and his ticket selling companion kept the bus’ tape player filled with some really good Mexican rock music once we finally pulled out of the station and headed out for the highway. Except for Dulce L and me, all of the passengers who rode this bus were Indians who commuted from their towns and villages to and from Oaxaca. We picked up passengers anywhere along the road and let them off where ever they wanted to get off. Our first stop was about a half hour from the terminal. The driver needed some oil for the bus and several passengers (myself and Dulce L included) needed a piss stop despite the lack of any facilities other than the side of the road. Once we were all back on the bus, we started to climb steadily up the foothills of these mountains that loomed large in the distant horizon. Our progress was slowed by the constant stops we made along the way for loading and unloading fellow travellers, but the highway was in good condition and we really weren’t in any hurry. Dulce L had eaten a mushroom for a little extra enjoyment, and I was content to just watch the beautiful scenery and observe each passenger as they came and went. We stopped again at about 10:30AM in a small town by the name of Cuicatlan, where the driver told us that we were taking a 20 minute break for food and toilets. Enough time to smoke a cigarette or 2 and catch a few hits off of my pipe for an attitude adjustment. True to his word, we were back on the road 20 minutes later, everyone smiling and comfortable for the continuation of the trip. Now we were really close to the high mountain peaks that loomed ahead of us as we travelled through what can only be called high desert plains, the vegetation had changed to forests of 20 to 30 foot high cacti (several cactus).

At noon we were in the town of Teotitlan, the last town we would see for the next 3 1/2 hours. About a mile out of Teotitlan found us at the base of the mountains and as we started up it was impossible to imagine just how up we would be going. The grade was at a minimum of 6% but more often than not it was 8-9%, the switchbacks were sharp and steep and the view of the valley below us ended up looking as it would be seen in an airplane. The drop-off was sheer and straight down, the road was narrow and oncoming traffic was seen only seconds before it was upon you. But the bus driver was a pro and knew the road like the back of his hand, it was a pleasure to watch him drive and I was glad it was he and not me behind the wheel. I can only estimate our altitude when we finally arrived in Huautla at 3:30PM that afternoon, but 11,500ft. is on the conservative side. We were definitely in the clouds and above the clouds that were moving in as the afternoon heat brought them to the mountain top where Huautla is nestled. In all we had travelled about 160 miles in a record breaking 7 1/2 hours. I got off the bus and was looking around at the crowds of people, all campasinos, all waiting for a ride to their homes and villages as it was Saturday afternoon and they weren’t do back at work until early Monday morning, the fields that they worked in all week long would just have to do without them. When I turned around I saw Dulce L busily talking with a kid in his mid teens and when they saw that I had been looking at them they walked over to me and Dulce L proceeded to bring me up to date on their conversation. Yes, there were mushrooms around, not fresh ones, they are only available during the rainy season (from June until Oct.) but there were some dried ones and he would be happy to take us to the lady who had them for just a little money, that amount he would leave up to me. Since it had been a while that Dulce L had been here and the boy told her that the connection Dulce L had used before was out of stock, we decided to accept the young man’s offer of assistance. Not wanting to carry our bags with us, we decided to rent a room first, drop off our stuff and then check out the mushroom scene, so we took a room in the first hotel we saw (there were only 2 of them). Now we were ready to accompany our guide and score the booty. From our hotel in the center of town we climbed this dirt path which wound its way up to a section of very poor little houses until we came to the lady’s house that had the mushrooms. The people of Huautla are mostly Indian and speak their native Zapotecan language, so our guide helped out by doing some translating for us and after the usual business that goes on before any deals are consummated we left with what was once 15 packages of dried mushrooms that had been wrapped when presented to us in some kind of green leaf of fairly good size and texture, folded like an envelope. (A great marketing tool I thought). Each package had 6-8 mushrooms and we decided to take all 15 packages. Before actually leaving the lady’s house, I treated myself to a beautiful hand embroidered mushroom shirt just to remember the occasion with. Then, having finished our business with the lady, we were rapidly approached by a man friend of hers who offered to sell us mushrooms from his own personal mushroom jar, where he showed us mushrooms floating in honey so as to preserve the mushrooms potency and at the same time you get to eat the mushrooms like candy. This can be a lot of fun for anyone with a sweet tooth but I passed on them and also on the next lady who came to us with more mushroom shirts. We were tired from the long bus trip, we were slowed by the 11,500 foot altitude and we were hungry to boot. I asked the guide where in this town I could get some chicken to eat and he directed us to a small cafe with one table and one old lady who owned the place and she made us a bowl of some chicken and rice and tortillas, we paid the guide and wished him well and thanked him for his help, ate the food and then went back to our hotel for a little rest and reorganization. Now I’m sure that everyone we saw on our walk from the bus station to the hotel, the man who rented us our room, the people we saw going up to the lady’s house, all of the lady’s neighbors, everyone we saw walking to the cafe and probably the rest of the people in town knew we were there for the mushrooms. After getting reorganized in the room at the hotel we went out to check the market place in town.

We bought some bread in one of the many bakeries. Dulce L had some potato chips that were fried to order as we stood and watched and we picked up some tangerines and Gansitos and checked some of the shops that had mushroom embroidered dresses, shirts, pants, blouses and skirts. I didn’t see any mushroom embroidered underwear but I am sure if I asked I would have been accommodated. But perhaps the most remarkable thing of this whole walk around the center of town was that there was only one other couple from the outside world and they stuck out as much as we did and had “mushrooms” written all over them. Once we finally made it back to the hotel I was to exhausted to do any more and we had to catch a 5:30AM bus so we asked for a 4:00AM wake-up from the desk and both of us spent a very uncomfortable night, sleeping but not really sleeping, dogs were howling the whole night long and loud music was being played somewhere in town but the air was so thin and clear that it sounded like it was coming from the room itself.

SUPER BOWL SUNDAY, JAN. 31 We never got our wake-up call but Dulce L was shaking me and saying something that sounded like “it’s time to get up”. It was dark outside and there was a cool drizzle falling as we walked to the bus stop in what felt like a dream to me. There must have been at least 100 people standing around the bus stop area and Dulce L somehow soon found out that the bus we were going to take to Tuxtepec where we could get a bus back to Veracruz in time to see the Super Bowl had come in early and left at 5:00AM with the next one scheduled to come in at 11:00AM. With a heavy heart and no place to go for 6 hours and not wanting to be where we were, we found ourselves getting on a bus to Tehuacan in the state of Puebla, going in almost the opposite direction for a 5 1/2 hour trip where we could hook up with a bus back to Veracruz. I didn’t really care where we went, I just wanted to be home at 5:00PM so I could watch the whole game. The ride down the mountain was as beautiful as the ride up had been. When we finally got to Tehuacan we found that we would have to wait a little more than 2 hours for the next bus to Veracruz. With our bags stored in the baggage room we headed off to the center of town and it’s beautiful plaza. I had been to Tehuacan before, spent the night there and was familiar and impressed with this nice little city and happy to walk it’s center with Dulce L and show her the town. We stopped for some coffee and tea and watched the plaza start to come awake for the Sunday strollers and already the streets were filling with visitors from Mexico City and Puebla City out for there Sunday excursions. We headed back to the bus station with minutes to spare and before we knew it we were on the road again, next stop Veracruz. I can’t remember the trip back except that the driver was new and when we got to Veracruz he almost got lost finding the terminal. We got there just at 5:00PM and caught a taxi home. It was 5:22PM and as I clicked on the tube with remote control the opening kick-off was in the air. It was a pleasure to watch John Elway and the Broncos cream Atlanta and win Super Bowl XXXIII. Jan. 31,1999