I recently spoke to Javier Noguera (www.alegranza.com.mx; www.alegranzavacations.com), a property develeloper in Los Cabos, who shared his expert knowledge about the Cabos real estate market, the Mexico safety situation and the overall economic picture in Baja California Sur.

Everyone knows that the real estate market in the U.S took a serious beating over the last two years. How is Cabo’s market faring? Cabo’s market has not avoided what happened in the world, but has some particularities that has protected it from major danger. First of all, Cabo never had an over offer of product. It’s not like some parts of Florida, Nevada or California where you have millions of dollars in inventory pending to be sold. Less competition has kept the market a bit away from massive price reduction. Secondly, there are no foreclosures. Only 2 % of the real estate market is leveraged or has a mortgage. Therefore, there are not as many desperate owners trying to sell and as many foreclosures, which brings the market down. Cabos’ properties have reduced an average of 7-10% and the market touched its bottom several months ago. If you are thinking on buying property in Los Cabos, this will would probably be the best time in decades.

How would you describe the overall economic situation in Cabo? Cabo suffered last year from bad U.S Media because of reports of swine flu, which reduced tourism enormously despite the fact that there were zero cases in town. Security on the border also affects Cabo, even though we are 1,000 miles away and we have the lowest crime rate in all the Americas.  Then there is the overall economic situation. Cabo has taken a year to recover and has overcome its major challenges as restaurants and tourist services reopen, and roads, bridges and hotel infrastructure improves. Fifty percent of the room bookings at any hotel in Los Cabos was coming from “incentive groups,” most of them paid by U.S corporations for tax deduction purposes, bonuses to employees and motivational trips. U.S corporations hardly made any profits in 2009 so they did not have to spend their money to reduce tax payments. That eliminated half of the market in room bookings. The positive news is that U.S corporations did get profits again in 2010 so this 50% of the market is coming back

What do you see as the long-term real estate and economic repercussions on the Mexican market and economy, if any, as a result of the U.S. crisis? Forty-five percent of the tourist real estate purchases above U.S$150.000 used to come from the U.S, with 45% from Canada and the remaining 10% from the Mexican mainland. So there is a clear dependence. The important thing that I see is that there are thousands of semi-retirees willing to change their lives and move to Mexico, where the cost of living is much lower and property taxes and monthly fees are 20 times lower, along with better service and better weather

Are most foreigners in Cabo “snowbirds” or year round residents? What kind of resources, activities and benefits does Cabo offer a foreigner? We receive both, with more full-time residents every year: Lawyers, doctors, architects, financial people, consultants, entrepreneurs are the people that moved for a while and ended up staying full time. They can participate in any outdoor activity they want, such as surfing, sailing, fishing, diving –we do have the second largest reef in the Paficic after Hawaii—as well as golfing, mountain biking, hiking, shopping, fine dining or just lying on the beach! There are about 60 direct flights a day from any major US city, Canada or mainland Mexico

Why do you think that Americans, Canadians, and Europeans would want to move to Cabo? As of today 100.000 foreigners own property in Los Cabos and the reason has been a mix of things:

• The best weather in the world: Dry, no humidity, never rains
• Security: 100% safe
• Cost of living (less than in their home towns), really low property taxes, food and service
• Great beaches, golfing, infrastructure and nice people
• Distance from home:  from 2 flight from San Diego, 3 from Dallas, 4:30 from Ny, Calgary, Vancouver

Many individuals thinking about visiting or moving to Mexico are scared off by the country’s safety reputation. What can you tell me about the safety situation in Cabo? Does Cabo take any special precautions to protect expats and foreign visitors? Cabo is surrounded by twp oceans, the Sea of Cortez and the Pacific and we belong to the Baja California Sur State, which is almost as big as Italy but with less than one million people. As a high end tourist destination, our San Jose del Cabo airport receives the largest percentage of private planes vs. commercial planes in Latin America. We have three hotels in less than 20 miles distance whose average rate is US$800 a night.  We have multimillionaire houses and resorts. Those who know Cabo and its past are not afraid since they have experienced it and they know there is no crime. The problem is those who have never been in Los Cabos, but once they fly in, they find out and don’t have a problem. There is no need for special protection because there is no risk or danger. You can walk outside at 5am in the morning and nothing will happen. Can you do that in LA or NY? San Jose Costa Rica? Panama City?  There is a U.S and Canadian consulate in town and people can even live here without speaking Spanish

As Mexico gets more negative press in the media, are you finding it harder to “sell” Cabo? How do you deal with these challenges? What are some of the common stereotypes you have to deal with? Certainly, media is a key part in the name and reputation for Los Cabos, and Mexico as a country needs to change this. It is very unfair to be living in this paradise, with extremely low (or nonexistent) crime and full security, great beaches, two marinas, eleven top 100 golf courses, the best fishing in the world , nice hotels and resorts providing great service and suffer from Mexico’s poor safety reputation. We are very isolated from the mainland and anything happening in Mexico.  We receive pop stars and VIPs staying in our beautiful hotels and enjoying our great weather every week.

I remember a couple from San Francisco calling me when all this swine flu happened telling me that they were praying for me and my family while I was holding a beer in my terrace overlooking the whole San Jose Bay and observing the boats coming in an out of the marina. I told them, “You better pray for you since you have swine flu cases there.” And there was a guy from Houston that saw that 40 people were killed in Tamaulipas on TV. I told him that this was less than 100 miles from his home town in Houston and 3,000 miles from Cabo!  It’s all about education. Every single person working in this industry must contribute a bit, from the federal Government to the smallest entities working for tourists. U.S Media is a way to protect some private US interests that try to avoid money going to Mexico. People must know that Mexico is almost as big as the U.S; if there is a hurricane warning in Florida, people from California don’t have to be affected by tourism. Only a few people geographically understand the different parts of Mexico and most just treat it as a whole.

Can you tell me a little bit about your projects and what you do exactly? What market do you cater to? How long have you been doing what you do? In 2006 we decided to develop a nice property in San Jose del Cabo and we completed a nice gated community resort called Alegranza (www.alegranza.com.mx). The resort has 95 units and 90% of the project is sold. There are three heated saline water pools, Jacuzzis, fire pits, saunas, fully equipped gym, nice restaurant with room service, putting green lighted tennis court, concierge, BBQ areas, Sky TV ,wireless internet and preferred rates on many activities in town. Our prices range from $500,000 to $900, 000 U.S dollars and our units are from 2,000 sq.ft to 3,200 sq.ft. People remember us for our views, probably the best ocean views in town, our location, walking distance from everywhere, quality finishes, privacy and the right amenities. We also manage the rentals, so our owners actually get some revenue from rentals while they don’t make use of their units. So we also operate as if we were a hotel, but with the feeling of a home. Forty-five percent of my owners are from Alberta or British Columbia and the other 45% are from the U.S, mostly Colorado, California, Texas, and Montana. The remaining 10% are either from Mexico or Europe. This is the first project we’ve completed in Mexico but my family has been developing in my home country of Spain since the 1950’s.

Article by Jade D’Angelo

Overview: It’s hard to imagine a more culturally packed, higher intensity place than Ciudad de México.  Currently rivaling Tokyo and Seoul for the most highly populated city in the world, Mexico City sits squarely on the pulse of Central America. Mexico is a beautiful dichotomy: A sprawling modern metropolis inhabited by some of the world’s best, but maintaining a strong Mexican tradition and culture.  You may be able to find Starbucks at every corner, but don’t be surprised if you also spot an indigenous couple walking barefoot down a main highway. Mexico City is a fast-paced, colorful, textured, rich urban hot spot.  It is chock full of amazing museums, art, music, delectable food, traditional dances and events, soccer stadiums and fans and breathtaking architecture. The options of things to see and do are endless, and with a little planning, you will be enthralled by what you find in this cultural hybrid.

Mexico City is an easy travel destination.  It is not a holiday destination and thus, there are hotels at every price point constantly available.  Airlines are rarely over-booked from Europe and the Americas, and many direct flights are available to one of the two airports. Plenty of ATMs are scattered about. You can always find an open Internet café, and the city has the largest metro in the world, making transportation a breeze.

History: Mexico City has a tangled history of vast kingdoms, brutal conquests and industrialization.  It rests on what was once a lake, a woof and warp-like structure of canals and farmland.  The maize has long since been replaced with endless asphalt and buildings, but even amongst this modern world, you can happen across the ancient Temple Major in downtown, centuries old cathedrals, and the reverend Guadalupe. There are few cities in the world that provide such an exciting mix of tradition and modern existence.

Climate: There is no right time to visit Mexico City. The climate is temperate year round.  If you do not enjoy frequent showers, you will want to avoid the summer months from June to September. If higher temperatures are not your cup of tea, consider visiting in April. The entire city is green and alive with beautiful purple jacaranda trees.  Whenever you plan on coming, rest assured that the city will be alive with activity — the two exceptions are Holy Week, the week before Easter Sunday and the couple of days after it, and Christmas to New Years, when the city slows down considerably as locals go on vacation. If you are looking to do business in the city you definitely want to avoid these times.  One climatic characteristic to be aware of is the altitude. The city stands at almost a mile and a half above sea level (7,200 feet).  This, combined with the fact that it is in a valley flanked by mountains and two volcanoes, which promote heavy smog, makes everyday activities exhausting for travelers.  Being aware of this can make all the difference. Don’t be surprised if after a day or so of running on adrenaline you suddenly crash. Take it slow, drink plenty of water, rest as needed and you should still enjoy a delightful Mexico City experience.

Attractions and Neighborhoods: Being such a large city, there are truly endless excursions to go on and sights to be seen.  The historic center offers a rich cultural experience and gives one a quick glimpse of DF’s history.  For a bohemian feel you can head to Roma; to Condessa if you desire a beautiful residential area full of hip cafes and a buzzing nightlife, or the affluent Polanco for upscale hotels and cutting edge chefs.

One really should spend a day in the Centro Histórico Neighborhood (Historic Center) and the surrounding areas.  This historical downtown area of Mexico City has a wide plaza known as El Zòcalo.  Full of museums, restaurants and cafes, street merchants, markets, art, music, Aztec dancers, and hotels this is a wonderful place to start.  The Palacio National (the presidential palace and home to exquisite Diego Rivera murals), cathedral, and excavated site of Temple Mayor (the main Aztec Tenochtitlan temple) are just a few of the sights which could keep you occupied for hours.

Directly west of the Zócalo lies the breathtaking Palacio de Bellas Artes.  Slightly further, you will find Mexico City’s famous street, Paseo de la Reforma, adorned with the “Monumento a La Independicia, El Ángel.” This beautifully gilded angel stands as the symbol of Independence and rises above the city to watch over her people.  Daily tours are available and upon summit you will be treated to a bird’s eye view of the city.  Several other monuments mark this grand boulevard and you can easily follow it down to Zona Rosa and enjoy any of the many restaurants on your way to Bosque de Chapultepec. This park is a trip within itself, with lakes, gardens, and abundant trees.  It also holds several museums, including the world famous Museo Nacional de Antrologia and the Museo Nacional de Historia.

Getting Around: Transportation is a breeze throughout the city.  The Metro is extremely economical ($3 pesos, or about 25 US cents and you can ride to any destination one way, no matter how many stops or transfers) and criss-crosses the city very efficiently. Taxis are also extremely abundant and affordable.  Avoid all “Libre” taxis, which are denoted by an “L” before the vehicle’s registration number and license plate. Instead look for a “Sitio”taxi, traditionally denoted by a “S”.  New regulations (changes in license plates) have made it almost impossible to differentiate between Libre and Sitio taxis.  The smartest course of action is to always call a 24-hour Sitio taxi service, which is available at 5516-6020 to 34, 5571-9344, and 5571-3600.  Your hotel or restaurant will gladly call one for you.

Dining: You are never far from some of the world’s most delicious cuisine in Mexico City.  Any type of global delight can be found, although some of the most delicious food to be found is in the markets and taquerias.  Keep in mind this rule of thumb:  Don’t eat unless you can sit at the establishment. Hopefully this will help you avoid any run-ins with less than sanitary establishments.  Perhaps the most tantalizing way to find good eats is stop locals and ask them what they recommend.  Make sure you try the “T Diet” while you are in town, which consists of tortas, tamales, and tacos.  Some of the best al pastor and bistek tacos are to be found in the city, and any good Samaritan can direct you.  Eating is generally quite inexpensive and one of the true joys of Mexico City.  Due to Mexico City’s dichotic character, you can enjoy tamales on the street for breakfast and an exquisite world-class dinner in Polanco later that day.

Safety: Mexico City does have a reputation for being one of the more dangerous cities in the world.  Precautions should be taken to not draw attention to yourself. Do not wear expensive jewelry or watches, carry or show large amounts of cash, advertise your nationality, or generally advertise yourself as a foreigner.  That being said, you will immediately notice how friendly the city is.  In general, the Mexican people are proud of their country and happy to assist in any way they can.  As in any large city, take the proper precautions to not put yourself in dangerous situations, such as hailing a taxi off the street.

Jade D’Angelo is a native Texan with a life long love of travel, exploring different cultures, writing and the people of the world.  After graduating with a liberal arts and biology degree as well as her diploma as an English teacher, she has pursued her life-long dream to live abroad and learn Spanish.  Currently, she can be found living in Mexico City hunting down tacos and absorbing vibrant culture.  Her personal blog that features  her daily adventures can be found at http://lifewithjades.blogspot.com.

Colonia Centro is located in the heart of Mexico City, and includes a mix of business and baking buildings, historical sites, and the central square. With a surrounding of more than 1,500 buildings, the area is well lit and often crowded with tourist and business traffic. This neighborhood also boasts a lot of must-see landmarks, like the relatively uncovered ruins of the Aztec’s Great Temple and many museums, restaurants, hotels, and places to shop. Some bars, clubs, and high-end restaurants are even located within historical buildings. The city underwent a massive $300 million renovation for Mexico City’s 675 anniversary. Travelers should rest assured when walking around the neighborhood to see the sights – police on horseback as well as many female police officers on foot patrol the Alameda Park and Centro Hisórico and are trained in the culture and history of the surrounding areas. The police can be identified easily from their traditional charroapparel, and many of them speak English.

Santa Fe is the perfect neighborhood for those travelers craving a taste of Mexico City’s contemporary culture; it’s not only the newest neighborhood, but also the most modern one. The international companies, universities, and banks offer a glimpse into the expanding twenty-first century nature of Mexico. The neighborhood itself resembles a traditional neighborhood in the United States, and the residents are affluent young professionals who accompany a sea of restaurants and colorful nightlife. Among the booming metropolis is a large shopping center, which is accessible through any of the major public transportation routes that go through Santa Fe. For those looking to make real estate investments, the neighborhood boasts an oversupply of commercial real estate that is the largest in the city. Because this neighborhood is one of Mexico City’s major business districts, the surroundings of corporate high rise buildings, shopping malls, three college campuses, and residential areas provide safe crowds and public areas allowing travelers to blend in and feel secure under the constant vigilance of security accompanying the big business district.

Xochimilco serves as a great escape for visitors looking for historical ambiance and a striking natural environment. The neighborhood is located 15 miles outside the town center, and boasts stretching canals and Floating Gardens that were adored by the Aztecs in ancient times. The canals make for a grand attraction alone, reaching across more than 50 miles, but the neighborhood mirrors traditional colonial-era style that draws large crowds granting travelers safety in numbers. Because Xochimilco is a historic district, it is a coveted neighborhood that the police force considers a privilege to protect. The neighborhood is quaint and modestly sized, with brick streets wrapping around restaurants and historic churches leading to a large main square where vendors sell rugs, vibrant pottery, and traditional clothing at the markets. The neighborhood also hosts 422 festivals every year that draws in many visitors longing for a taste of exotic Mexican culture and history. Declared a World Heritage site by UNESCO in 1987, security around the neighborhood is abundant and monitored by the federal government.

San Angel was a colonial-era weekend retreat for nobles, but in modern times it is a striking neighborhood with traditional homes, winding cobblestone streets and charming museums. Many policemen patrol the area and linger around the renowned Bazar del Sábado, or Saturday Bazaar, which is located at Plaza San Jacinto. The bazaar offers an array of art and antiques, where treasures are sold right around small cantinas and restaurants. Nearby, the Centro Cultural Isidro Fabela, or Casa del Risco, boasts a large baroque fountain made of shattered porcelain. Within walking distance is the Iglesia San Jacinto church dating from the 16^th-century, with a matching baroque-style altar.  With many ecclesiastical sites around San Angel and large markets, the area is well lit and does not attract a large crime rate as it is carefully monitored day and night by the local police force.

Coyoacánis just east of San Angel, and is a suburban neighborhood renowned for its lovely town square, old estates, colonial-era cobblestone streets, and some of the most notable museums in Mexico City. It is ideal to travel to this neighborhood as a day trip, because it is difficult to find accommodations. Giving off an almost Bohemian essence, the neighborhood offers a hippie-style market on Sundays, and is known for its beatnik feel as the location of Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera, and Leon Trotsky’s home after their exile from Stalin’s regime in the USSR. This neighborhood does not attract a large group of affluent visitors, and as such is not considered a target for petty thievery and crime.

Although these neighborhoods are recognized as safe locations for traveling in Mexico City, it is important that travelers looking to explore the cityfollow tips for getting around safely. Travelers are discouraged from hailing taxis in the street; most hotels recommend that the concierge or front desk call for a cab. When they do so, they also take the number of the taxi as well as the driver’s name. Official Taxis, or Taxis Autorizados, have stands at airports and bus stations that are safe for visitors to hail on their own. It is also helpful to blend into crowds as much as possible by avoiding carrying maps or any symbols that would label someone as a tourist to avoid being a target for thievery. The hotel room safe is an ideal location to stash any extra cash, credit cards, or a passport. Visitors are advised to carry only a small amount of cash that they need for the moment. Most importantly, if travelers feel unsafe, hotel managers and staff are knowledgeable, and can point you in the right direction or alert you to any areas of the city that you can trust or to those areas that should avoid. Should you have items that are stolen abroad, more information can be found here.

For information on traveling to romantic spots in Mexico, check out romantic hotels in Puerto Vallarta.

Anna Patrick is a Communications major at Boston College and a frequent commuter between Boston and the Washington DC metropolitan area in Northern Virginia. A seasoned traveler, Patrick has lived in London and traveled extensively throughout Mexico, Canada, Austria, Germany, Italy, France, the Czech Republic, Greece, Scotland, England and Turkey.

If you’re shy like me, meeting people in a foreign country can be a slow and daungting process, but it’s not impossible. The odds are, if you could make friends back home, there’s no reason you can’t make friends in your new home.  I’ve moved abroad twice: Once to Panama City and then to Bogota, so I know how it feels to be alone and lonely in a foreign country. You tell everyone things are fantastic and you’re absolutely sure of your decision, but inside, you can’t help having those nagging doubts that maybe you were wrong; maybe you just can’t make it work in X country. So what do you do when you’re alone in a foreign country and don’t know anyone?

(1) Look into expat resources. I know that most of us move abroad because we want to assimilate in the local culture and make Panamanian/Costa Rican/Mexican friends, but I’ve found that expat groups are a really great way to meet people going through some of the same things. Everyone who joins these forums or groups is looking to meet people and socialize, and many of these groups are also open to non-expats who are interested in language/culture exchange. If you’re in the under 40 demographic, Coachsurfing.org  is a fantastic resource; aside from hosting meet-ups at local bars or parks, most Latin American countries also have sub categories meaning that if you  want to learn French, go hiking or get involved with the local gay community, there’s likely a group for you. Aside from Coachsurfing, most Latin American countries will have at least one social group catering to expats, and the Internet is your best resource for finding out more about these.

(2) Join something. For months after moving to Colombia, I complained to anyone who would listen (in the U.S. because I didn’t actually have anyone who would listen in Colombia) that I wasn’t meeting anyone. It then dawned on me that meeting people takes effort and it wasn’t going to happen if I sat around my apartment all day working in front of my computer and didn’t join any clubs or grups. So I moved my home office to a local cafe, joined a gym and am considering buying a bike and joining a weekend biking club. Soccer is huge in Latin America, so if you’re interested in “futbol”  joining a local soccer league is a great way to meet people with similar interests. Many countries also have ultimate Frisbee and baseball/softball leagues, as well as birdwatching, hiking, reading, poker groups and more. Join something that interests you.

(3) Live with people. Even if you’ve lived on your own for 10 years and the thought of having roommates fills you with dread, living with other people is one of the best way to feel connected to your new country and build a social network. Latin Americans are notoriously  friendly and outgoing, and will usually make an effort to include you in activities. Plus, roommates will introduce you to friends who will introduce you to other friends.

(4) Resist the urge to say no when people ask you to come out. As I mentioned, I’m a very shy person so the thought of going to a party with just one person I know (they might go talk to someone else and leave me standing awkwardly alone in a corner!) is terrifying.  But I always push myself to say yes and I nearly always have a good time. Yes, maybe I’m standing awkwardly on my own for a few minutes, but it never takes long before I’m talking to someone new. Even if you don’t make lasting friendships at bars or parties, these activities provide a social outlet and an opportunity to learn more about the culture and customs in your new country.

(5) Take a group Spanish or Portuguese class. If you’re already fluent in the local language, pick up another language. Group language classes will give you the opportunity to meet people from all over the world. If you’re under 30, sign up for a class at a university, where you’re bound to meet other young people interested in getting to know you and learn more about your culture. If you’re a little older, language institutes and academies often hold night classes for professionals that cater to a 30 plus crowd and even language classes aimed at retired folks.

For more on my travel experiences, check out my blog. For additional travel information, take a look at my pros and cons of visiting Latin America. Or, check out Adriana Harvey’s story about her experience studying abroad in Cuba.

However, in an attempt to better answer this question more scientifically, I’ve been keeping track of my expenses for the last few weeks here in Bogota, and it breaks down like this:

(1) Rent (1 bedroom with cable, Wi-Fi, electricity, gas, water and once-a-week maid service included in a “nice” area of town): $225.00

***Of course, if you are 60, you probably don’t want to live in a 5-bedroom apartment with a bunch of 25 year-olds, so I called some rental agencies in a variety of middle upperclass neighborhood and found that a 1-bedroom (no utilities) apartment runs between $250 and $1,000.

(2) Utilities in an upper middle-class neighborhood (electricity, gas, Internet, cable, water) if you decide to live on your own: $195 per month

(3) ”Typical” Meal in a middle class neighborhood: $3.00

(4) Nice meal in Bogota’s most upscale dining district (without appetizer or wine): $10.00-$17.00

(5) Gym membership in a nicer gym (per month): $30.00-$100.00

(6) Bottle of water: $0.75

(7) Taxi, 65 city blocks: $4.50

(8) Typical monthly grocery bill at a “higher-end” chain store: $80.00-$100.oo

(9) Gallon of gas: $3.00-$4.00

(10) Normal bus: $0.65; Transmilenio bus: $0.80.

(11) Cocktail at a high-end bar: $7.50-$12.50

(12) Beer at your average bar: $0.90

(13) Coffee at a casual bakery or cafe: $0.50-$1.00

(14) Skim milk frappaccino with light cream at a “fancy” cafe: $2-$4

(15) Health Insurance (I have my own in the U.S., but I’ve called around and a policy, depending whether you get public or private, runs anywhere between): $35-$120 per month

(16) Misc (because I always seem to spend money and have nothing to show for it): $150.00

Total Expenditures in Bogota:

Total: $764.00

Total Expenditures in the U.S:

Total: $639.00

So basically, I need $1,303 to live every month. Obviously, this figure doesn’t reflect leisure travel, home-insurance, car insurance, car payment or savings, but this budget should give you an idea how much you need to get by and have a few nice dinners and drinks along the way.

For more on my experiences in Latin America, check out my blog. And for additional information on Latin America, check out more reasons to visit.

A lower cost of living. The cost of living in Latin America is often a fraction of what it is in the United States, Canada and Europe. I hesitate to call this a positive because the price of this lower cost of living is often an exploited, underappreciated workforce, but it’s hard to deny that this is one of the top reasons foreigners decide to move south. Basically, you can have a higher quality of life here for less.  You can live comfortably in most Latin American cities with $1,500-$3,000 a month.  In Bogota, you can get your nails done for $3.50-$5, you can have a daily maid who cooks and cleans for the equivalent of $300 a month and a good meal at a high-end restaurant will rarely cost you more than $15 . Plus, you can rent yourself a decent two-bedroom apartment for $400 a month.

Nature. In one word, nature in Latin America is spectacular. Unlike the U.S. where you have to drive at least a few hundred miles to notice any significant temperature or geographical changes, climate and vegetation changes by altitude rather than latitude here. In two hours, you can go from freezing snowcapped mountains to sweltering, tropical lowlands. Whether you want beaches, jungles, plains or mountains, it’s usually just a short drive away.

A happening party scene.  I don’t think I’m being subjective when I say Latin Americans know how to party. In fact, I’ve talked to a lot of expats who decided to move down here exclusively for the party life.   Whether you’re into salsa, rock, techno, heavy metal or hip-hop, most mid-sized cities have something for everyone. And unlike the U.S. where 30 seems to be the cut-off age for all night partying and debauchery, grandma and grandpa like to get down just as much as the twenty-something crowd and they’re not opposed indulging – or overindulging – in a little rum or aguardiente. Many Latin Americans I’ve met strongly believe that partying is as essential to a happy, fulfilled life as say, a job and friends.

A more laidback pace of life. It seems like every other weekend in Colombia is a holiday weekend, and this goes for most of Latin America. Unlike the U.S. where workaholics are a common occurrence, relaxation is accepted and expected here. Somehow, the days just seem to last longer and there’s time for more. Some bigger cities are taking a more U.S.-based approach to work, but small town shops still sometimes close down for lunch.

People are nice. They often go out of their way to help you. Sure, there are some bad apples just like anywhere else, but for the most part, people do their best to make you feel welcome and at home. They worry about and fuss over you and do what they can to give you a good impression of their country.

Business opportunities. I’m no business woman, but Latin America definitely offers incentives the entrepreneurial among us. Foreign investors often benefit from low corporate tax rates, a cheaper workforce and a growing middle class with increasing purchasing power.

But none of these is the reason I decided to move here. My reasons are more intangible. I  can’t even really articulate them to myself: Almost my entire family lives 3,000 miles away, I’d be making more money in the U.S., I’d have  a familiar social network and 24-hour convenience stores for when I get a late night junk food craving. So what made me leave all of this behind to move to Bogota, where I had no job lined up and a social network consisting of my 78 year-old grandmother and her equally elderly friends? For sure, it’s not always rainbows and butterflies: There are times I seriously consider going back home. Sometimes it’s lonely, frustrating or seem like it’s more trouble than it’s worth.  I miss my family and my friends and wonder what kind of life I’d have back home. So I don’t really have an answer for why I moved here, expect that somehow, I’m happier here than I was in the U.S. Maybe it’s just a phase, maybe I’m looking for my roots (my parents are from here, after all) or maybe it’s just a better fit for now– After all, I do get by working just three or four hours a day doing what I love . All I know is that right now, it feels right.

For more of my experiences in Latin America, check out my blog. For information on places to visit in Latin America, check out my articles on Brazil, Nicaragua, Ecuador, and Costa Rica. Or, take a look at the negative side of Latin America as I see it.

Alvin Starkman  M.A., LL.B.
Try searching the Americas to find creators of folk art with more form, symbolism and importance to the development and sustenance of their culture, than those of indigenous ancestry in Oaxaca (wa–HAW–ka), one of the southernmost Mexican states.

Many so-called experts in folk art have mistakenly written that the origins of Oaxaca’s wood carving tradition date back fifty or sixty years, to a small number of carvers residing in one of the central valleys of Oaxaca, a few miles from the state capital of the same name.  The error has consistently been equating the recent commercialization of the art-form with its origins, and ignoring its pre-Hispanic roots and subsequent development.

Jacobo Ángeles lives with his wife María and two children in San Martín Tilcajete, one of three main native Zapotec villages, where most residents earn a living from carving and painting colorful figures, often generically referred to as alebrijes.  The others are Arrazola and La Unión Tejalapan.

At age 12 Jacobo began learning to carve from his father.  Later on he was mentored by village elders.  “Over the past few decades our craft has without a doubt changed dramatically,” Jacobo explains, “with the use of more synthetic paints, a tremendous increase in the range of figures being carved, and with domestic and international demand for our carvings growing exponentially and affecting how and what we produce.  But remember, my ancestors were carving animals right here in this region before the Spanish arrived in the 1500’s.  And we were using only natural paint colors which we derived from fruits and vegetables, plants and tree bark, clay, and even insects.  In my family we still use what we find around us to make paint for our figures, and our wood of choice continues to be the branches of the copal tree.”

San Martín Tilcajete is located about a 40 minute drive from the city of Oaxaca, along a highway leading to the state’s Pacific resort towns, including one of the oldest ports, Puerto Escondido.  Puerto Escondido was a hub for the export of coffee and other cash crops during colonial times, but is now a popular beach destination for Mexican and international vacationers alike.  Many travelers combine their sun and sand vacation with a visit to Oaxaca, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, searching out unique pieces of folk art including dance masks, pottery and clay figures, rugs and tapestries, and antiques from the colonial period forward.  And of course there are the pre-Hispanic ruins, galleries, impressive Dominican churches, museums, and renowned Oaxacan cuisine.

“My ancestors used a 20-day calendar,” Jacobo continues, “and each day was represented by a different creature.  So every Zapotec person had an animal with whom he had a connection, and each animal had certain characteristics which carried over to the individual.  For example, the jaguar represents power and ultimate strength, the frog is characterized by honesty and openness, the coyote watchful observation, the turtle always a troublemaker prone to breaking the rules, the eagle technical and strategic power, and so on.  My people used to carve figures of just these 20 animals.  They started out as small whittlings for good luck that people would keep in a revered niche in the home, or wear around the neck as amulets.  They also carved larger figures for their children to use as toys.”

After much probing, an almost forgotten story emerges of the use of decoys of wood and other materials.   Jacobo reveals:  “My people used a variety of methods to attract different kinds of game, but for hunting birds of prey, rabbits, and deer, yes they at times used decoys.  A painted wooden snake would be placed on the ground in an area where ants had trampled the grasses so the snake decoy would easily be seen by eagles.  To hunt rabbit, my ancestors would attach a rabbit tail to one end of a straw hat, and at the other end another tail with a face painted on it.  For deer, a crude wooden deer torso with real antlers would be placed in the tall brush.  So carving was historically important to our people for not only totemic and related reasons, but it was directly related to our subsistence.  All the written records from the period of the conquest, and not just local legend, confirm the importance of woodcarving.”

“But look at what we now carve.  While in my family we still use natural paints, and still carve our totems, we’ve transformed a simple yet important and symbolic tradition into something very different.  In our villages we now carve many more than those 20 animals because of collector demand.  More importantly, we’re able to make our heritage better understood and appreciated by the world.  In our own workshop, our painting depicts designs and representations of our culture … friezes from the ancient ruin at Mitla, symbols representing waves, mountains and fertility, the totems, and other metaphors for our culture, past and present.”

Indeed the world has taken notice.   Jacobo’s work is prominently displayed in The Smithsonian Institute, Chicago’s National Museum of Mexican Art, and elsewhere throughout the continent and further abroad, in museums, art colleges and galleries.  Jacobo regularly traverses the U.S. promoting Oaxacan folk art and his Zapotec heritage, teaching in a diversity of educational venues ranging from junior schools to university departments of fine art, and as honored speaker at art exhibition openings.

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A visit to the Ángeles workshop, accessed by a heavily pot-holed narrow dirt road towards one end of the village, affords an opportunity to learn about this extraordinary skill-set, from Jacobo, Maria — an excellent painter in her own right — and some two dozen other members of their family who produce some of the finest quality carvings found anywhere on the continent.

The men do most of the carving, while women do most of the painting, but the tasks are definitely not exclusively based on gender lines. Carving is done with non – mechanical hand-tools such as machetes, chisels and knives.  The only time a more sophisticated tool is used is when a chain saw is employed to cut off a branch and level a base for a proposed figure.

Except when a special order is received, the woodworkers in the family are given artistic license to carve whatever figure they wish.  A piece of tree trunk will “speak” to one of these specialists, and be the inspiration for creating a particular animal: the shape, thickness, and bends and twists in the piece come alive.  After the bark is removed, a detailed outline is drawn, defining the image with greater clarity and detail.  The sculpting in earnest then begins.

“From the female copal tree we are able to make figures out of one piece of wood, often very large and intricate.  This wood is soft and easy to work with.  The male tree is harder, and branches tend to be smaller and somewhat delicate, so we use it to make animals which we assemble in the process.”

The carving alone takes up to a month, at times longer.  The figure is then left to dry for up to 10 months, depending on its overall size and thickness.  Because of the properties of copal, and Oaxaca’s semi-tropical climate, the wood is susceptible to termite infestation.  Accordingly, during the drying process the piece is soaked in a gasoline / insecticide mixture for several hours.  As an added assurance, it’s then placed in an oven, just in case eggs have evaded extermination.  “All of our pieces are guaranteed to never have a termite [powder post beetle] problem,” Jacobo assures.

Since the figures are fashioned while the wood is green and more easily workable, the wood separates while drying. “There are a couple of members of my family whose main job is to fill the cracks before the painting begins.”  For this remedial work they use wood shims as well as a sawdust-glue mixture.  But even these slivers of wood and the sawdust have been cured.  “We’re proud of our work, and never want to have any problems with any of our buyers, whether someone is spending $20 or $2,000.”

In almost all cases in the Ángeles workshop, one person carves and another paints.  Once a figure has left the hands of the carver, all proprietary rights are released, and another member of the family is entrusted with the painting.  Nephew Magdaleno explains:  “Occasionally one of my cousins will come up to me and say ‘what do you think about these colors or this kind of design concept for this coyote,’ and I’ll give my feedback, but it doesn’t happen very often, and I’m invariably pleased with the result.  For me it’s the form that’s most important, and for whoever’s painting, it’s the imagery it captures.”

One cannot help but gasp at the sculpting genius which goes into each piece:  A starving dog scratching fleas, a bear with its paw in a honey pot, a snake constricting a wincing jaguar, a winged horse on its hinds, a woman with long braided locks and the body of an armadillo, or a deer, life-size by Mexican standards.  There’s something particularly arresting about each creation: the ever-so-flowing and realistic movement, a fanciful stance, or a familiar pose striking a chord with our popular characterization.  However the painting is anything but familiar.  No color goes untested and the intricacy of and variation in design is remarkable.

Theories abound regarding the beginning of the modern-day manifestation of the tradition.  Some say that because hallucinogenic mushrooms are native to this part of Mexico, drug induced revelations caused the imaginations of some to wander, ultimately becoming expressed in their carvings.  The better explanation is that knowledge of colorful, large, papier maché alebrijes or dragon-like forms which originated in the State of Mexico, eventually filtered down to Oaxaca, and were the inspiration for the fathers of contemporary painted wooden carvings.  “You know, it’s not accurate to refer to what we create as alebrijes, because to the older generation of Mexicans, and to true folk art collectors, alebrijes were developed near D.F. (Distrito Federal, or Mexico City, the nation’s capital), and what we do is completely different.”

Jacobo demonstrates how his ancestors created natural paints, historically utilized for dying clothing, painting buildings, and ceremonially as face and body decoration used for rites of passage, fiestas, prayer and other important occasions.  Today their primary use, at least in Jacobo’s family, is for painting the carvings.  He explains with the assistance of his machete and a tree trunk how he cuts away the reddish inside part of the bark of the male copal, allows it to dry, then toasts and grinds it:  “This is a primary base that we use, which allows us to create a range of colors, tones and shades. Just watch.”

Using his hands as palettes, Jacobo begins by placing a small amount of the powdered bark in one hand, squeezes juice from a lime, creating a brown, which he then places on an unpainted wooden owl.  “Yes the owl is also one of our sacred creatures, the great healer, quiet and humble.”  He reveals:  “Now over time, and in the sun, this color will change or fade and be absorbed into the wood.  So what our ancestors learned to do was take the dried sap from the copal tree and heat it up with honey.  The resulting liquid is then mixed with the paint, changing the color a little; see, it becomes a deep orange … but most importantly it acts as a mordent making the color permanent, and a little shiny.” He adds powdered limestone, and the color changes to black.  With the addition of baking soda and more lime juice it becomes a deep yellow, and with more chemical it miraculously becomes magenta.  A new base is then started, with crushed pomegranate seeds.  Magically the pulverized pink is transformed into green with the addition of limestone powder. Mixed with the magenta, it becomes navy blue. With the addition of zinc it becomes grey, and with more zinc, white.  Blue from the añil tree, indigo, is altered with the addition of bicarbonate, zinc, lime juice or the powdered lime mineral.  Corn mold, a black gooey culinary delicacy known as huitlacoche, when fermented and then powdered, yields ochre.  The red of the dried and then crushed minute insect, the cochineal, which feeds off its host nopal cactus, becomes orange with the addition of the juice of any of a number of acidic fruits.

The demonstration terminates with Jacobo asking, “what´s your favorite animal,” following which he finger paints a rabbit from the rainbow of colors on his palms, as only Alice could have imagined.

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With approximately 150 families now producing painted wooden figures in these and a couple of other smaller villages, the questions left unanswered remain:  What facilitated and drove more carvers to adopt the papier maché style of using brilliant color combinations, and how can everyone in these villages make a living from this solitary art-form?

As with other crafts in the central valleys of Oaxaca, their production wasn’t always the primary means of sustenance for the populace.  Traditionally, handicrafts were a hobby or part-time trade, beginning with very few items being sold to the odd passerby, adventurer or traveler.  In the case of rugs from nearby Teotitlán del Valle, there were trade routes that producers followed in order to effect more sales in other regions of the state, and in some cases beyond.  But the primary means of family survival was working the land and small-scale ranching.  And in the case of the carving villages, there never was a broader market, although in San Martín Tilcajete embroidered shirts, blouses and dresses were an extremely well-received craft throughout the 1960’s and into the 80’s.

Dramatic change in production and marketing of wooden carvings had its genesis in the 1940’s.  The pan-American highway cut through the Sierra Madre del Sur mountains, reaching Oaxaca, opening up the region to the north, in particular Mexico City and the border states.  Until then Oaxaca was relatively isolated notwithstanding a rail connection. By the 1950’s and early 60’s Americans and Canadians were prospering from the post-war boom, credit cards had been mailed to virtually everyone, and word spread of a new kind of vacation, in a third world country, Mexico.  Jet air travel facilitated the transformation.  The women’s movement meant more two income families, resulting in more disposable income for traveling.  Mexicana Airlines and Oaxacan travel agents partnered to begin offering tour packages, which further facilitated tourism to the region.

The hippie movement of the 1960’s and early 70’s brought Oaxaca to the forefront of the alternative lifestyle, with throngs of youth and their pop idols traveling to Huautla de Jiménez, then a tiny Oaxacan village, to eat hallucinogenic mushrooms with the now infamous healer María Sabina.  North American youth saw and purchased the first generation of contemporary wood carvings.

By the 1980’s, as a consequence of multiple factors, Oaxacan alebrijes had become well-established as folk art, with the market continuing to grow. The economic implication was that farmers and ranchers were able to spend more time carving and painting, and less time in the countryside and in marketplaces vending their produce and animals.   With a new toll-road opening from Mexico City to Oaxaca in 1995, access to the southern state became even quicker and easier, and safe. In good conscience, travel writers were no longer able to warn tourists about driving the switchbacks, back-road banditos, or cars overheating on secondary roads without service stations.

The future market for the artistry?   While the odd visitor to a Oaxacan coastal resort such as Puerto Escondido, or the more popular Huatulco, does visit the state capital and the workshops of carvers like Jacobo, most do not.  Within the next four years a new highway to the coast will open, cutting road travel time by at least a third.  Even more sun worshipers will visit Oaxaca, and marvel at the art of Jacobo and María Ángeles.

Since opening their family workshop in 1996, without a doubt Jacobo and María have singularly raised the quality bar for other villagers who aspire to mirror their success.  With Oaxacan wood carvings of superior quality now well established on the world stage, and access no longer an impediment, the challenge for others in San Martín Tilcajete will be to achieve the success of the Ángeles family through production of like quality, until now eluding most.

A challenge for all carvers in the region is to ensure a continuous supply of copal to meet demand.  A reforestation project spear-headed about 15 years ago by the late master of contemporary Mexican art, Rodolfo Morales, continues through his Foundation.  The Ángeles family with friends and other villagers spend the last Sunday of each July, in the midst of the rainy season, planting, a part of their sustainable living effort:  ensuring an ongoing supply of raw product, cutting only branches for making figures so that the tree continues to grow, reducing waste by utilizing the slivers and sawdust in repair work and any remaining twigs and branches as firewood for cooking, and using the sap and bark in paint production.  “And you know,” Jacobo reminds, “for generations we’ve been using the hardened sap as incense, mainly at religious cememonies.  There are even knifemakers down the road in Ocotlán, who engrave their hand-forged blades using a special ink made with the sap.  Have you visited the cuchillería of Ángel Aguilar?”

For high end collectors, we can only encourage the success of all efforts aimed at maintaining the growth and development of the Oaxacan woodcarving tradition, since it satisfies and advances our penchant for and obsession with quality hand-fashioned craftsmanship.  For the artisans in the region, aside from the obvious economic importance, it’s part of maintaining their Zapotec heritage and illustrating the richness of the culture to the broader world.

The workshop of Jacobo and María Ángeles is located at Calle Olvido #9, San Martín Tilcajete, Ocotlán, Oaxaca  ( t:   951-524-9047 ;  w:  http://www.tilcajete.org  ;  e:  angeles@tilcajete.org ).

Alvin Starkman together with wife Arlene operates Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ).  Alvin received his masters in social anthropology in 1978, and his law degree in 1984.  Thereafter he was a litigator in Toronto until taking early retirement.  He and his family were frequent visitors to Oaxaca between 1991 and when they became permanent residents in 2004. Alvin writes about life and cultural traditions in Oaxaca, tours couples, families and small groups to the craft villages, ruins, colonial churches and more off-the-beaten-track destinations in Oaxaca state, and is a special consultant to documentary film production companies.

With thousands of miles of coastline on both the Gulf of Mexico and the Pacific Ocean, the country is a sportfisherman’s dream. The fish are big. The prices are low. But deciding where to go – and who to hire – is difficult and can make or break a trip.

Lower Baja – Cabo San Lucas and Loreto

Despite being close together geographically, Cabo and Loreto are yin and yang in terms of fishing.  Cabo is famous for big gamefish – marlin, tuna, shark, and dolphin – that prowl the steep banks off shore.  The fishing can be crazy at times, especially when large schools of baitfish congregate on the dropoffs.  Additionally, the sportfishing industry is well developed and there is no trouble finding a boat; however, the quality varies widely.

Loreto, on the other hand, excels in light tackle angling.  Fishing here is good year-round, with yellowfin tuna in the winter months and huge numbers of dorado in the summer.  Larger game, such as marlin and grouper, can also be found, but Loredo is really a light tackle paradise.

Puerto Vallarta, Mazatlan

Across the gulf and down the coast from Loreto is the billfishing mecca of Mazatlan.  Huge marlin congregate in large schools in the winter and spring months with sailfish, tuna, and dorado available year-round.  About every species of sportfish in the Pacific frequent Mazatlan’s waters at some point of the year, uncluding wahoo and roosterfish.

Similarly, Puerto Vallarta offers a buffet line of game fish species to target, from marlin to sailfish to tuna.  Any month of the year holds the possibility of landing a number of large fish in a day.  It may be a huge tourist resort town, but with so much competition among charter boats good deals can be found.

Cancun/Cozumel

Across the country on the Gulf of Mexico, the megaresorts of Cancun and Cozumel offer unsurpassed fishing in the gulf.  While the billfish are usually smaller than their Pacific counterparts, many people claim that their numbers are much higher in the gulf, with multiple hookups a day not uncommon.  Also, the smaller sizes of marlin and sailfish offer great opportunites to take these beasts on flyrods.  Speaking of fly fishing, the numerous islands around Cancun and Cozumel hold endless, virgin flats with tarpon, bonefish, barracuda, and permit.

photo provided by blackmarlinfishing at http://www.flickr.com/photos/blackmarlinfishingblog/2582943383/

Know of some other Mexican fishing hotspots? Reviews, tips, recommendations?  Share your knowledge below

Alvin Starkman, M.A., LL.B.

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 attending her classes.

La Casa de los Sabores Cooking School is located at Libres 205, in downtown Oaxaca. Maximum class size is 8, with private lessons available upon request. You can register for Pilar’s classes by calling (951) 516-5704 or e-mailing her at: bbsabores@prodigy.net.mx. ( Websites: http://www.laolla.com.mx ; http://www.mexonline.com/sabores.htm )

Alvin Starkman together with wife Arlene operates Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ), a unique Oaxaca bed and breakfast experience offering the comfort and service of a large downtown Oaxaca hotel, in a quaint suburban setting with the personal touch of country inn style Oaxaca lodging. . Alvin received his masters in social anthropology in 1978, and his law degree in 1984. Thereafter he was a litigator in Toronto until taking early retirement. He and his family were frequent visitors to Oaxaca between 1991 and when they became permanent residents in 2004. Alvin reviews restaurants, writes about life and cultural traditions in Oaxaca, and tours couples and families to the villages.

Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.

We usually think of weddings and baptisms as rites of passage we attend on separate occasions. But November 27, 2008, marked the celebration of both in San Lorenzo Albarradas, Oaxaca: the nuptials of a couple in their early twenties, and the baptism of their three-year-old daughter. What resulted was a melding of highly organized custom characterized by extremes of indulging, giving, and all-out merriment.

San Lorenzo Albarradas (“San Lorenzo”) is a village with about 1,900 inhabitants of Zapotec ancestry, located 60 kilometers east of the city of Oaxaca, in southern Mexico. It’s accessed by a paved highway which, beyond the pre-Hispanic ruin of Mitla, winds as it ascends foothills of the Sierra Madre del Sur. San Lorenzo has the usual municipal building housing the office of its presidente municipal (mayor) and local police, a health clinic, school, marketplace, and of course Catholic church and cemetery. Residents engage in predominantly subsistence economic activity: cultivating corn, beans, squash, palm leaf and agave; tending sheep and goats; gathering firewood; and servicing the local population as well as tourist vans en route to and from San Isidro Roaguía (“San Isidro”). San Isidro, designated a marginal community by the federal government, is home to the bubbling springs and petrified waterfalls known as Hierve el Agua. San Lorenzo, San Isidro and environs are home to seven small, rudimentary yet wonderfully functional fábricas de mezcal (mezcal factories).

The marriage of Gladis and Eli and the baptism of their daughter Lexy were planned in early autumn. Santos and Lupita were selected as padrinos de la boda (godparents of the wedding), and long-time grade school friends Daniel and wife Alma as padrinos of the baptism.

If not through blood or marriage, then through compadrazgo (fictive kinship), most people are related one way or another in small Oaxacan towns and villages. On this occasion about a quarter of the residents were invited to partake in at least some of the festivities. Many have relations in nearby San Isidro. But as a result of a longstanding dispute between the villages regarding the right to exact a fee from tourists visiting Hierve el Agua, only recently resolved after years of Hatfield and McCoy antics, invitations were extended to only residents of San Lorenzo, apart from that extended to me and my wife Arlene.

As custom normally dictates, we arrive in town for the mass shortly after the designated 12-noon start time. Daniel and Alma, and Daniel’s parents Hilarino and Sara, had counseled that we would be expected to remain until the madrugada (middle of the night, generally until just before sunrise), and to thus be prepared. We really didn’t take the advice to heart. As once again custom normally dictates, we were just as clear that we would arrive fairly early on, with no guarantees regarding the duration of our visit.

We’d known Hilarino, Sara and family for about four years, initially as a result of purchasing mezcal from Hilarino’s roadside palenque (mezcal facility), and subsequently from eating and imbibing in Sara’s adjoining eatery. We’d broken bread in their home, and they in ours. We’d laughed and traded stories of differences in our respective cultures, and cried over the death of their forty-day-old grandson. They’d missed our 25^th anniversary, and we Daniel’s wedding. But for this occasion they required our assurance that our attendance at the festivities would not be pre-empted.

Booming bottle-rocket fireworks direct us to the standing-room-only church service. Guests cram the entranceway and sit under the shade around the courtyard. Dress ranges from Sunday best to workday usual. Gladis, Eli and Lexy emerge about a half hour after our arrival, shockingly early based upon our prior attendances at functions with a religious component. But perhaps ritual was rushed in anticipation of more important local custom to follow. In rural Oaxaca there is often not very much to rejoice, so when the opportunity arises, no expense is spared, figuratively and literally.

As rice showers the honored celebrants, and candies the rest of us, the six piece brass and percussion band begins with upbeat traditional song. I spot a familiar face, Santos the palenquero, competitor of Hilarino:

“Hilarino invite you? He’s my cousin you know.”

“And what about you and your wife?,” I ask.

“Lupita and I are the padrinos de la boda, so you have to come to our home with the procession. Hilarino’s coming too.”

I’ve yet to see Santos without his stiff, off-white cowboy hat, and this occasion is no different. Others wear the softer felt-like version in beiges, greys and blacks, many adorned with peacock feather. The groom, Eli, is dressed in a smartly tailored, very formal light olive suit with all the trimmings, while his bride is in a traditional white strapless gown with long train. Their daughter’s dress is equally appropriate, and yes, predictable. Several downtown Oaxaca retailers have found their niche marketing dresses for weddings, quince años (celebration when a girl turns 15, similar to the Bat Mitzvah in the Jewish faith), baptisms and confirmations. Clearly in San Lorenzo they go all out. In fact the young family, aside from being in this physical environment could have passed for urban Oaxacans of much greater means.

As the band, bride and groom leave the church grounds, Hilarino informs me that I’ll accompany him and others to Santos’ house, my wife Arlene will stay with the rest of his family at theirs, and we will reunite in a short while. Arlene and her group trail off. Close family members stop at the bride and groom’s residence to make final preparations for later festivities. Our procession walks about a mile further, to the padrinos’ home at the end of a meandering potholed roadway.

During 2005 – 2007, pavement of the main street through town was completed. However with few exceptions the rest of the roads are dirt, connected by narrow pathways. Land ownership is in the process of reform, with privatization on the way and promised for 2009. Homes range from extremely modest adobe construction with laminated metal roofing, to a number of large, contemporary-styled two storey clay brick and block abodes. Foundations are often made of locally mined limestone, known as cantera. The padrinos’ compound is somewhere in between, with a couple of buildings composed of brick and adobe, plastered and brightly painted, and a few outer structures for cattle, cooking and storage. The mezcal trade has been good to them.

Our arrival is greeted with fireworks. Without missing a beat the band takes its place aside a manger. About 15 of us are now inside a room with couches facing an altar where Gladis and Eli are kneeling. Additional seating is brought in, along with mezcal and then beer. I take both, as is now my custom, not unlike that of many others. I follow the lead of the elder to my right, pouring a few drops of mezcal on the floor, a sacrament in this village. I think back to the past 57 years of annually spilling ten drops of wine at Passover Seders, recalling the plagues heaped upon Moses’ people by Pharaoh. Chuckling ensues as I then knock over and spill Hilarino’s beer to my left. At first I decline a second beer, but after convincing I accept. After all, the bottle had already been opened for me. Where custom dictates, I rarely decline.

Beer and mezcal are the most typical alcoholic beverages served at rural celebrations in and around the central valleys of Oaxaca. Urbanites of the middle classes tend more towards tequila and scotch, usually Johnny Walker Red Label, simply referred to as whisky. But we all have our favorite mezcals, usually produced in small mom-and-pop operations peppering roadsides in specific regions of the state, usually much better than the commercial labels.

The presidente municipal, Hilarino’s brother, mistakes me for a priest acquaintance of his … a Spanish guëro (white person) with moustache and grey hair. “Not even close,” I answer to laughter. A couple of children begin rhyming off numbers in English. I inform that Arlene gives private English lessons. The ears of each in attendance perk up, since while learning English is valued, aside from very limited instruction in the local school there is no one to teach:

“I’ll make you a deal, Mr. Mayor,” I say. “Once privatization arrives, you find me a small plot of land or very modest home for Arlene and me to buy so we can spend the odd weekend in San Lorenzo, and I’ll make sure she gives free lessons to the kids.”

More chortling, and of course the obligatory “salud!” as we toast the idea.

Someone spots a bull seemingly charging towards the house, having broken loose from its tie. “No es bravo,” we’re assured, so we re-take our seats and continue with levity and further small talk.

After the better part of an hour, following the lead of Santos and the newlyweds we move outside to the covered dining area, taking our seats on benches accommodating about 20 of us. The band continues. More family has arrived and is milling about along with those involved in meal preparation. A large bowl of traditional hot chocolate is placed before each of us, together with two loaves of bread, one small and the other the size of a regular unsliced rye. This is pan de yema, a type of egg bread, similar to challah, the bread that accompanies many Jewish celebrations and Friday night dinner.

Pan de yema is a Oaxacan tradition, served at many rite of passage fiestas as well as for yearly celebrations such as Day of The Dead, when it’s known as Pan de Muertos. Many villages are known for the distinctiveness of their bread, some baked with cinnamon, others anise, and so on. Hot chocolate, a customary beverage in the state, is almost always accompanied by the challah-like bread. Oaxaca is known for its chocolate, made in small mills in virtually all towns and villages. Oaxacan chocolate is made from toasted cacao beans, sugar, usually a bit of cinnamon stick, and at times a small quantity of almonds. Many Oaxacans have their own recipes of stipulated percentages of ingredients, and so instruct the mill operator. Witnessing the simplicity of production is fascinating, and as a non-native Oaxacan, having one’s own chocolate made, even more so.

Barbacoa de chivo (goat, baked the traditional way in an in-ground oven) in a broth with vegetables arrives in deep ceramic soup bowls, along with tortillas and platesful of chopped onion, cilantro, cabbage, fresh chili and radish. “The radish will give you twice as much stamina,” I’m assured, to the amusement of all. More mezcal follows, this time pursuant to statewide custom because of its tendency to cut the grease of barbacoa, whether goat, sheep or beef.

Raw chopped vegetables and greens are traditionally served alongside barbacoa, enabling you to control level of spice and type of flavor, on your own. Another typical Oaxacan dish, pozole, is similarly served with accompaniments on the side, in this case including small dishes of chopped dried oregano and chili powder.

While we’re seated a teenage girl distributes clear plastic bags for carrying home the leftover bread. Some have eaten not a bite, while others have broken off chunks to use as dippers in the chocolate. None, however, comes close to putting a dent in all that has been given. We get up, and the next shift, including band members, takes its turn.

“Who decides who gets to eat first?,” I inquire, needing to know that I did not take someone else’s place. Hilarino enlightens:

“Everyone knows. That’s just the way it is. Those who stay sitting down near the band are aware that their turn will come later on, and that we eat before them.”

I am anxious to compare notes with Arlene about our respective comidas, so Hilarino agrees to drive us back to his house in an old pick-up. Arlene was sitting with eight women and children in a tiny dark living-room jam-packed with sofas and an entertainment unit crammed with electronic equipment … eating peanuts, drinking tequila, and watching Bambi II … for the second time. All unfolds while Alma, whose infant had died some eight months earlier, watches her 40-something-year-old mother nursing her own newborn.

Arlene whispers: “I’m starving. They didn’t feed us anything except this. It’s already three o’clock. We’re supposed to be waiting for the procession to arrive, and then we’ll all be going to the fiesta for comida.”

“Well I’m stuffed, and the barbacoa was great,” I respond, to her mild disgust.

“Have some of this bread. It was great with the hot chocolate,” I continue to tease.

We wait, and we wait, until I get bored with Bambi. To pass the time I go out to son Daniel’s adjoining pool hall to play snooker with him and a couple of friends:

“I just opened the place a couple of months ago. There’s nothing in town for kids to do at night except drink and have sex, so I figured that with a pool table, card games and dominos, and pizza and other snacks, it would be a winner.”

I would later learn to better appreciate Daniel’s motivation.

At long last fireworks resume, signaling that the procession is once again departing. We hear the band starting up far off in the distance. The procession has finally begun to retrace its tracks, heading back to the couple’s homestead, its outer fence now draped with white ribbon and floral bouquets. Earlier in the day we had noted two other homes duly decorated with white banners and streamers. We had been told that those residences were to be the focus of later festivities, but uncertain as to when and why.

We walk to the newlyweds’ home to await their arrival. The fiesta will take place in an open, dirt floor courtyard facing the village’s main street. Tables are set, adorned with flower arrangements. Smoke billows from the two, rudimentary in-ground ovens. Women are busy coming and going to and from two close-by buildings sheltering food and storing stacks of ceramic dishes and pails of plastic spoons. I spot another palenquero I’ve known for a few years, already mildly inebriated, sitting at a table holding court with his friends. But familiarity breeds comfort, so we join them, and there we continue to drink, more beer and more mezcal. At this household the latter is not of particularly good quality, so after downing a small plastic cupful I stick to seconds of the former. “How do you know the gringos?,” I overhear. I pipe up with the answer, correcting that we’re Canadian.

In Oaxaca most use the word “gringo” in a non-derogatory way when referring to or addressing Americans, yet are usually sensitive to its common connotation. While always setting the record straight, I make it clear that I know that no offence is intended and none is taken, and that I simply want all to be aware that we’re Canadians, and not gringos.

The procession arrives just as I’m finishing another hot chocolate (Arlene, her first), and contemplating what to do with four additional loaves of bread, two for each of us. This time all are super-sized. Once again I hear the ripping off the roll of plastic bags.

But the band and revelers pass right by the house. We hurriedly join in, stopping a block down the road to bring back baptismal godparents Daniel and Alma and everyone else still at their home. By now the pyrotechnics have become continuous and the music is at a feverous pitch. Some 50 well-wishers arrive back at the party. Slowly another 100 or so arrive and seat themselves. A rose bush is placed on each table, two on ours pursuant to the instruction of Sara: “You’ll take this one, so don’t forget. I’ll take the other, and someone else can take home the centerpiece.”

Hot chocolate No. Three is placed before me, along with two more loaves and a bag. And then more beer, followed by mezcal yet again, foreshadowing another heavy comida for me, and the first, at long last, for Arlene.

Mezcal in the pueblos is served from either a multi-liter plastic gasoline container (purchased new for selling and transporting the spirit), or a 2.5 liter plastic coke bottle. Purists, upon arriving home after purchasing in such receptacles immediately transfer their liquor into glass, the fear being that leaving it in plastic may taint the subtle nuances.

Barbacoa de res (beef) arrives, similar in presentation and with the same cut-up legumes and leafy herb as I had enjoyed only three hours earlier. But it’s not often one gets to indulge in such proportion. The band continues, the number of musicians somehow having grown to 10.

Bands are an extremely important part of Oaxacan society, cultures and the multitude of micro sub-cultures. Musicians are highly respected because of not only their training and talent, but because of what they offer the community: familiar tunes; an opportunity to dance ranchera, cumbia, danzon and the pinotepa; and more generally a medium for advancing the celebration.

Towards the end of the comida, Tupperware-style containers are distributed to everyone, marked “Recuerdo de nuestra boda, E y G, 27/11/08” (Souvenir of our wedding, etc.). In goes the leftover beef and broth. We decline to take home tortillas. We’re then showered with an array of gifts commemorating the baptism, each personalized with particulars of the event: a wooden basket containing suckers and other assorted sweets, adorned with pink ribbon and a small pink baby doll; a plastic bowl; a frilly, pink cotton doll blanket; children’s birthday loot bags. Everyone packs up his bounty. I walk back to our vehicle to stow away umpteen bags and containers, as well as the rose bush. I return with our wedding gift, placing it in a designated room.

Very few gifts at rural Oaxacan functions arrive in a wrapped box or gift bag with card affixed. Instead they are fashioned so that all in attendance will know who is giving what. The present, be it a set of dishes or mugs, a blender, clothing, linens or even a lamp, is taped or glued to a piece of decorated particle board, then shrink wrapped with cellophane. The gift can then be proudly paraded in front of everyone as it’s put in its proper place. Hence, often guests do not even include a card. Of course this makes it difficult for the recipient to know who gave what, unless he or she has a keen memory. But there are no worries, since thank you’s are not the norm, and sending a note of appreciation is unheard of.

Tables are quickly cleared. When they’re then folded, it signals that guests had better stand up. At the same time an 11-tier wedding cake is being assembled, along with a somewhat more modest cake in honor of the baptism. At first the taking down and setting up all seems rather incongruous, but only until the band takes to the street and guests follow behind, once again signaled by the commencement of fireworks.

By now it’s nightfall. We’re clearly a spectacle as we march through the town’s main thoroughfare, picking up more celebrants as we proceed, turning onto a dark dirt road, and then into an alleyway, followed by a right, continuing up a steep dusty gradient, and finally some 20 minutes later arriving at the home of the bride’s godparents from her own baptism. Tradition dictates that on the occasion of her wedding, they present her and the

groom, in the presence of the throngs, with a large wooden wardrobe. But not before prayer and advice. All the while the band’s tempo picks up and dancing begins on a large makeshift patio.

“Don’t you remember me?,” I’m asked by a young girl toting a four-year-old. “I used to work for Sara in the comedor, but now I can’t because I have to take my son to school every day. I’m already 21. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” She appears closer to 16, slight, short and moderately attractive, clearly pretty enough to attract the attention of a local suitor. “I live with my parents and sister.”

The bride, groom, her godparents and other honored guests emerge from the well-wishing, together with four men holding up the white ribbon adorned wardrobe, and yes, dancing with it. We’re showered with candies. More beer. I accept, only reluctantly since it’s getting late and the thought of the drive back to Oaxaca begins to weigh on my mind. Next time perhaps I’ll opt for the bottled fruit drink being offered. If it’s good enough for young mothers to feed their infant children, then maybe it’s okay for me.

An older man passes out unfiltered cigarettes, in singles, from a plate: “It’s a tradition, so take one.” I comply, and get a light. More mezcal, this time much smoother. I decide that soft drinks can wait until a little later. The band continues, as do the four friends dancing with the closet. It looks heavy to me, but they persevere for perhaps 15 minutes. The merriment builds. Bags of goodies are distributed to the extraordinary number of young children, most supervised by teenaged moms.

The band leaves its designated playing area, and begins to trace its steps. The wardrobe follows, along with the rest of us. We stop at the bottom of a hill for more deliberate and formal dancing. Then at the residence of the bride’s godparents of her confirmation, tradition once again prevails: more drink, more candies, more cigarettes (this time filtered), and more milling about, but this time in a large, poured concrete floor courtyard of a relatively lavish looking home. And of course dance. These hosts are required to present the couple with a metate, the large grinding stone used for hand-milling corn for tortillas and tamales.

The metate remains a common and highly appreciated gift for special occasions, at least in towns and villages. It’s usually painted with brightly colored flowers along the sides, with a dedication such as “Souvenir of my wedding” followed by the year, or other wording appropriate to the occasion. At all weekly town marketplaces there’s at least one metate vendor, and at the large Abastos Market in downtown Oaxaca there are several metate stalls. Metates were traditionally as important to a Oaxacan family as a car for most Americans and Canadians today. Even though blenders are now a more common wedding gift, the tradition of gifting a metate in this and other villages remains well entrenched. And why not … its use probably dates back some 3,000 years, albeit in simpler form.

A man is dancing with the 135-pound metate strung across his back. A woman is parading a large galvanized aluminum wash basin, another gift. Someone else is entrusted with carrying a huge clay cooking vessel with a petate (palm leaf mat) rolled up inside. About 40 others are dancing, accompanying those who are presenting these additional gifts.

Now more under the influence than before, our third palenquero acquaintance takes me over to his wife for a chat. His daughter is also present, clutching her infant son.

“Our son’s getting married December 29, and we want you to come, so I’m going to give you a special invitation the next time you’re at my palenque.”

It’s common for people to give last-minute or unexpected invitations to rite of passage celebrations in both rural and urban Oaxaca, even, perhaps surprisingly, for the middle classes. Especially in the villages, extra tables are set up if necessary to accommodate additional guests, and there’s always an abundance of food and drink on hand. It’s a custom with which most North Americans are not familiar, and when confronted with such an 11^th hour offer or request to attend, we usually feel insulted or at minimum a little uncomfortable. But the intention is generally to honor and show respect and friendship.

We are now back on the street, once again with music, dance, fireworks, and upwards of 300 in the procession, having picked up invitees from the last two stops, and undoubtedly others along the way. The furniture-foursome continues, joined by metate-man and others, strolling with the most recent gifts.

We finally arrive back at the party site. The band repositions itself off to a corner. But now, with the last of the endowments having arrived, it’s time to take notice of the riches being heaped upon Gladis, Eli and Lexy. All presents are brought out, and each is given to a different person, to rejoice and dance with above the head. A spectacle of potlatch proportion ensues, with baskets, dishes, small appliances and every other class of gift hoisted to the starlit sky and spun around as the band plays on. Those not directly participating clap in unison.

Many are in the street, oblivious to the odd passing vehicle. Children are playing, men and women imbibing. A municipal police pick-up stops out front. The mayor goes over for a chat. All is under control.

Oaxacans returning from the United States to their rural Mexican roots, in the course of expressing their reasons for coming back home, frequently comment about the excessive regulation and control exercised by the American government over its residents:

“Why shouldn’t I be able to have a beer in the street out in front of my home as long as I’m not drunk?”

“Why can’t I keep the music turned up until midnight if I have a party only once a year?”

“If I can’t afford to keep my car’s catalytic converter functioning well, it’s not fair to pull my vehicle off the road.”

The bride and groom are getting more advice, and providing all assurances that they will be faithful and remain together, be good Catholics and lead forthright honest lives, always supporting one another. A conjunto, the more contemporary musical group with amplifiers, electric guitars, singer and MC, is setting up just as the band packs up. It’s after 9 pm. Chatter continues, now about the upcoming waltz, la culebra (snake dance), toast, and other traditions. Many comment that they’re ready for dessert. Dancing with a live turkey is not a custom in this village as it is in many others.

A young girl approaches, yet another former employee of our friend Sara of roadside eatery fame. She’s 20, with a two-year-old. But she’s holding her 15-year-old sister’s three-month-old. Her sister also has a two-year-old:

“So she had her first at thirteen?”

“Yes, I guess that’s right.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I don’t like boys, and I don’t think they like me now.”

“My parents are very strict. They never want us going out with boys, so we have to sneak around.”

“But don’t you see how it hasn’t worked? Look at your sister now.”

She looks confused. She doesn’t get it. In a flash the wisdom of Daniel’s one room billiard parlor strikes home. Giving young people something to do might just have an impact on the youth of his village.

There are class distinctions in the village of San Lorenzo Albarradas. But fiestas seem to transcend economic distinctions in terms of the guest list, at least for the middle and lower classes. Those with barely a skill set are noteworthy: the youngsters getting pregnant at 13, working for Sara for perhaps $6 – $8 a day, appearing to be going nowhere, and barely subsisting. Then there are Hilarino and Sara, and Santos and Lupita, with drive and motivation. Their children, while having families when relatively young as compared to current North American trend, aspire to be in long-term monogamous relationships, learn trades and attend higher education. They aim towards a future, while others seem to not. It’s perhaps never even entered the realm of their worldview.

But neither San Lorenzo nor San Isidro has a school beyond junior high. There is no preparatoria (high school) in the area. The closest are in the towns of Mitla and Tlacolula. It costs approximately $20 a week to get there and back by public transit, money that most don’t have. And if a family does send a son or daughter to high school, apart from the cost of doing so, there’s one less income earner in the household.

Arlene is whisked away to the waltz, forming a ring with young women and female children, arm in arm, while Gladis and Eli begin to dance. They hadn’t taken dance lessons. The circle moves ever so slowly to the right. Arlene catches on pretty quickly. The MC begins to call out names of guests to be honored by being invited to dance with bride or groom. Every other surname called out is Martínez.

A half hour goes by, with more drink, talk and laughter. Daniel asks me to participate in the long awaited snake dance. He instructs me to remove my glasses. I initially decline, but then recall from prior experience what it entails, so off they come. The bride and groom each stand on a chair about three yards apart, Eli holding onto the end of Gladis’ train. I and four other men grab onto the bride’s chair, holding it firmly, while another group does likewise with the groom’s. Women begin circling around the main attraction in the center, bumping into us and trying to topple us over, and consequently the bride and groom from their chairs. As the pace of the music picks up, likewise the movement of the snake … the women circling. So does the fervor in trying to knock us over. It’s a draw. Next the men do the same, but the bumps and grinds are more deliberate and severe. We are firm in our resolve to protect Gladis by ensuring that our feet remain firmly planted on the ground and our hands are not dislodged from her chair. Those hanging onto Eli are similarly steadfast. The second snake slithers away as the music dissipates, both newlyweds still standing.

By now, Hilarino and Sara have left for home to put their other son, a two-year-old, to bed. The village’s main street remains alive with drinking, coming and going, and of course sporadic bottle rockets going off. The conjunto is now playing in full swing as the next ritual unfolds. The groom, suit jacket removed, is being ushered around the courtyard by Daniel, so as to enable guests to write a congratulatory note on the back of his shirt, and then affix a peso bill to it with a safety pin. At the other end, Alma is similarly assisting Gladis. Gladis is approaching guests with a crystal slipper, inviting each to fill it with coins or bills. Alma, trailing, periodically empties the slipper’s contents into a decorative wooden box.

The expense involved in throwing a wedding in Oaxaca can be significant, and while most cannot afford much of the pomp and ceremony involved, they nevertheless pull it off. It’s tradition. There’s a saying that most people in Oaxaca have two jobs, one to meet their normal day to day expenses, and the other to fulfill their social obligations. Asking for direct contributions assists in defraying the cost. Honoring specific friends and relatives by asking them to be godparents of a particular aspect of the function further reduces the outlay; godparents of the music, the cake, the wedding rings, and so on.

It’s now 10:30, and it’s a long drive home over dark winding roads. Gladis and Eli continue to solicit contributions. Cider has been distributed in small plastic cups in anticipation of the toast, but no one knows when it will occur. And still to come are the cutting of the cake, the bride or groom having his or her face smashed into it, and other longstanding traditions, not to mention dancing to familiar song … sure to continue throughout the night.

To a person, our friends and acquaintances are shocked at our “premature” departure, Daniel ready to burst into tears, Alma pouting. Weeks earlier we had indeed spoken about spending the night and sleeping over, but not without qualification. I do a quick calculation of the number of drinks I have had over the past 10 ½ hours, to assure myself, and Arlene, that we’ll be safe for the drive home. I had been conscious of my intake all day and evening long, for that very reason.

A week later I see Alma at her mother-in-law’s comedor. She is clearly still disappointed, as well as angry. Many partied until six in the morning. Others closer to our age called it a night at about two or three. But there’s always an opportunity for us to redeem ourselves, perhaps at the next wedding in a month’s time, now that we are much better acquainted with the customs and traditions of San Lorenzo Albarradas.

Alvin Starkman has a masters in social anthropology from York University and a law degree from Osgoode Hall Law School. From 1986 to 2004 he was a Toronto litigator specializing in family law. Alvin now resides in Oaxaca where he runs a small bed and breakfast, Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast (http://www.oaxacadream.com), writes about life and cultural traditions in the central valleys of Oaxaca, and leads personalized tours to the ruins, craft villages, market towns and other sights.

front photo provided by vb_lady at http://www.flickr.com/photos/victoriaandchad/2823609404/

photo 1 provided by sauloruiz at http://www.flickr.com/photos/elsaulo/2735823677/

photo 2 provided by llhuicamina at http://www.flickr.com/photos/ilhuicamina/2561974398/

photo 3 provided by waywuwie at http://www.flickr.com/photos/waywuwei/123397519/

photo 4 provided by HD CMI at http://www.flickr.com/photos/moctezumah/2476929053/

photo 5 provided by edwinguerra at http://www.flickr.com/photos/edwinguerra/43871767/

photo 6 provided by horash perzabal at http://www.flickr.com/photos/el_horash/3010697795/

photo 7 provided by llhuicamina at http://www.flickr.com/photos/ilhuicamina/342228710