“Once there was a way to get back homeward…”

Finally back in Oaxaca after two very intense weeks. I am glad to be back. I missed dinners with Leti, my host mom and Daphne and I´s little casita out back.

Last week we split up into three groups and went to live in different villages in and around Oaxaca state. I went to a pueblo called Miguel Hidalgo, a village of just a few families outside of the larger village of Chicahuaxtla. We stayed there in homestays with Triqui familes. Triqui is the predominant indigenous group in the area. It was kindof like Boma revisited. Squat toilets, no running water other then a spigot 20 metres from the house, cooking over a fire in a smoky room, fleas….That´s right I have fleas. This village stay, as fun as it was, was also very difficult and controversial. We lived in a small wooden house with cracks between the planks through which the frigid artic winds would blow. We slept on beds composed exlusively of four legs and several wooden planks wearing every article of clothing we own, including mittens, smart wool, knit hats and my air india blanket wrapped around my head. And we still froze nearly to death every night. The problem however, is that the experience stays with me even now. **vigorously scratches clusters of flea bites on legs arms and butt** I´m pretty much wearing a flea bite bikini right now. Here´s the problem. The farm we lived on also had lots of turkeys, baby turkeys, goats, baby goats, donkeys, chickens, dogs, and the infamous pile of puppies up the road. Andrew, who not only decided to manually assist a constipated dog was intsistent on holding every flea-ridden animal he came across. Not just a humanitarian. We think this is the way fleas were acquired initially and then spread to every one else livng in that house. It is also possible that we also have bed bugs. We aren`t sure. So all the clothes are being sent to the laundry tomorrow morning, as today is Easter, and all is closed.

So enough about fleas. The people in the village were wonderful to talk to, those that spoke spanish, although we often did triple translation from Triqui to spanish to english. I lived with a family of six and ate all my meals with them, which mostly consisted of HUGE corn tortillas and soup with a tomatoe/chile base and egg. Not bad the first night but the fourth and fifth after a bout of diarrhea, possibly a causa de some rogue onions, I revolted at the sight of this stuff. The families were really wonderful but the controversy of this trip came from our coordinator Hector, who openly admitted to us that he didnt know if he wanted to bring groups into the village anymore, and that the only real benefit to the village of our presence was economic and that there was no possibility for valuable culture exchange. He persistently seemed really unhappy to be with us and on the last day when we parted, he got out of the van without saying goodbye or even looking back. We were all really really disturbed by this. We´ve never been taken some place where we didn´t feel welcome before. He had not put together any sort of program for us. We got dumped off in this village, knowing nothing about it and then he asks us, so what do you want to learn? We have no idea! We don´t even know where we are! Then to find out that the only purpose for our presence was to benefit the community economically? We are just here to be fed and given a place to sleep and watch these people like they are in a fish bowl? That wasn´t why I came. Jessica said it best. That our westerness can taint them but heir indigenousness can save us? I learned a lot from the people there, and I thought it could have been an opportunity for them to see that not all Gringos in the world are trying to colonize them and show them a “better” way of living. That we are interested in alternative ways of living. But I guess in Hector´s eyes that is useless. I didn´t get this sentiment so much from the families or the community, so we kindof had to make the week useful for ourselves, and in many ways it was an incredible experience.

We also went to a traditional healer in Tlaxiaco. He did different readings using various media to tell you about your body, your future etc. We all had a pretty unusual experience. I had my egg read and my candal read and I got the worst 5 minute massage of my life. This lady leads me into a room, tells me to take off all my clothes and then rubs me down vigorously with motor oil. Then while I`m still in there she ushers in another women and proceeds to give her the same treatment while I lay there like a greasy pig under a sheat. Then my candal reading told me my two spiritual “animals”. I am a tornado and a lion. I have a noble heart but am prone to bouts of anger and sadness that come on quickly and strongly but then die down. I also have humidity in my womb, whatever that means. Strange because I HATE tornadoes. My egg told me that I have an inflammation in my uterus and one ovary that if not treated could make me infertile….great. Doctor Kapil, I`ll be seeing you soon. This may all be bull but it kinda weirded me out.

Eh. I haven´t even talked about the rest of Guatemala. All I really need to say is want to live there forever. Most beautiful, dynamic place I´ve ever been. We spent three days hanging out with the fam in guate city which was really nice, and then we went to Lake Atitlan and ended up spending 3 days in, San Pedro, a place not so different from Paradise Beach in India, only this place had a lot of locals. The lake was indescribably beautiful. Lot of time laying in hammocks and sitting by the water watching the mayan ladies clean their clothes. Me Noah and Elizabeth got back to Oaxaca with no problems but Zeno and Andy decided to stay later. I don´t know all the details yet, but apparently they couldnt get across the border cuz the border patrol thought they were drunk, they missed the bus, slept in the bus station, and eventually Andy got on a bus for his village stay leaving Zeno to fend for himself, who lost his bum bag, had no money and no idea where to go. Ended up giving his camera as collateral for a phone call to his mom and a hundred pesos to get a bus to Oaxaca. Yet with no idea where his homestay was he circled Oaxaca for 2 hours, racking up a 600 peso taxi ride and then hopped the fence to his homestay where the police thought he was breaking in, held him at gunpoint till his host mom came out. He then slept for about 20 hours and then took a taxi for 5 hours to his field trip in Yavesia. No bumbag, no camera, he gets there and buys 10 beers and drinks them with kids by the side of the river. An entirely innapropriate activity in a town where you arent permited to drink in public. Man did I miss him. He bought me a beautiful armadillo in Yavesia. Alright. The End.

Amor,

Andie G