Five of us piled into the van for an early start: we wanted to visit the famous market at Etla and then head into the mountains to see what we could see. Etla is very close to San Jose Mogote, the Zapotec capital that preceded Monte Alban; it is probably no coincidence that the people we saw in Etla were ‘more’ Zapotec than anywhere we had seen. Let’s just say that Sue towered over most of the women, who must have averaged about 4’8″. Here are a few shots from the market without too much commentary.
This gives new meaning to the term curtain wall construction.
We think Vivi and Ingrid would have liked the market, and perhaps especially the various sweet breads!
Although they certainly would have liked this better! Who needs hand cranked ice cream when you have granddaughters to help!
This was the most popular barbacoa stand. The Oaxacan version features pork wrapped in avocado leaves and smoke-roasted over a pot of water and vegetables. The meat and chili juices drain into the soup, and you wind up with two dishes: a spicy vegetable soup and incredibly succulent smoky meat.
Patti, always the bravest of us, tried a cup of Atole, the corn based drink common to all the mesoamerican cultures. I tried a sip…just so I could say I had.
The market sits just below a beautiful church with a large parish close and a gorgeous cloister.
Although I had been told that there wasn’t much to see at San Jose Mogote, the others indulged me the 15 minute drive. And, sure enough, there was almost nothing left–a few walls and foundations–of the first real town in the Oaxacan valleys, a place that rose to about 1000 inhabitants around 500 BC and was then overtaken by Monte Alban.
We then headed steeply uphill, putting ourselves in the hands of our driver Manriquez, whose encyclopedic knowledge of the region was increasingly impressive. High above the valley, we arrived at the village of San Agustin and a remarkable little factory that produced hand made paper for artists. It turned out that Patti and David had visited almost 20 years ago and loved it, but had never been able to find it again.
As it turns out, the factory, like much else in San Agustin, is the product of the imagination of the Mexican artist Francisco Toledo. Here is a link to a good deal of information on the factory.
https://www.craftinamerica.org/artist/taller-arte-papel-oaxaca
The complex sits above a rushing river in what is essentially a jungle.
This is the sales room.
We were treated to an overview of the local fibers that go into their paper.
you name it, and they will make paper out of it.
And to a tour of the factory itself.
we purchased a few things for various someones, but I wouldn’t want to give away anything here.
As we drove upward through the village, we noticed that it was unusually prosperous, with many stunning modern houses. We soon learned why. At the top of the hill sits a an unusual white stuccoed church.
To the right of the church begins a large complex of buildings that had been abandoned and fallen into disrepair. With help from the state of Oaxaca, the important artist and activist Francisco Toledo had acquired the complex consisting of an abandoned palace and thread factory and turned them into exhibition spaces, performance spaces, and workshops for artists. San Agustin, with its splendid natural setting and newfound artistic potential, became a mecca for international visitors, many of whom purchased homes in the vicinity.
To the right of the church stands an ancient tree, almost as large as the famous one at El Tule.
The artists complex extends up to the hill and to the right
You soon come to the abandoned thread factory, the main building of the complex.
The upper floor is a vast and very beautiful performance space.
The main floor is a large exhibition hall. The current exhibition is called “Seamus Heaney and Jan Hendrix at Yagul.” Both the Irish poet and the Dutch artist were inspired by the remarkable landscape around Yagul, a major Zapotec site (for which see tomorrow’s post). Here’s a link for more information about this incredible da exhibition.
https://thelondonmagazine.org/seamus-heaney-jan-hendrix-shared-landscape-inspiration/
I wish we had had time to explore this terrific exhibition, but we were conscious that Vladimir and Sasha had stayed behind in Oaxaca. We emerged from the factory to find this impressive formal facade!
The factory terrace has lovely views back over the complex and far down into the valley.
Back in town, we made a quick run to the Benito Juarez Market to pick up a few last gifts, and then went several ways: David had a board meeting, and he and Patti retreated to the hotel. Connie and Sue also went back to drop their packages while Vladimir and Mike spent a pleasant few minutes watching the world go by in the Zocalo.
No one had had any lunch, unless you count munching on a big bag of bread from the Etla market, so the B’s and the J’s had a quick bite at one of the cafes along the Zocalo; the view from the second floor terrace is great!
Sue and I then took a loop through the center, headed for the Centro Fotografico Alvarez Bravo. The museum is housed in a beautiful colonial mansion, with the exhibition spaces arrayed around a courtyard.
There were three really interesting exhibitions. The largest contained work by the Catalan photographer Marcel Luis, who used the presence of devil figures in many rituals and festivals in Oaxaca states a context for portraiture.
The Mexican photographer Tomas Casademunt showed a number of views of the great volcano Popocatépetl near Mexico City; he used a number of older photographic techniques to bring out various aspects of volcanic activity.
The light was unusually beautiful as we walked toward Santo Domingo.
Down along the Alcala, the pedestrian street that connects Santo Domingo and the Zocalo, the Angeles workshop has a gallery called Voices de Copal (Voices of Copa; Copal is the local wood used in all the carvings). There was a special exhibit of Angeles monkeys, including a few in positions I can’t include here because of our grandchildren!
We had wanted to continue our tradition of having a drink at the Quinta Real, the classiest hotel in town, housed in an extraordinary former convent. But the first real rain we’d seen scotched that plan. Luckily, Patti had spent the afternoon instructing the bartender on the making of a proper margarita. So we indulged ourselves in margaritas Patricia…can’t be beat!
The rain let up enough so that we could walk rather than swim to Casa Oaxaca, our restaurant for the night; modern Oaxaca cuisine started here, and we had eaten a memorable meal the year before. Even though it was a bit damp, we ate under a sail on the terrace overlooking Santo Domingo. David and I reprised our Remedios, a mezcal drink drowning in fresh herbs that had restored my health last year. They were so good that three more peopled ordered them.
The meal was so good that we all agreed it would be very tough to say which of the three was best. Sue and I shared pork tacos; she had beef cheeks in a light mole, while I had roast suckling pig in a richer mole. What a restaurant scene in Oaxaca!