Daily Life In Oaxaca

The friends in the congregation wanted to start a Only in Oaxaca... list. I´ve only heard one so far but it´s adequate. Only in Oaxaca do they paint the road lanes over a dead dog! And sadly, yes that is true. We have wild dogs that travel in packs. Ribs showing, fly infested, badly healed wounds. It´s such a sad state. But the locals here think nothing of it. Quite the contrast to what was featured in the SkyMall magazine on our way here, doggy padding for the back of your SUV, doggy steps so the little mut can easily reach the side of the bed, etc.

Graffiti. Most puzzling. Graffiti can be a fantastic artistic outlet. Some even to be admired, but here? It appears as if someone just ran down the street with a spray can. Most unoriginal! No pictures, no nearly unlegible font, no pictures, no Juan ama a Juanita, just squiggles. Truly disappointing. Worse, the city does nothing to prevent it nor clean it. Every wall, every door has its own squiggle of spray paint.

Mexican music. Our personal favorites. You know the kind, trumpety, horns, clown music. Whenever I hear this clown music I´m half expecting that at any moment the Mexicans are going to break into a juggling and tumbling routine! I suspect that they see us coming and go about their normal business and as soon as we´re out of sight the circus act resumes! Much like our toys use to do when we walked out of our bedrooms and closed the door. If you turned quickly trying to catch them you thought for sure you saw movement! Clearly the most iritating aspect of Mexico is the trumpet clown music.

Autobuses! Hailing a bus is really a quite simple motion. Extend your arm, raise your index finger and that should indicate the approaching bus is the one you want. However, this simple motion is often misinterpreted. As the bus soar pass you, you have to ask yourself if you´re being discriminated against. Is it because you´re white?! I mean, how many meanings does ¨hey stop I´m waving my entire arm at you- not in an amicable way¨ But alas...we have to wait longer.

Another nice aspect of public transportation is the vendors. Riding for free of course. As they get on board they begin shouting the marvel of the pens they offer. These are no regular pens. You can´t live without these pens! Men boarding with their guitars in hand, singing, playing. None of any talent. Less the one today, two men, one with guitar one with a panflute. They played the tune to the forbidden dance. After which, they offered to sell their CD instead of soliciting money. Brandon made a donation anyway.

My favorite side effect of the buses are the soot filled snot that results. I wish there were a better term but it fails me now. Snot is the most approriate to describe what is produced from your nostrils. Filthy, black. It´s a wonder these people´s noses aren´t falling off from cancer of the nose! The pollution, beyond horrible. There are no emission regulations. I think they believe the more black fumes your car emits the faster it must be going! Perhaps I can furnish a picture soon of the clouds following these buses.