Gobs of Gobs and the Suspended Wave

Bugs are a part of life. But what on earth was the mosquito created for anyway?
We ran out of water. Water for washing dishes and showering and flushing. Not drinking water. It was only noon, but luckily we weren't going to be spending most of the day at the house anyway, and could turn the well pump on when we got back in the evening. Fortunate for us we had already showered and washed dishes. The journey to check the water level is not one for the faint of heart. The ascent begins by going through the door of the loft to the roof deck. Then one must balance on a 5 inch thick wall and jump up to grab the slanted roof. Shimmey up onto his (I elect not to do this) stomach and then step up and walk up the slant to the tank. From there its cake...until you have to come back down. Aye aye aye. We downloaded pictures, charged the camera battery, blogged, and got ready for our first venture into the city alone - To the Guelagetza. It's a short walk up the dirt road to the bus stop. We barely stopped before the bus did too. We hopped up as the bus began driving once again. Everyone here is nicer than nice, but it must not be custom to wait for your patrons to be seated or even secure footed before pressing onward. Zach payed for our ride. 4.5 pesos each. Riding on a bus is not as frightening as riding in a car. In fact, the bus is quite comfortable, once you are seated at least. The nice man in front of us told Zach where the best place to hop off (literally) would be. But first we stopped for more passengers who were also headed in the direction of the "Central" and also dropped a few off. The driver wanted a snack too, so we stopped in front of some sort of stand and the guy riding the door purchased a sandwhich sized bag of some sort of treat. Latisha had let me try this one out before the family left, so I recognized it. It starts out as a bulbous root, fat like a big onion, but colored like a potato, and with a single tap root looking thing. It is peeled to reveal a hard white interior, a texture mixed between an apple and an uncooked potato. It is pretty bland, but there is a special spice (kind of like Tony's) that is sprinkled all over it - giving it a nice blood red color. It is eaten in little strips like french fries. I must have had an odd look on my face when the bus driver purchased this, because he offered me a taste. I was kind of embarassed to have been starring, so I declined, as politely and un-flustered-ly as I could. Not a long while later Zach nudged me to get out of my seat and hurried me to the back of the bus. (fully in motion mind you) I pushed the button, but not until I was hanging on tightly. And the bus came to an abrupt halt, the door at the back opened and Zach said hurry, jump off. His feet had barely left the bus before it was 10 meters down the road. We walked back a short ways and crossed the street, headed down a cobble stone road/path towards the soccer stadium. Right off the main highway there was a little oasis. A pond with a grassy bank on one end, and back up to a 60-70 foot rock wall on the other. Our walk took us past a little playground, more shops and food stands, and then to the stadium. We had seats in section B3. As we came through the security check we were handed two straw cowboy hats with "Guelagetza 2010" on them. We were then given pretty cool T-Shirts, and pointed in the direction of our seats. We opted for seats a few rows back between a nice couple on my side and two women on Zach's side. We were only 45 minutes early this time, and saw a woman sing about Tuxtapec, and a band (with first-grade trainees) play. Then it was time for the dancing to begin. This time of year is kind of like a 4th of July, but lasts for a few weeks. There are different festivals and parties and things that happen each day from what I understand. It is a big tourist time. While we were sitting waiting for the show we saw two couples who were on our plane from Mexico City to Oaxaca. It's a small world. The show was to consist of 13 dances representing 13 cultures/cities/regions in the state of Oaxaca. Each had different costumes and different songs. It was really neat to experience such a cultural thing. I can't relate it really to anything in the United States. A little more than mid way through all of the performances the National Song of Oaxaca played, and everyone waved their hats and sang along. At first we didn't realize what was happening, but everyone had their hats in the air so we figured we should do the same. The gentleman sitting next to me leaned over and said "This is the national song." We were glad to join in.

Here are a few pictures:







When you think about it there are a few things that are common in the global community: family, music, pizza and The Wave. It was after the 6th inning (of 13 dance groups) that the section that held the general public became restless. During the exhaustive performance of one region's traditional wedding ceremony, the public decided it was time for something more rousing and participatory. It began in the section directly behind us and went the full length of the semicircle. One cultural additive was the applause made from the sections where the wave had past. It went back and forth for some 10 minutes drawing much attention from the field-level crowd, but regardless, the ceremony went on and on. Finally a deep voice came from heaven to address the swirling masses interrupting the narrator of the eternal wedding ceremony; the voice asked that all present act with a kindness and dignity that the Guelaguetza deserves and that they furthermore "suspender la ola." (Suspend the Wave). How classic.
As there were many powerful and fun dances bursting with color, rhythm and the thrust of the big band, I began to notice another theme. In many of the dances the dancer would carry something in one hand while they danced, many of these things being items associated with their specific region. Some would have tobacco, others pots, woven items, baskets of this and that, but little did I know that Oaxaca is the land of the guajolotes (gwa-ho-low-te). There was a quorum of dancers strutting their stuff with a live turkey in tow; some dances had two turks. Unbelievable, but quite entertaining.
The night flew on and some groups would tell jokes and I would understanding the opening lines and have no clue as to the punchline. The night ended with a spectacular fireworks display that lasted over 10 minutes. As they were dismissing certain sections to leave, I noticed that many of the dancers had come back on stage during the fireworks show and that some people from the audience were joining them, so I grabbed Kimb's hand and we climbed up on stage. I was able to take pictures of Kimberly with some of the different individuals, unfortunately no one with a turkey was out on stage.
We made our way out of the stadium, and found a taco stand across from the church. Having replenished our vitamen T, we found a taxi and made our way home. Kimberly got to sit in the backseat with two strangers while I got to share the front passenger seat with another guy. The driver seemed comfortable enough in his own seat by himself, just him. We made it home just before midnight and had successfully navigated our first day solos in Oaxaca.