I arrived in Oaxaca on Thursday evening and have settled into my digs for the next four months. I am staying at the comfortable Posada de los Angeles. It is an eight-bedroom inn near the Zocalo and close to the Instituto Cultural Oaxaca (ICO), where I’ll be taking classes.
The ICO recommends that visitors take it easy the first few days in adjusting to the altitude (5000 feet) and food–among the overall cultural differences. This is the reason why I elected to have a canasta de galletas (basket of cookies, though it was on a plate and not in a basket) and a cafe con leche (coffee with milk) for dinner on Friday night.
Sitting at the Italian Coffee Company (the equivalent of Starbucks and nearly as ubiquitous), I was watching (and listening) as an old caballero (cowboy) played saxophone under the trees decked out for the Independence Day celebrations that will really start on Saturday night. People selling necklaces, bookmarks, artwork, and a variety of other commodities approached my table. I was able to send off most of them with a head shake, meaning no. However, one woman, with a sack and her hands full of a variety of dolls (munecas), was not going to be dissuaded. She was going to sell me something and went off on a tirade that I, probably even if my Spanish speaking skills were excellent, could not understand.
I did understand when she rested her cane and then packed up her dolls, placing them on the seat next to me, that she wanted me to guard her things as she used the cafe’s bathroom. I agreed.
While she was in the restroom, two guitarists arrived. One began introducing the duo as though we had been waiting for them to arrive all evening. They played two songs before asking for whatever small amount we could contribute to their efforts.
The woman finally emerged from the bathroom. I offered her a cookie. She obliged. In fact, she also took my napkin to pack up two more cookies for the road. We exchanged no more words. However, she raised the cookie she was eating at me in a sort of toast and headed off to the next table to offer her dolls.
shewhodaresnothing 