Beginning to come out of the funk of homesickness, I went to a café. The man recognized me as a regular customer and asked how long I will be staying in Oaxaca. When I told him, more or less, until early January, he gave me a frequent buyer card and explained that I was on my way to earning a free drink of my choice. If I am a regular anywhere here, it is in three coffee shops. This one that has wi-fi, the one close to the posada (that is closed on Sundays), and the one on the Zocalo where I meet the little businessman for ice cream. IN two of the cafes, they know that I want a latte, no sugar. It is nice to be a regular, to be known – at least a little bit.
shewhodaresnothing 