I am back in Oaxaca, and I can’t help but inventory what is still the same and what has changed. So, having been here just over twenty-four hours, here’s an initial list:
What’s the same?
It is the rainy season.
The cafe de olla and juice are sweet.
There is music in the streets.
The lady selling tablecloths is still friendly with her tales of woe.
The Internet connection at the posada is a puzzle.
It’s hard to warm up to living in Spanish.
Mari and I are looking forward to taco Friday.
It’s Wednesday here; I’m headed to Tlacochahuaya to teach children English.
What’s different?
The posada has new paint and art.
There are bikers in town; some have jackets that have their gang’s names on them: Legionarios de Mexico, for example.
Most importantly, only Cecilia and Mateo were on the zocalo. The rest of the Little Businessman and Co., including Augostino (The Little Businessman) were at home with the new baby Marcela, bringing the family count to eight mouths to feed.
shewhodaresnothing 