San Bartolo and Monte Alban, Oaxaca (Day 15 - 12/1/14)

Oaxaca is only a couple of states south of Mexico but in a lot of ways it feels like a whole other country.

Today is the day I almost broke. I haven't felt homesick at all during this trip but by the time that today gets to 4pm I feel like I am pretty much done.

Last night I slept terribly. I had these stabbing pains in my stomach. I guess you can only be fearless about Mexican food for so long. Despite the grasshoppers and bucket tacos and other assorted street foods, I think it was a simple piece of chicken in mole sauce that got me in the end.

My frustration has also been escalating due to phone issues. I won't bore you with the details but we'll just say that Vodafone is charging me incorrectly and I was unable to contact them because they were disallowing my calls to them. A girl from Vodafone had assured me back in Australia that if I had issues I could simply chase them up when I got back home, but this morning a new text message tells me that my entire account will be locked if I fail to contact them. Yet I am unable to call them.

That's the short non-boring version of the story. I begin to freak out because we've been using my phone to book hotels, day trips, and transfers between cities. Yikes!

So, between this and my stomach cramps, I am a little over things.

But we soldier on. What else can you do?

We have most of the day in Oaxaca so we decide to grab a taxi and see some things outside of town.

It's hard to know if you have a 'safe' taxi driver in Mexico. Guide books and similar sources tell you that if you just use the gold-and-red government-certified cabs in Mexico City then you'll be fine. This however doesn't seem to extend to other cities like Oaxaca... the taxis don't look the same, so we decide to just trust our hotel when they refer us to a guy sitting out the front. Unlike Alejandro, he speaks no English, so it takes a bit of time checking the phrasebook and pointing to maps to establish our route. Language barrier aside, he seems a little odd. He laughs and smirks a lot while staring at us in his rear view mirror, has a weird orange toy monkey hanging from the roof, and spends a lot of time talking to someone over the CB in Spanish. The Duck becomes a little scared, interpreting his laughter as being directed at us, and this in turn makes me question his trustworthiness and I become uncomfortable and paranoid.

I try to fight this feeling and rationalise things. If this guy did anything bad, it would jeopardise his job as a reputable taxi driver used by a tourist-friendly hotel, yeah?

We'll come back to this guy and his story later. Suffice to say, he drove us to two places outside of Oaxaca and we did eventually make it back to the hotel, but not without incident.

The first of our two locations is San Bartolo. The Duck has had it in her head since we left Australia that we have to visit this town because Bartolo is our last name.

San Bartolo - home of Oaxaca's famous black pottery

 

San Bartolo is a fairly quiet town; a little rundown even, and not really a destination for tourists. I begin to question whether it was worth coming out here (to be honest, I was sceptical from the start). The Duck sniffs something out though. Oaxaca is known for its distinctive black pottery, and most of this is created in San Bartolo. We find some local artisans in an open one-level building and pick up a range of gifts from them (most of which will shatter in our bags on the trip back home... but, hey, isn't that part of the majesty of travel?)

A variety of crafts stalls were pocketed all around this building

All kinds of black pottery

San Bartolo Church

 

The next stop is Monte Alban, Oaxaca state's most important and famous archaeological site. Our driver takes us up a long and winding mountaintop road to Monte Alban and agrees to wait in the carpark for us. Monte Alban is a Zapotec citadel that dates back to 300 AD. It's pretty breathtaking, with huge staircases built into the mountainside, and walled ball courts sunken into the ground, tunnels that snake into the sides of mountains, and a thin layer of grass that covers everything and gives the ruins a sense of life. We spend a while just walking around and being in it.

I don't feel very good about these skulls being displayed in the museum at Monte Alban, but then again I don't feel very good about the fact that so many people were sacrificed by the Mesoamericans. I don't really believe in objectivity but I do try to withhold judgement due to the fact that the Mexican and Indigenous cultures of Mexico aren't something that I'm a part of. What's interesting about the skulls above is the circular holes in the top - this is called trepanning; an early form of brain surgery carried out with a hand-drill.

Cool statuette.

The pictures don't really do Monte Alban justice - it's a large citadel perched on the top of a mountain, and features some pretty sophisticated architecture.

When we return to the carpark we attract the unwanted attention of a local hawker trying to sell... heck, I can't even remember what it was he wanted to sell, but the point is that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. I was emphatic with him and even frowned at him with my sternest face. Still, he followed us to our driver's car, and persistently petitioned us to buy his wares. What made it even more awkward was that our driver was fast asleep, laid back in the front passenger seat with his feet up.

I yell, "Hola!" a few times but he does not wake. The local salesman, possibly thinking that we'll pay him for his assistance, starts saying something to me. I think he's trying to tell me how to say 'wake up' so I repeat his words to the driver. Taxi driver still does not rise.

Well. This is awkward.

The Duck, myself, and this hawker just stand around for a few minutes like work acquaintances at a forced Christmas party. Why won't this guy just go away? He stops trying to talk to us but remains standing with us in the car park while the driver continues his siesta, and he just stares at me. He's not going to get a sale out of us. Does annoying someone really work as a sales technique? I stare back at him.

Screw it.

I start knocking on the car's window with a renewed vigour. I don't want to continue standing with this weird local guy. The driver finally awakens with a sheepish grin.

In our travels around Oaxaca we've noticed a Walmart, so we ask the driver to take us there so we can buy some new luggage for our trip out of Oaxaca. He seems to understand but we end up at the fleamarkets in downtown Oaxaca, confirming that he does not understand us at all. Both myself and the Duck are done with this guy and his laughing conversations on the CB, so we decide to use the opportunity of being in a public place to finish our day trip with him. He seems a little put out that we don't want to continue driving around with him and begins to calculate our fare. I just give him 600 pesos (which is intentionally more than we should owe) and he pretends this is exactly the right price. The transaction is over and we're both happy.

We get out of the back of the cab, waiting for him to pop the boot so we can grab our purchases from San Bartolo. Still wary of him, I keep my door open while we indicate for him to open the trunk.

You know what he does? He starts driving off!

"Woah woah woah!" I shout (a universal sound, I'm sure). I refuse to let go of the door even while he drives. The door clangs against a motorbike parked in the street as I'm dragged along and the driver stops the taxi with a sudden lurch. He laughs and plays it off as forgetfulness when I angrily point to the boot. Duck thinks it wasn't on purpose, but I'm not so sure. We grab our things and head into the markets to see if we can find a bag to put our stuff in.

Oaxaca markets

I don't like markets at the best of times. These were a little too claustrophobic for me.

Oaxacan cheese. Yum!

With all my worrying, and the added pressure of needing an extra piece of luggage before we leave Oaxaca tonight, things start getting a bit tense between myself and the Duck. By the time we get a new backpack we're not really talking much, and the long walk back to our hotel is both physically and emotionally draining.

While repacking our bags at the hotel, Vodafone finally call me and agree to delete all the weird debt that has accrued on my phone. It's a small win but a win nonetheless. We head to Oaxaca station for our transfer to the next stop on our journey, the town of San Cristobal de las Casas. The back of my neck is sunburnt; it's so hot it feels like freshly cooked bacon. The bus leaves at 7pm; a coach that will take 11 hours overnight to get to its destination. I think I might just be tired enough to sleep through it. 

Look, I know I already posted a picture of a Mexican toilet previously, but this picture features a pedal-operated flush. Why don't we have these in our public toilets? I'd be far more likely to flush a public toilet if I didn't have to do it with my hand!