‘Si, Chiquitita, Soy Gringa’ (or, The Time I Learned the Hard Way Not to Eat Seafood in Inland Mexico)

July 11th, 2006

This weekend’s trip was to Oaxaca (pronounced Wa-HA-ka). It was beautiful. Authentic Mexico. While Puebla is a city not too-too far behind the United States cities I’ve known, Oaxaca is folkloric and historic. Highlights were a trip out to Monte Alban—awesome—and some lone wandering and shopping in the streets of the city. Oaxaca is a very political city, due to the number of indiginous-traditional groups living in the state, and tensions are especially high right now, because of some recent sad events related to a teachers’ strike. A lot of demonstrators and graffiti and such.  

We also visited a shop where barro negro is made. Barro negro is a black, shiny—almost metallic—pottery that is delicately shaped by hand and carved, and it’s gorgeous but oh-so fragile.

I’ll post more photos tomorrow, but meanwhile, here are a few.

While in Oaxaca, I ate a pasta dish with shrimp. Never. Again. I certainly got to practice my Spanish, asking for medicinas and servicios. I can report that today, all is on the way to being well.

I enjoyed a special moment with two little Oaxacan girls, who were carrying a baby-doll around and playing mommy with it. I asked in Spanish whose baby it was, and they told me, and then I said to the other one in Spanish ‘You’re the Godmother,’ and they thought that was so funny, we became momentary friends. Then, the littlest one worked up the courage to ask what had been on her mind: ‘Eres gringa?’ Loosley translated, I believe this means, ‘Are you a whitey?’ Hee hee. I confessed and told them I lived in California, which they had never heard of, then in Los Angeles, which they had never heard of, then near Disneyland … THIS they had heard of.

Mexico has a reputation for being unsafe for travelers, and in some ways, it’s true. It’s seriously inadvisable to drive the highways, as the police and federales are notoriously corrupt and known to pull over tourists and demand bribes and such, and the sanitation issues are real. But here in Puebla, things are really no more criminally troublesome; I simply stand out. A lot. You know the few gringos because (1) they’re the ones walking at a pace that actually moves them forward, and (2) all the little children are staring at them. At us. At me.

Buenas noches. :)

2 Responses to “‘Si, Chiquitita, Soy Gringa’ (or, The Time I Learned the Hard Way Not to Eat Seafood in Inland Mexico)”

  1. cindy Says:

    I ate fish tacos in Nogales. They were delicious but I have been warned about eating seafood in Mexico. Maybe they steam it in the bad water.

  2. Sista' Says:

    Kids can say the “CUTEST” things…no seriously, i laughed, hard. sounds like you are having such an awsome time…getting to do more than hang in a hotel.

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