Saturday, July 16  

I was ready to leave Oaxaca until I heard of the Mezcal festival which convinced me to stay. Mezcal could possibly be the most perfect alcohol ever invented, it is tastier than tequila, gets you drunk off a few shots and will not leave a trace of hangover. The festival would be a park full of vendors offering people free shots, a party I was not disposed to miss. I quickly made arrangements to stay for another week..


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My time is filled by getting to know the city better and making more friends, along the line I meet Candido and his troupe of professional drummers, friends of Lobo, I meet Jaraneros from Veracruz, Chiapas, and all over the country on their way to the Jarana meet. I delivered a package to Dr.Maria Inez, her husband gave me a map of Mexico and an apple which I packed in my morral for later. I called my Grandmother to let her know I was fine, she'd been worried since receiving news about my stolen wallet. I then called my contact in San Cristobal to let him know I would be there within the week.

I've noticed that my dreams have become.. delicious, for lack of a better word, every morning is fresh and yummy. The lingering recollections of the previous nights fantasies hang around my bed as a gentle and comforting mist, reminding me to smile and treasure my time here.

   [ posted by Mr.P @ 04:46 ] 0 Comments

Girls from Oaxaca.


Trying to eat a Guanavana whilst sporting my new glasses.. Its a fruit like a crocodile cross spiderweb cross snail cross mango- pretty tasty.


La Casa Rasta.


This could be a postcard.


The gang playing at the Labastida.




Dont fuck with the scouts.






The Guelagetza celebrations.



Im going to miss Oaxaca.

   [ posted by Mr.P @ 06:07 ] 0 Comments

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