Day 16
Today I packed up and said goodbye to Puebla after what was a beautiful visit. On my way out of town, I spotted a Churreria and decided to stop for some breakfast. They were just opening when I arrived. After watching a man deliver the day's milk via bicycle, I asked how long until they had churros. Ten minutes, they said. So I waited. I bought a coffee and relaxed. After about 15 minutes, I noticed a man lighting the oil to cook the churros. Hmmm... I asked if the churros would be done soon. "Ahora mismo!" This literally means 'right now' but functionally means 'very soon'. I didn't really have anywhere I HAD to be, but I was anxious to get back to Oaxaca. Ten minutes after that I had my churros, which were warm and delicious. This experience reminded me of how different time is experienced by distinct groups of people. In my white suburban household, if I said I would be down to dinner in 10 minutes, I was expected to be there no later than 10 minutes, preferably 8 or 9. I have noticed at my school that meetings which are set to begin at 5 often start at 5:30. My current school is really smart and offers pizza and soda before PTA meeting and then starts after about 30 minutes. The food encourages people to get there on time and allows latecomers to not miss the meat of the meeting. It is challenging to think about how I can be sensitive to time differences within the rigid class period schedule that is present at most NYC public schools.
It is amazing what a single exposure will do to normalize an experience. I was literally terrified driving to Puebla because I didn't understand certain norms on the highway and was a little unnerved by the huge cliffs right next to the road with only a guardrail between me and them. The drive back was not exactly zen, but I was much more relaxed. People passed each other at times that seemed insane to me, but I was able to focus on the amazing views during the 4 hour trip.
I arrived in Oaxaca just in time for afternoon comida. Since it was Sunday, many restaurants were closed. I decided to try a slightly fancier seafood joint called Marco Polo. My partner, son and I arrived around 4 and were asked if we would be comfortable sitting in the kids section. We weren't really sure what this meant, but said okay. It was AMAZING!! There was a room with a bunch of play equipment and foam mats on one side of the room with the tables right nearby. Kids could play and then periodically come by the table to munch on food. Dante was so happy! The one unusual thing was that a woman started following Dante around helping him climb the slide and talking to him. It seemed great at first, but then I noticed that this woman was only paying attention to Dante. He was one of the youngest. Maybe that was why? Does she work here? After consulting with a waiter, I discovered that she was another example of an informal laborer who was hanging around offerring her babysitting services. Although I didn't request the service, it was nice to have Dante entertained for a moment while Amber and I ate. I tipped her upon leaving and Dante happily waived goodbye.
After too much delicious seafood, I decided to take a nap. When I woke up, I heard a lot of noise outside. I asked the Posada innkeeper and he told me that the villages were parading into Oaxaca to begin the Guelaguetza. Where? A half block from my hotel! I ran down and snapped this shot of one of the many groups of people wearing indigenous dress and dancing through the streets. There were also giant paper mache objects, flowers, musicians, and people of all ages. It was truly a joyful scene.
What impressed me most of all was that when I was walking back to the hotel, before the parade had ended, I noticed a line of cars farther than I could see whose way had been blocked by the festivities. I was reminded of a similar scene at Critical Mass (a bike demonstration where cyclists take over the streets to increase awareness surrounding cycling). The main difference was the demeanor of the Oaxacan drivers. I can't say they were thrilled to be stuck but they weren't honking or yelling. They were sitting in there cars or standing next to them, eating peanuts or drinking a soda. It was what it was. I think this connects back to a sense of fluidity about time. So they are a little late. There is nothing to be done and really it probably isn't that big a deal. I admired the tranquility and acceptance that I saw. It also explained a lot to me about why my students sometimes are so truly befuddled about why I care if they get to school at 8:45 or 8:55. Is it really that different?
Ok, so I took a video of the parade because I felt like still photography didn't capture it. Unfortunately, the internet is not cooperating. So, I will try to add the video to this blog post tomorrow. =/