Cosas Chulas Sobre Esquipulas (Awesome Things About Esquipulas)

-- My partner, Henry. We have virtually nothing in common, but get along amazingly well. Probably because he too is a little off.

















-- Bucket bathing. More specifically, the rush you feel when you dump a bucket of water down your whole body. (As opposed to the dull spray you get from a showerhead.)

-- The fascination people have with trabalenguas (tongue twisters). So far I've got down this really long Spanish version of Peter Piper Picked a Peck of Pickled Peppers and this native Oaxacan tongue twister, Paranguaricutidimicuaro.

-- The fascination my family has with my corpse-like hands. Each morning, Camilla and Moises take turns poking my palm to watch it turn red, white, and purple. I return the favor by freezing the back of their necks when they least expect it. They call a truce by lighting a match. (My hands often aren't functional enough for me to do it on my own). This match allows me to light the stove, which I rub my hands over until the regain color.

-- The perfect curvature of my cot. Like the Throne of God at William and Mary, it is the rare piece of furniture that is comfortable enough to make you want to read and write forever...without ever making you start to fall asleep.

-- The fact that people think I made a personalized Oaxaca dodgeball t-shirt before I came because my TDX dodgeball t-shirt has a large OAX symbol.

-- Señora Hela's toilet paper. Which boasts that it is "mas suave y mas blanco" (more smooth and more white). I know I wouldn't go near a beige or off-white brand, double-ply or not.

-- Señora Hela's sense of occasion. She puts on a toilet seat when company comes...and takes it off when they leave!

-- The view of the mountains on the way to Tequio. (Tequio is the gorgeous 5k nature preserve my parter, Henry, and I walk/run through 2/3 times a week). People had said beforehand that Oaxaca was beautiful, but I thought that meant that kind of politically correct beauty -- the kind that has a person enter a slum in Detroit and marvel at the intricate graffiti patterns and well-sorted trash heaps. (Detroit is the poorest city in the US; Oaxaca is the second poorest city in Mexico). I thought these people were patronizing Oaxacan inhabitants, misrepresenting where they lived in order to be 'culturally sensitive.'

As it turned out, their representation was
entirely accurate. All of the neighborhoods I've seen are incredibly colorful and those that surround the mountains have a remarkable view. The view as you approach Tequio is particularly good because you see houses and shops of every hand-painted color and design on either side of you -- and verdant, towering mountains in front of you. All of the paths inside Tequio are green, and many are lined with purple, orange, and red flowers.















If I'm being fair, there is a fair amount of litter on most streets, and certain areas have an unpleasant odor, but overall, it would not be condescending to describe the area as attractive.

-- Having to think about what it'll be like back in the US when the bread isn't coated with sugar (Pan Dulce).
-- Having to wait a full week until my supervisor comes to have crunchy tostadas soaked in a warm tomato puree (Chili Quile).

-- Learning to like coffee. Liking carne de res clayudas immediately.

-- The way you can like any possible food you're given. If you're not a huge fan, just envelop it in a tortilla and you can barely taste the difference.