Now Let’s Talk Mexico

OK, now that the Facebook questions are covered (see previous blog post) let’s talk about how much fun it was to travel with the Wayfaring Writers to Oaxaca, Mexico.

Lots of fun. A few weirdnesses, and lots fun.

Oaxaca is the “mildly undiscovered” part of Mexico way down south, and about 2.5 hours by car inland from the beach. In other words, it has US citizens and Canadians living in it, but not like some of the other parts. Oaxaca is a city of more than a million people, and it’s vibrant with multiple cultures, including the indigenous Zapotecs.

Rather than do a trip chronology, let’s just hit some of the fun points, like YARN!!!!

The Wayfaring Writers is structured so you have perhaps three short classes/discussions on topics like characterization, scene depiction, or writing dialogue, and over the course of the 10 days of the trip, you alternate writing days with outing days. One of our outings was to a traditional weaving family’s business.

I had been waiting for this one. It is easy to buy acrylic yarn in Mexico that’s made in Mexico, but the good stuff, well that’s more tucked away. Not least because the country has got to be hard on sheep; in the non-rainy season the place has that grey-green cooked look we get in the mountains when it’s too dry, and what are wooly little sheep going to do in a pasture where 45 degrees is dead cold winter, with the shepherd bundled into a North Face jacket?

But they do have sheep, mostly in the colder regions of the mountains. I never met any sheep personally, but the family at the weaving firm told us about them. The family spoke Zapotec, but they were used to tour groups and could switch to Spanish so our guide, Alberto, could translate for us.

First they showed us how to card and spin the wool.This used the same things people in traditional wool work use in the United States, including what we would call a “great” wheel or a traditional American spinning wheel.

Her yarn was amazingly even for handspun, and when I said as much she grinned and said she had been spinning since she was five.

Then the color glories began, and as a dabbling herbalist and an avid yarnist, this was the best part:

In one of the pictures above, with the green yarn, you can see they used usnea to dye it. (That’s what’s in the bowl.) Other dyes were made from cactus bugs, cacti mold, flowers, nut shells, a few indigenous plants, and sometimes indigo. Red and turquoise yarns cost more because of the dying process. And the natural colors of the sheep, pale and dark brown, were cheaper. You can see what I wound up clutching.

The rugs were amazing, and basically on a good day of 8-10 hours of work on a fairly complex pattern, a weaver would get between 6 and 8 inches done. The colors sang in the room where they were stacked, and we all went a little bit nuts deciding which things to take home. Some budgets were broken that day, but nobody cared.

The family gave us lunch, and the requisite Mezcal. (We will talk more about this later, but Mezcal is to Oaxacan hospitality what coffee is to the States. You’re really not leaving without being offered a sip at least six times.) Guacamole in Oaxaca is made with grasshopppers in it, and once you reconcile to this fact, you’re going to like it. That stuff is delicious.

The day we visited the weaving family was referred to by the rest of the Wayfaring Writers as “Wendy’s Happy Day.” And it was. More adventures later, gotta go crochet a rug now. :]

The Monday Book: THREE BAGS FULL by Leonie Swann

sheep I bought Three Bags Full while visiting my friend Tina’s bookstore PAPERBACK EXCHANGE in Neenah, Wisconsin. Tina’s shop is stuffed like ours with mazes of shelves towering to the moon, and I bonked myself on the head with this book while reaching for another. (No harm; it’s a paperback!)

When a book chooses you, you should pay attention.

Because Three Bags Full is a lot of fun. When their shepherd is murdered, the flock must sort out whodunit, but then they have to get the human herd to understand who, and how, and why. The best parts of the book are when the sheep react in very sheeply ways to things around them. They create a memorial field to their shepherd, but then they eat all the really tasty plants out of it, sheepishly. (Heh, sorry couldn’t resist.)

The language in the book has survived translation very well (being originally in German) and there are some lovely literary passages in addition to the sheep psychology:

“The sea looked as if it had been licked clean, blue and clear and smooth, and there were a few woolly little clouds in the sky. Legend said that these clouds were sheep who had simply wandered over the cliff tops one day, special sheep who now went on grazing in the sky and were never shorn. In any case, they were a good sign.”

That kind of thing. I liked the juxtaposition of what the sheep were thinking within their own limitations–their fear of blood smells, their herd instinct, their natural tendencies to forget what they were doing because of food–but I also liked the casual observations of humanity that were so easy to get, seeing ourselves as the sheep might see us:

“Maple thought optimistically that human beings, on their good days, weren’t much dimmer than sheep. Or at least, not much dimmer than dim sheep.”

Three Bags Full is a perfect beach read for someone who wants a fun, light-yet-insightful book that gives you a pleasant pick-me-up, murder notwithstanding. Two hooves up.