We three Susans always bought T-shirts and stuff with three women on them, but being corn goddesses trumps them all. Though honestly, these blocky-headed broads look as though the weavers were documenting a visitation from The Others, who came in peace bearing corn stalks. Wearing skirts, no less.
People
10,000 Steps: All in a Day’s Walk in Oaxaca
Last time I went to the states, everyone was wearing one of those little fitness bracelets that counts your steps – the daily goal being 10,000. I’m not sure how in the world you can get in 10,000 steps in a North American day, but here in Oaxaca it’s all in a day’s walk.
Not Your Ordinary Groundhog Day
While some of you were waiting on a groundhog to predict whether there would be six more weeks of winter up in el norte, I was eating tamales with a way cool bunch of women in the tiny mountain town of San Miguel de Valle in the eastern Oaxaca valley.
It was actually a double holiday: Constitution Day as far as the government was concerned, and Día de la Candelaria on the Catholic calendar, celebrating the day that Jesus graduated from swaddling and hit the street in real clothes.
Photo by Kim Groves, En Via
El Baby Shower
Naturally, the sequel to la boda (the wedding) is el baby shower. In Mexico, it has all of the ingredients of its namesake fiesta al norte (gifts, 
food, party games) but with a cultural twist that makes it hard to believe there’s not a separate word for it in Spanish.
My friend Siobhan had warned me not to cross my legs or I’d have to put on a giant diaper; José wasn’t listening and had to put on a diaper before he’d been there five full minutes.
Four Points for Refusal
I was already in my second deep culture shock after only a week back in the U.S., having agreed to pay for a mani-pedi in Dallas roughly what I’d spend on a full week of decent restaurant dinners in Oaxaca. The Vietnamese nail technicians were chattering loudly to one another, working on but otherwise ignoring the three of us clients seated in vibrating massage chairs, feet soaking in sudsy hot water.
Vino Indio for Whatever Ails You
Paco wasn’t expecting us, but then we never call first. Every branch of José’s extensive family tree is just pleasantly surprised whenever we show up, whenever that might be. Someone’s always home to answer the doorbell, which in Tío Julio’s case involves a rope running down the staircase from his second-story apartment that somehow opens the door on the street.
Orizaba
They’re Rioting in Africa
There was this song by the Kingston Trio in the ’60s called The Merry Minuet that started with the lyrics: “They’re rioting in Africa; they’re starving in Spain. There are hurricanes in Florida; and Texas needs rain.”
So it’s summer in Oaxaca and once again (as they apparently do every year), the teacher unions are protesting and demanding change from the government.
Hospitality, Mexican-Style
Martha Stewart
It’s a funny thing that Americans don’t invite people to their houses much any more. I’m not sure Martha Stewart did anyone any favors — she made us all feel inadequate to entertain if we didn’t grow the frigging corn before making the tortillas for a theme-based dinner party. (Of course, she’s done her time, but I hear she’s out entertaining again.)
The great thing about Mexico is that people DO invite people over, but the chickens might be tied up outside the kitchen, the floor is dirt so mopping won’t help, and guess what? The food is still usually great.
Brunie’s Funeral, With Pants Inside Out
Brunie was already in his twilight years when my friend Stephie brought him down to live with her in Oaxaca. A gentle Jack Russell terrier with a grayed muzzle and stiff joints, he didn’t stray much further than the courtyard Stephie shared with the Mexican family she rented from.
Whole Lotta Shakin’
So on my first day back in Oaxcaca yesterday, I’m in a Volkswagen bug covered with Playboy bunny decals with no front seatbelt, tooling out of town with a Mexican dude who doesn’t exactly have an official driver’s license. He’s told me that we’re invited to the wedding anniversary party of a childhood friend in a little village about 30 miles out of town, so I’ve dressed up a little and am wearing a blue jean skirt, dangly earrings and new sandals.
Embracing the Chaos 