I didn’t wear my harem costume this year for Day of the Dead; that would have been 2009 when I was still feeling a little let out of school to be living in Mexico. But that three-week trip to Oaxaca for Día de los Muertos was a life-changer. I knew that if this place were this magic despite a missed flight, a grumpy traveling companion and a bout of the swine flu – it must really be special.
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.
Embracing the Chaos 