Small Things in Puebla and The Road to Oaxaca

NEWS FLASH: The truck is getting closer. We'll let you know when to expect to see new product from Mexico on the Chiripa floor!

[Continuing journal written by Chiripa partners on a recent buying trip.]

August 22: Small Things in Puebla

This morning, on our short stopover in the beautiful colonial city of Puebla, we walked a few blocks from our hotel to the little shop run by our friend Miguel Paredes and his wife Lilia Cruz Ruiz. Today, Miguel’s school-age son Daniel is helping at the shop (Daniel, a friendly and bright kid, attends school in the afternoon).

Miguel is a perfectionist with a sense of humor, and an eye for detail. In his home, he makes miniature clay scenes in little glass boxes. The scenes feature amusing skeletons engaged in everyday activities. The skeletons appeal to Mexicans’ black sense of humor: indeed, we all feel like walking skeletons sometimes.

Miguel Paredes with his skeletons at Casa de las Artesanias, Puebla, Mexico.

We picked out some pieces we liked (many Chiripa customers also like skeletons). Miguel carefully wrapped each small piece, and put it in a box (Daniel made several trips for packing supplies). When the box was full, Miguel started to wrap it with packing tape. He did not stop after he had sealed the top. No, he continued wrapping until he had covered every square inch of the box with packing tape (as we said, Miguel is a perfectionist). Then, with Daniel’s help, he wrapped it 6 more times to create a convenient handle for carrying the box (we will take it on the bus with us to Oaxaca).

When we got back to the hotel room, the phone rang. It was Miguel. He had discovered that he inadvertently short-changed us by 8 pesos (about 80 cents). He felt bad, and said he would return the pesos to us. We told him to keep the change.

August 22: The Road to Oaxaca

Today, something unusual happened. When we arrived at the bus station in Puebla, we had to wait a couple hours.

The Mexican bus system is a miracle of efficiency – moving millions of people every day with a minimum of trouble and fuss. In our experience, you can usually walk into a bus terminal without prior reservations and, for next to nothing, you can usually climb on a bus to the destination of your choice within 20 minutes (quite often within 5 minutes). But today, we had to wait.

Late in the afternoon, we finally boarded for the 4-hour bus trip to Oaxaca (Wo-HAH-cah) in southern Mexico. If you can ignore the U.S. movie shown en route, the trip from Puebla to Oaxaca is wonderful. There are 5 major volcanoes near Puebla, and on a clear day you can see some of them as you pull out of the city and head south (including Popocatepetl, spewing smoke at 17,802 feet, and Orizaba, Mexico’s highest mountain at 18,880 feet).

A view not from the bus!

On the outskirts of Puebla, as in other Mexican cities, you pass a lot of industrial and commercial flotsam – junk yards and facilities selling cement, tires, auto parts, construction supplies, bottled gas, and car repairs. Between these gritty places there are scores of taquerias, carnitas stands and other open air eateries where people gather to eat at all hours. Trucks and bus roar past, belching fumes.

Eventually, you emerge into the countryside and glide through farm and ranch land green with recent rains. About halfway to Oaxaca, you enter a wild and seemingly uninhabitable mountain area. The land is crumpled and tortured, and a vast forest of 20-ft. tall cactuses covers the landscape. As you climb along sheer canyon walls, and cross a bridge suspended a thousand feet over the river below, you find yourself thinking of earthquakes and landslides. But you never doubt the skill of your bus driver.

Even here, there are some signs of human life. A shepherd stands near his lonely tent, watching the flock below. And at a high scenic turnout, there is even a little comedor selling tacos, carnitas and other muy rico (very rich) and exquisite treats.

Later, the road drops into a slightly more inhabitable landscape of arroyos and running streams. Campesino huts blend into the natural landscape, and hand-planted milpas (corn and bean fields) cling to terraced hillsides. Smoke rises from the little huts, and families head home from a long day of hand-cultivation.

Finally, we drop into the broad, beautiful Oaxaca valley (still high at 5,070 ft.), which has nurtured humanity for thousands of years. The spectacular pre-Hispanic ruins of Monte Alban sit high over the modern city of Oaxaca. Rural Oaxaca state is very poor, but the city of Oaxaca is a colonial gem that draws tourists from all over the world. The site of recent political turmoil, the city is now quiet.

When we arrived on Friday night, the streets and cafes were alive with people – including visitors from Germany, France, the U.S. and other places. As usual, we walked the mile or so from the bus station to our hotel (carrying the box from Miguel’s shop in Puebla, as well as our packs).

Las Golandrinas, Oaxaca, Mexico.

Later, we enjoyed an excellent and inexpensive dinner in a candle-lit courtyard restaurant. We felt glad to have arrived.