A Valentine to Oaxaca

August, 2012. We are in the City of Oaxaca, in southern Mexico, searching out fine artisan crafts for Chiripa.

Oaxaca rooftops

We love to walk the streets of Oaxaca, one of our favorite cities in all of Mexico. 

Oaxaca is sophisticated, but down to earth, and inhabited by charming people. 

A Day on the church steps, Oaxaca

We love the morning mist on the mountains, the afternoon sun and shadow, the cool evenings, the friendly light of the food seller's stall after dark.

Food vendor and customers, Oaxaca

We love the green cut stone of the buildings, the echoing church bells, the museums, the old monasteries, the elegant courtyards, and the daily grit and clamor of the market.  

Textile Museum, Oaxaca

We love the cobblestone streets and sidewalks, the street vendors, the students, the shopkeepers, the balloon sellers and the roaming mariachi bands. We love the giant papier mache puppets and the families strolling together. 

Oaxaca Street

We love the smells of coffee, chocolate, peppers, fresh vegetables, fried tortillas and roasting corn. We love the crowded sidewalks in the market district.  We love the flat nasal shouts of the bus conductors, calling out destinations. We even love the belching, rumbling, swaying, rundown buses that are often named (like fishing boats) after saints or loved ones.  

Market stall, Oaxaca

Everywhere in Oaxaca, proud and graceful people are working hard to make a living. People are building, hauling, cooking, counting, sweeping, selling, and playing music in the streets.

Street musician and green stone.

Oaxaca

Thank you, Oaxaca. - JM

Santo Domingo at Night

Nicodemus

August, 2012.  We are in the city of Oaxaca, in southern Mexico, searching out fine artisan crafts for Chiripa.

At the corner of Mina and J.P. García, in the market district southwest of the central plaza, there is a little shop that sells tin and other artisan crafts. Nicodemus, a gentleman of 81 years, has operated the shop for over half a century. For most of those years, he worked 6 days a week (he closed the shop on Sundays to spend time with his wife and family). But since his wife died 9 years ago, he now spends every day in the shop. He feels at home there.

Nicodemus is a retailer, not a maker of crafts. But he is an artist in his own way. He knows what it means to run a shop in good times and bad. Untold thousands of craft pieces have passed through his hands, and he knows exactly what size box he will need for the many pieces we buy. He stores his boxes near the ceiling, and pulls them down with a long wooden pole. He wraps the craft items expertly, and fits them precisely into the box he has selected. The box is exactly full.

Nicodemus and Chiripa friend

Nicodemus is charming and courteous, and not at all pushy. He moves gracefully around his little domain, despite his 81 years. He knows where everything is, and he wastes no motion. He loves to talk about his business, including the good old days when he was selling “tons” of crafts to Japanese buyers who trusted him to arrange complex orders. To every purchaser he gives little handout sheets describing interesting details of Oaxacan history and culture.

Nicodemus had little formal education, but by hard work managed to send all his children to school. His children now have good jobs, and Nicodemus lives with his son. On one wall of the shop there is a large poster, marking the 50th anniversary of the business. The poster features a picture of Nicodemus, and is inscribed to Don Nicodemus (a title indicating great respect) by his loving children. 

Although Nicodemus has operated his shop for over a half century, he does not actually own the building in which it is housed. On the day we were there, the landlord called about the rent payment. Nicodemus told him that the rent was on its way. - JM

Change Comes to San Cristóbol

August, 2012.  We are traveling in southern Mexico, searching out unique and beautiful local crafts for Chiripa.

San Cristóbol de las Casas is an old colonial city in the Chiapas highlands. In this place, the past is everywhere. Our hotel, for example, was once the home of Diego de Mazariegos, who led the Spanish invasion of Chiapas in 1528.  But the local indigenous culture is far, far older than that.

Old Church Door

San Cristóbol de las Casas

The industrial city of Tuxtla Gutierrez is just an hour or two away, by bus. But it is much harder to get to San Cristóbol from other metropolitan areas, as we rediscovered on our 11-hour bus ride from Oaxaca. New federal highway projects may reduce the city’s isolation, for good or ill. But for now, San Cristóbol is still somewhat off the beaten path. 

Off the Beaten Path:

Sleeping Dogs in San Cristóbol

In San Cristóbol, you are just about as likely to hear people speaking a Mayan language as Spanish. And while most Mexicans (like all of us) now wear clothing that has been mass-produced in Asia, many Mayan people here still wear traditional dress that has not changed for centuries. The indigenous people make the clothing with their own hands, using local materials (although we were told that cheap "knock-offs" are now entering the commercial market). 

Fine Traditional Embroidery

For the indigenous people, clothing is an expression of community rather than individuality. Mayan women from the same village wear the same style of dress, much the way members of an athletic team wear the same uniform, except that these traditional "uniforms" are not made by Nike. They bear no corporate logos, and they do not change with the latest fashion trends.

The Changing Streets of San Cristóbal

We first visited San Cristóbal in 1987, and were last there in 1999 (just a few years after the Zapatista uprising). Much has changed since then. The place looks more prosperous. There has been a lot of new investment. There are more cars. There are walking malls lined with pizza and other fast-food restaurants. There are trendy coffee shops and bars. There are retail shops selling expensive things for tourists. There are people staring at smart phones, and waving their fingers over them. 

The current atmosphere resembles, in some ways, a fashionable ski resort. To us, this is a little unsettling. But much of the old San Cristóbal remains.

Colonial Church on a Rainy Afternoon

There are the beautiful old colonial buildings. There is the clean and bracing morning air, and the special light. There are colorful markets, selling local products and crafts. Above all, there are the indigenous people who make San Cristóbol a truly memorable place.

San Cristóbol Street Scene

We spent a lot of time in the local markets. We found amber jewelry created by craftsmen in the village of Simojovel, in a remote area north of San Cristóbol. We found woven and embroidered table linens, purses and more. We had fun talking to vendors who were selling crafts from their home villages. When we climbed back on the bus, for the return 11-hour night ride to Oaxaca, we were packing lots of beautiful crafts and memories.  - JM 

Old and New

True Collectors' Items

August, 2012. We are traveling in the state of Oaxaca, in southern Mexico, in search of fine artisan crafts for Chiripa.

In the world of Mexican indigenous crafts, Jacobo and María Angeles are rock stars. In their colorful workshop, on a dirt-and-cobble lane in the far corner of the small Zapotec village of San Martín Tilcajete, they carve and paint the most beautiful alebrijes on the planet. Jacobo and María were born in the village, and have known each other since they were children. Jacobo learned wood carving from his father, who died when Jacobo was just 12 years old.

Jacobo and Maria Angeles

In the hands of Jacobo and Maria (and their small group of artists), alebrijes are not just carved and painted wooden animals. They are not just common craft objects, or figures slavishly copied from nature. The figures live in a spirit world, at once whimsical and real. They seem to have their own hidden thoughts. They have a timeless quality, at once ancient and stunningly modern. They are elegant and mysterious, and they draw you in. 

Dog alebrije

Skilled hands carve the figures from copal wood. The figures are then carefully dried, and painted with colors made from natural local materials. The artists use fine-tipped brushes to execute minutely detailed, traditional Zapotec patterns. Everything is done with painstaking care and patience, under the exacting eyes of Jacobo and Maria. A single piece takes months to create (one specially-commissioned 4-ft. coyote took over two years!). These works of art come in a variety of sizes, and are sought by knowledgeable collectors throughout the world. 

Carver at Work

During our recent visit, María Angeles told us that they can easily sell every piece they make, and that they are having trouble keeping up with a worldwide demand. We were nevertheless able to obtain some brilliant pieces for Chiripa, because we have known Jacobo and Maria for years. Come to Chiripa and see these collectors’ items for yourself!       - JM

Painter with Skunk Alebrije

My Wallet is Gone!

August 2012.  We are in southern Mexico, collecting beautiful artisan crafts for Chiripa.

... And then it happens.  Every traveler’s nightmare moment.  You reach into your pocket or purse, and your wallet is missing!  My moment came as we were packing Oaxacan crafts for shipment to Chiripa.  The hotel room was filled with ceramics, textiles, alebrijes and tin, as well as cardboard boxes, newpaper, bubble wrap, marking pens and packing tape.  The hotel checkout deadline was in half an hour.

I had made repeated trips to buy more boxes and packing supplies, and from the last of those trips my wallet had not returned.  I feared and imagined the worst.  But when I asked at the little paper supply store (the one with the portable stairway that is put out on the sidewalk each morning, and taken in at night), the young woman opened a wooden drawer and pulled out a well-worn wallet.  “Is this it?” she smiled.  It was.  Everything was there.  I offered her a reward, but she declined.  “It is a pleasure to help,” she smiled. -JM