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This is my journal of experiences, thoughts, ideas, and experiments; it is erratic, sometimes fruitless, sometimes profound (at least for me). I don't advertise it, but I don't mind the occasional cyber-wanderer taking a gander at it. I tend to meander when I write, to jump to new topics without transition, and some things I say are tied to things I've talked about before, so feel free to hop around and just read what pops out at you.

Oaxaca

Posted: Wednesday, January 5, 2011 by Sir Lancealot in
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I stayed in Oaxaca for a week and a day.  My first priority was to spend the little money my pal Juan had given me on getting in contact with a host.  I sent out a few messages: first, to a few hosts, second, to ask if anybody in Oaxaca was up for hanging out.  This is my tactic for every new city I'm in, for two reasons: because I would like a host with whom I can exchange conversation, work, meals, and information and have some static/familiarity with during my time, and second because even if I can't get a host I want to have some good company, and couchsurfing is damn good at providing good company.  So for the first night, I was hanging out in the centro, where I saw a guy in a black robe leading a group of about 6 people.  I smiled at him because of his garb, and he smiled back and approached me.  We exchanged pleasantries and he informed me that they were doing a night tour of churches, and he invited me to join, even though it was going to be in Spanish.  I was just looking for some diversion, so I said no problem, because I could at least spend some time listening to an orator speaking in spanish.  We walked and talked, and he complimented my eyes, which I've never had before.  I see.  Oh well, he's still nice, and I dont write guys off just because they're attracted to me... they are good company and they are often nice enough to me and I just stick to my boundaries and communicate thoroughly any issues.  Well, I didnt end up getting to stay at his place, and he directed me to a quiet corner in a church plaza where I could sleep and probably not be bothered by the police.  Ive since learned that in Mexico it is common that churches are safe havens for the weary traveler; it is essentially public space and they have remarkably few homeless here so people often have a pitying ear for you, and there is absolutely no reason to panhandle.

The next day I got a hold of a guy who was eager to host me and he came and picked me up, and we went back to his house, which was actually a preschool/daycare, cerca de una pepsi factory.  The niños were absolutely adorable, and we had a bit of food and I made the silly mistake of telling them I called myself Lencho--a hypocorism that is mocking and not something a serious young man should refer to himself as.  Oh well--we got along great and I stayed in his chilly back room, a quality of the concrete buildings here--caves to stay cool in from the common heat.  
During my time in Oaxaca I mostly stayed in the centro, where I encountered a bunch of cool gypsy hippy types, playing with fire and making intricate jewelry.  My favorite was my first pal, Jonatan, whom I talked to because he was spinning poi and I demonstrated that I did too. We went panhandling with poi in the semaforo (stoplight/intersection) and earned 80 pesos in an hour--not too shabby.  

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