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EXPLORING OAXACA

Oaxaca Territory
by Anthony Wright

OAXACA WIKISPACE
MEXICO FORUM

"For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go.
I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move."
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

"Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased:"
DANIEL 12: 4

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Index: Part One | Part Two | Part Three


INTRO

I'm sitting in a tiny cafe-cum-mezcal speakeasy called Restaurant Flami on Calle de Trujano in Oaxaca City. I deposited myself here early this morning because the coffee is cheap and the place looks quiet. I contemplate the deer's head on the wall, a faded still life depicting voluptuous bunches of grapes spilling from a bowl, the dust-coated fire hydrant, a few meters away the doors open on white sunlight, and I'm thinking Fine, fine - here is an environment free of distractions in which to commence our story.

There's a great sense of romance for a writer to sit in some obscure little cafe or cantina and write the stuff of life. Still, distractions persist. The people you watch, those who watch you, the random moments that encircle and crowd, an hour's vanished, a second coffee. I'm thinking how life streams by like the white line fever of the highway, and this is especially so when traveling. The road is an invitation, bringing an expectation of experience piling upon new experience: shining landscapes, conversations, histories, more of other worlds.

Our trip begins with the highway, the road - to be replaced by more highways and roads, dusty tracks, known and unknown; the back roads, the "free roads," the roads that have been tenuously carved in the bellies of parched mountains, where Death may stare back at you in the form of a lumbering lorry veering across the white line at 100 kph, or in the dumb, glazed eyes of a burro loitering on a blind curve...

Our main character, Ron Mader, had a plan early this year to drive the free roads from Mexico City to Oaxaca and I came on board for the ride, to write up the journey. I generally concentrate on travel and my own fiction. Ron writes on ecotourism and the environment.

Don Ron worked as an environment reporter for the Mexico City News during the years 1992-3 and it was in mid-'93 that I made his acquaintance - when I began my own tenure at the imperishable English-language daily. He moved onto Austin, Texas, the following year, and later Miami - maintaining a close relationship with Mexico by covering US-Mexico border/environment issues for various publications.

Last year Ron moved back to Mexico City, working freelance and running the Planeta.com website. This year John Muir Publications will publish his ecotourism guidebook Mexico: Adventures in Nature.

I haven't always comprehended Ron's passion for the environment. As an Aussie, engaging in "ecotourism" simply meant "going bush." Nature never struck me as a resource that needed to be actively protected - it was just there, everywhere, an inevitable, glorious abundance.

Yet during our journey to Oaxaca and back, a short enough trip as it goes - Monday, January 13 to Wednesday, January 22 - I experienced a crash course in the wisdoms of ecotourism, and saw how positive action, as Ron has demonstrated, begins with the individual.

I also learnt a few more things about the Mexico in which I've so far lived for five years - receiving keys to new kingdoms, greeted by new smiles; and felt the old pulse of the road, its mystery and mysticism, its palpable beauty and yes, palpable danger, penetrate the showed crevices of my city-beat soul once more.

- Oaxaca City 15.1.98 - Mexico City 26.1.98


INDEX

Part One

...I hadn't been out of Mexico City in some months and I hadn't been to Oaxaca in five years; I'd certainly never traveled the libre route, the free roads - Highways 115, 140, 160, 125 - which coursed through tinglingly unknown patches of my monstrously large fold-out Mapa Turistico de Carreteras, past towns I'd never heard of or registered: Amayuca, Izucar de Matamoros, Huajuapan de Leon, San Juan...

Part Two

This was Oaxacan territory, as bold and vast as any bone-bleached range, and silent, no traffic on the road that wound through red hills, stripped ochre peaks, organ pipe cacti marching in mirages of heat, shimmering sentinels, heat picking up now - 9 a.m. and hot

Part Three

A road becomes a lonely place when you break down on it. This happened to us on our "last day" of the trip, three hours after leaving Oaxaca City, traveling with ease on the Autopista back to Mexico City, 500 kilometers, officially a day's driving on this state-of-the-art highway; headed out on a fine Sunday morning, having said our goodbyes: Goodbye, goodbye...


AUTHOR

Anthony Wright is an Australian writer from Melbourne.



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