Oaxacabound

Day 5

Any idea how to pronounce this city? My phone translator says it’s she-leet-la, but I heard locals say see-leet-la and hee-leet-la. Every language has accents, one more wrinkle to learning Spanish as if I needed another.

Gerry told me I should start my exploration of the area here at the Jardin Escultorico (sculpture garden), the once home of Edward James, an eccentric billionaire and rumored illegitimate son of English King Edward VII. He couldn’t stand people, so in 1947, he decided to build a surrealist palace deep in the jungle on the side of a mountain. It was inspired by his buddy Salvador Dali with staircases to nowhere, crazy colors (long faded), a zoo’s worth of exotic animals bribed over the border, etc. It’s fallen into disrepair, but pretty spectacular stuff.

There was an elderly couple on my tour. She was originally from Houston, but they had zero interest in chatting. I’ve been finding that to be more true than not. The expats in Oaxaca have been wonderful to me, but those I’m meeting on the road, not so much. Maybe one type of person visits a place and a different type moves there. In contrast, local Mexicans are almost always interested in talking despite the language barrier.

Coming back, I drove thru Snowconelandia (my name, not theirs), a kilometer of 50+ shops side by side on both sides of the road selling the exact same thing with virtually identical signage. I know it gets hot here (often repeated legend 127 degree historical high), but that has to be the greatest marketing challenge of all time… “No, stop at MY thatched roof hut with rainbow sign for the same frozen coconut milk.” I wasn’t particularly hungry, but when in Snowconelandia. It tasted like frozen coconut milk.

Another seeming aberration is sugar cane fields as far as the eye can see. I never associated sugar cane and mountains (thought it was a coastal crop) but a plantation owner told me it grows like crazy, 10 to 20 feet each year. Cut it down, it grows right back. They are big suppliers to Coca Cola for the Mexican version Americans rave about. It’s like how agave is grown to make mezcal in Oaxaca. Anyone with a decent chunk of land plants some.

Tomorrow, the waterfalls…