This is why we travel

We shuffled around the small, dirty "second-class" bus station glancing at each other awkwardly as we quickly realized we were most definitely the only people in the entire bus stop who were not of Mexican descent. If anyone has ever heard of the rock group, “The Whitest Boy Alive”, their name definitely popped into my head as I tried to scurry Lindsey and myself past a loud brass band playing to the cheers and jaunts of the local drunks who seemed to have all flocked to the bus station to celebrate Dia de Guadalupe (day of the Virgin Mary).

In a split second we made the decision that morning to either get the hell out of there, or to jump on the first bus we could find heading to our desired destination of Teotitlan Del Valle, a small weaving village just east of Oaxaca. Luckily for us, in that split second, we heard the loud and comforting announcement of TEOTITLAN being shouted from an arriving bus, saving us from further drunken Mexican stares.

The dry and rocky land of Teotitlan. 

To set a scene for you, take your mind to the last John Wayne movie you saw. There he is riding his horse across the dry and dusty plains with tumbleweeds blowing across his view. On the horizon are large rocky mountains that provide some shelter from the sun and an impressive backdrop to the stark and barren landscape. Abandoned buildings, the likes of which John’s villains may be hiding within, lurk to the side of the road. Who knows how long they have been empty or how long the cacti growing around them have stood. It’s an ageless view, one that at first look seems old and tired but after investigation is most likely full of life.

This John Wayne setting is where we were politely dropped off by our bus, on the outskirts of the small village of Teotitlan. The only difference between our and John’s lizard filled desert was ours was accompanied by a friendly mescal distillery and his, I imagine, was not.  As we stepped off the bus, Lindsey trundled off to the bathroom and I am left, once again, whitest boy alive, with several Mexican mescal tourist operators making a beeline for me and my obvious looking dreadlocks.

After a few minutes of polite refusal I am finally sucked in through sheer curiosity by the donkey to the left of me who is pulling a large stone wheel around in a circle, smashing up large parts of the mescal cactus. A friendly and opportunistic lady offered me a piece of the cactus and explained how the plant is full of natural sugars which is why good mescal can be very sweet. She then leads me over to a large tank and distillation area where the mescal process of fermenting the donkey squeezed liquid begins, and ends, with a shot glass of direct from the tank Mescal being happily poured down my throat.

Lindsey finds me here and we are then herded over to the bar where we continue to taste their varied selection of straight mescals and flavored mescal liquors. Feeling pretty buzzed for 11 o’clock in the morning we happily purchase a small bottle for their trouble and we walk away, me questioning the easiness of how a quick bathroom visit turned into a full Mescal tasting. But I can think of worst things happening to us in a desert.

Back on our original mission, we finally make it to the village of intention where rumor has it the tradition of using natural dyes to create the vibrant and beautifully colored textiles still exists, and is in some part making a revival. Walking through the town of Teotitlan and being genuinely interested in the local materials, clothing and textile goods, brought about the familiar Latin American difficulty where one finds it hard to be a westerner walking through a market of any kind, without there being an expectation that because you are just looking at something, you absolutely want to buy it. Going store by store, we really wanted to browse through their goods but were confronted by insistent owners who would promptly spread out carpet after carpet after carpet in front of us, hardly allowing us to interrupt and explain we were only looking. The more carpets on the floor, the guiltier we felt.

Feeling a little over harassed we made our way to the local market where the stalls, usually bustling and full of fresh produce, were deserted. Across the way, in the plaza of the local church, almost the entire town had gathered to celebrate Dia de Guadalupe; a festival honoring and exonerating the most important Catholic figure in Mexico, the Virgin Mary. As much as we enjoyed seeing the local wares and walking within the quaint and picturesque town of Teotitlan we decided that perhaps it was time to leave the locals to their celebrations.

A sample of the offering made by the local people of fruit and other food that is to be shared amongst the townspeople after the ceremony and dance.

As we turned the corner of the Church and walked down a parallel street, Lindsey’s eye was caught by a beautifully colored woven bag and entered a massive house with a wide courtyard full of woven textiles. I groaned as I heard the owners running down the stairs, realizing they had customers, expecting the usual sales pitch and harassment to buy their products.

Creation of natural dye with finished product

It was to our happy surprise, however, that we were met by Alejandro and his wife, the most openly friendly and accommodating locals that we met in all of our time in Mexico. With constant reminders of “mi casa es tu casa” (my home is your home); we were given a grand tour of their house and workshop. The process of the natural dyes that have been used for thousands of years by the local Oaxacans, originally Zapotecs, was not only explained to us but demonstrated to us with the example of Cochineal. Cochineals are small insects that live in and feed on a species of local cactus. When harvested and dried, they are ground on large pommel stones and reveal a deep crimson red that is then used to create a vibrant dye.

A selection of the colors made from the local plants

Alejandro also showed us how blue is created by collecting the indigo flowers that grow in the local mountains, alongside marigolds that produce the yellows and golds. Alejandro was born in Teotitlan, has studied in the U.S., speaks three languages and was quite a resource of local information, providing us with knowledge on the different shapes and textures used in their textiles and their meanings and inspirations.

With all this information in hand we felt a great deal more inspired and able to make an educated purchase. While looking through their selection we came across a brilliant yellow carpet with an interesting color scheme and design, quite unlike anything we had been shown before. Alejandro was able to tell us the story of the carpet and explained that his nine year old brother who now lives in the States with his family had created this very carpet on his last visit to Mexico under the guidance of himself. Enchanted by the design and its story we happily made our first textile purchase together in Latin America.

A rainbow of freshly spun and dyed brown yarn drying on the balcony

Alejandro and his family, however, were not just interested in our purchase. They welcomed us up to their terrace that overlooked the church plaza and had the best view in town of the festivities. In Teotitlan, the locals have a special tradition amongst the men of the town who perform a story telling dance during the four most important religious festivals of the year. For three years the men train with a master dancer and perform in front of their fellow citizens special dances for each holiday. The dance we were treated to recreates the story of Montezuma (the last true emperor of the Aztecs) meeting Herman Cortes, the Spaniard responsible for the take over and destruction of the native culture and civilization of Mexico.

A beautifully constructed dome on the very highest point of Alejandros home, originally built by his family over a hundred years ago. Each symbol represents an important feature of the surrounding landscape or symbol from their old Zapotec culture. 

From our terrace look-out we were given front row seats to a rarely seen spectacle, and with our new friend Alejandro, we were given new insight into the Mexican culture and psyche. Alejandro was especially enthused as he had recently enlisted to join the next men's dance corps, beginning in 2013. Afterwards, as if he had not already done enough for us, we were invited to a late lunch with the family, prepared and served to us by Alejandro’s mother and grandmother, who also welcomed us with smiles and endless generosity. They also explained their future plans to open a B&B in their house, allowing visitors to experience an intimate and warm respite among some of Oaxacans' finest artisans.

The local men in the tradition dress lining up for the beginning of the Montezuma's dance in the foreground of the church, built by the Spaniards upon their arrival in 1527

Lindsey and I left Teotitlan that day thankful we ignored the drunks at the bus station, feeling higher than cloud nine and blessed that we had again encountered such amazing and friendly people along our travels. It’s these personal encounters with people who want to share their stories and their lives with us that make traveling exactly the experience we want to keep having. This is the reason we do what we do. Thank you Alejandro and many thanks to your brother who provided us with a memento that will remind us of you and your family forever.