Santa Maria de Gaudalupe

Despite all my winged thoughts Blogs just don’t write themselves.  I have an excuse for my tardy typing: here in Oaxaca the days pass like minutes.  This week I have started teaching Te Reo Mäori classes.  I have been surprised at how diligent the kids have been (it helps when you’ve got the principal in the room).  Despite the four hours of intensive Spanish in the morning they seem remarkably fresh and attentive.  If only I could say the same for the teacher! By four in the afternoon my brain feels a bit like the second rate salsa verde I had for dinner last week – a watery liquid with very little substance. They are preparing some writings for their own blogs which we will develop later for a writing competition in NZ.  

Tonight, as I wandered home from the market through the zolcalo, there was so much going on. 

For a city the size of Wellington a weekday night feels more akin to a New Year’s eve party in Auckland. There was a Salsa event going on where old men wore wide brimmed hats and suspenders; their trousers freshly pressed matched their well polished shoes; they only looked slightly less elegant than their female companions. And how they danced – all rhythm and lightfootedness.  A few gringos were making a hash of it, but at least they were braver than I.  Lovers strolled about, occasionally stopping to engage in long passionate kisses.  This you also see in NZ on New Year’s eve (after a few drinks).  Vendors shrouded in balloon forests stood at the fringes, beside children playing chess with one another while wandering minstrels cranked out well worn Mexican favourites for tourists.  This Mexico is a marvellous place.

I hope all the whänau in NZ is well, my heart goes out to all those who are suffering in Canterbury at the moment. I have asked Santa Maria de Guadalupe and she agreed, so please know that she holds you in her heart. Much love. Jaime.