utica avenue: Mas Pequenos

I recently spent the University spring break in Oaxaca, Mexico. The school of architecture has an undergraduate study abroad program which takes a group of students to Oaxaca for a semester. I joined a group of about 7 other professors and architects (and a clinical epidemiologist and nurse who tagged along as spouses to two of my colleagues) to participate in a design symposium and to review the work that our students had been doing for the last few months. The students spend 4 months living, working and studying (and, occasionally, from what I hear, playing) in what was described to me as the cultural heart of Mexico. Oaxaca is one of the 31 states of Mexico and located about an hour south (by plane) of Mexico City. It has been designated as a World Heritage Site by UNESCO and has some remarkable vernacular housing - as well as being one of the key Zapotec and Mixtec sites of Mexico's classic history.

We spent a day in Mexico City - touring some of Luis Barragan's architectural work. I didn't know much about Barragan before the trip, but fell in love with his work. He was one of the most important architects to come out of South America and has been largely unappreciated in terms of his contribution to the contemporary canon. The work (I thought, at least) was simple, elegant and understated, but very carefully detailed and nuanced. The work that I saw (his house and studio, a convent and another private residence) were very beautiful - they looked like very considered and thoughtful work - but also really effortless in the way they were built. I really, really liked his work. It took some time to locate his projects, though - they are tucked away - hidden really - behind the Mexico City's ubiquitous walled streets - which are difficult enough to navigate for gringos to begin with. Mexico City itself is remarkable - 7000 feet above sea level, officially about 20 million people, but unofficially probably closer to 30. We stayed in a little hotel behind the Cathedral in the Zocalo in the Historic District. I was told, on arriving, by our host, Professor L, to observe The Two rules: (A)Bottled Water Only - what does you in is unconsciously rinsing out your toothbrush with tap-water and (B): Toilet paper goes in the basket next to the loo. New plumbing is common, but usually only up until the street. My new clinical epidemiologist friend, Frank, told me, I should try to avoid the amoeba (as in amoebic dysentery), but to hope for the bacteria first, then the parasite, if I were to get sick. I stared at him and bought bottled water.

I ate more fish and seafood than I have in my entire life in these past days. It was good. I admit it. I've been deluding myself for years. However, until anyone I know can cook (My mother and grandmother excluded...of course) the Atun or Pescado like they do in Oaxaca or Mexico City - I'll wait to travel south of the border for my surf - except when mom and grandmom cook South African Shrimps or Salmon). At a dinner in Mexico City, we were serenaded by three elderly Mexican troubadors - belting out a croaky, but nice, version of 'Guadalajara.' We saw some incredible murals in and around Mexico City - including Diego Rivera, Rufino Tamayo and others. Social Realism has yet to make it's way to American Art. We can hope that is does eventually - there really is enough inspirational material here.

The hop to Oaxaca was short - the trip to the airport made easier by the new 2 story highway known as the Pereferico which now punches its way through Mexico City. We arrived late in the evening and stayed at the Hotel Azucenas (excellent digs for anyone traveling to Oaxaca). It's run by Donna. She's Canadian. From Kingston. No kidding. Anyway, we hit it off, I dumped my bags, gingerly removed the salamander from my bedside lamp, chased 'la cucaracha' out of my door (no kidding) and walked to the Zocalo (town square) for some traditional Oaxacan fare. I had the quesadillas, while my more adventurous colleages sampled the fried grasshoppers. I had some Mole (there's an accent on the 'e' in 'Mole' - so it's actually pronounced 'molay.' C'mon people, I would NOT eat a furry burrowing rodent), and some chocolate (pronounced, you guessed it... 'chocolatay' - which is a Oaxacan staple - amazing incidentally - almost as good as my sister in law's 'dessert- that- shall- not- be- named- but- has- something- to- do- with- a- beach...). The Azucenas is a well kept, quiet little hotel with a beautiful courtyard and rooftop terrace where breakfast is served each morning. Holy Mexican wrestler, Batman, but was the coffee GOOD. The rooms are modest, nicely decorated and best of all - there are no televisions or telephones. There is wireless internet but I purposefully left my computer at home. There's also new plumbing at the Azucenas - but only up to the street. They have bottled water behind the counter.

Oaxaca went through some serious political turmoil a few months ago. The current governor is a right-wing dink. Do you know why? First he brutally put down a peaceful demonstration, but then he banned BALLOONS in the Zocalo. BALLOONS. No *&^%. Irrational fear of Latex. I told a colleague of mine this (who is Mexican and a frequent visitor to Oaxaca) and he stared at me blankly like I had a giant sloppy quesadilla stuck to my left nostril. He kept on repeating "No Balloons?' over and over. At any rate, Ruiz (The Governor) told his lackeys to show the striking teachers 'The Heavy Hand.' And boy, did he ever. Not just a 'Heavy' Hand, but a Hand also Clutching a Roll of Quarters in its Clenched Fist. Some quick background: the local teachers are not a part of the federal union and don't get the same pay raises as everyone else does - which are considerably higher for those 'lucky' enough to be in the Federal Union. Oaxacan teachers don't make much to begin with - and they protest every year. They protest each year, set up camp in the Zocalo, pack up and move on shortly after. This year the government sent it thugs and the military (and rumor has it some 'paroled' prisoners')who eventually shot and killed 23 people, after the teachers occupied a radio broadcasting building. This happened in August and September of last year and and decimated Oaxaca's tourism business. Oaxaca's economic infrastructure is based on tourism - 95% of that infrastructure, in fact. It hasn't really recovered since Ruiz cracked down. Many businesses have closed and poverty is high with many people living in barrios. The Oaxacan people are, to boot, among some of the nicest people I have encountered and don't generally want for much. We were encouraged to spend to support the economy. My wife and children are happy with the loot, let me tell you.

We spent about 6 days in Oaxaca. We reviewed the student work, participated in a design education symposium and tried to walk around as much as possible. It is a great city - the buildings are beautiful, brightly colored, diverse and historic. There are simple street-scapes which lead to the most amazing courtyards beyond the building facades. This is a part of the urban and social fabric of the city - homes and businesses are connected by courtyards and beautifully inhabited interior streets and alleys. It's not uncommon to walk right through a shop to a courtyard, down a covered alle-street into a restaurant, which opens up onto another courtyard. I got lost many times (the city is quite labyrinthine) - to my delight, actually, and found some of the more curious, non-tourist oriented parts of Oaxaca.

We visited some of the ancient Zapotec and Mixtec sites in and around Oaxaca - Yagul, Mitla and Monte Alban. I saw the Tule Tree - a 2005 year old tree in a tiny village outside of Mitla. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. It was enormous, over 150 meters in circumference, with a huge canopy. It really is impossible to describe - but I was speechless when I saw it. I would visit Oaxaca again just to see that tree. Okay, to see the tree and for the Chocolate. And seafood.

We got to meet and spend time with many local designers and artists and - perhaps one of the best visits - visited the Basilica di Santo Domingo - a recently restored Dominican Convent in Oaxaca. The restoration architect - Enrique Lastre - gave us the executive tour. It's a beautiful building that has been very carefully restored. All the work was done using 16th century techniques - from formwork to finishes - it is a wonderful building. In years past, our students had their studio space in Santo Domingo and then Ruiz came to power, banned balloons and ticked off the architect of the Restoration who is quite a social activist. Needles to say, Enrique said a few words (quite colourful words, to be sure), annoyed the Head of the Cultural Commission (who is best buddies with No-Balloons/Kill-the-Teachers Ruiz ) and the students were booted out of their sweet studio space. They are now holed up in a little courtyard studio down the street - no doubt lamenting their recent eviction - which also had unbelievable views of the mountains that surround Oaxaca. Those view were spectacular.

Santo Domingo, and the mountains beyond

Santo Domingo's entry courtyard

We met one of the best young designers in Mexico - a young, self-deprecating architect named Daniel Lopez - and saw his most recent building which turned out to be a really nice modernist school. Designed in 3 months, incidentally, and built in 5. I also met an architecture/professor from Buenos Aires. One of my colleagues called him the Argentinian Richard Dreyfuss. He did, actually, look like Richard Dreyfuss. He was very nice and extended a generous invitation to come and visit him in Buenos Aires.

Ahem. I experienced one of the finest cultural experiences in Mexican history (from ancient history to the history currently being generated by the contemporary present). Two words for you all: Lucha Libre. Yes sir. I went to a Mexican Wrestling Match. I bought a mask. It was awesome. We didn't stay for the entire evening (there were some fried grasshoppers with my name on them waiting at a restaurant in the Zocalo), but we caught Mas Pequenos and his amigo take on the evil Puerto-Rican team (my colleagues thought the opposing team were, at first glance from the flag they were carrying, either Liberian or Texan. We're architects. Not geographers... :) ) Mas and his Lucha amigo were Mexican Minor League Champions. Mas Pequenos: Translation: 'More Small.' Yes. That is exactly what I'm talking about - Mas was a little person. A midget. And he wrestled. And was wrestled. And it was great. One of my colleagues took a video - I will try to post it when I can get a copy. It was a great evening - traveling by (I use the word loosely, here) 'taxi' to a seedy little community hall on the outskirts of a Mexican village to see these superstars in action. Something to check off my must-see list.

How about some more pictures?...