Oaxaca, OAX. , Mexico, DEC. 09.
Posts Tagged: locals
4
Dec 09
La Virgen de Juquila
I was still in the sea, watching the sunset, thinking: I could just stay here forever. But we left Puerto Escondido the following day. We decided to make a side trip to Oaxaca city, so we took a bus up the hills to the valley.
On our way there we met these guys



They’re part of a group making their annual pilgrimage to the Sanctuary of the Virgin of Juquila: several days riding from all over Mexico up the hills and many switchbacks to the town of Juquila.



Most of them were riding old school singlespeeds.



This is faith. This is Mexico.
29
Nov 09
Turismo
On our way to Manzanillo we stopped to have a break hiding from the hot sun when this guy approached us. He was spraying for weeds on the side of the road. He asked us where we were coming from and where we’re going, and told us he had been living in LA for four years until a cop caught him without documents and was sent back to Mexico. He wanted to know about New York; he’d always wanted to go there. He was sad.
And then he told us about La Boquita.
We followed the signs to Club Santiago, the road turned into cobble stones, we waved to the security guard and we were inside a luxurious residential area with brand new condos everywhere, big houses and fancy hotels. I wasn’t too sure about this place.
But then the cobble stones turned into sand, and we arrived to a small beautiful beach. A local fisherman riding his bicycle told us we could camp for free anywhere along the beach. So we rode around to check out the lagoon on the other side of the beach, and all the ramadas (beach bars) until in one of them a very nice mexican woman said buenas tardes and offered us an ice cold beer. We had a couple of Estrellas and then she brought us a carnita. She was preparing her friend’s birthday, so we left to set up our campsite.
We spent the afternoon swimming in the sea, writing, drawing, watching the pelicans fly, looking at the horizon… it was hot, mexican kids played in the shore, people came by selling fresh fruit, bread, chips; 3 guys were picking up pebble stones.
I could see the big houses on the opposite side of the bay, cruise ships arriving to the port of Manzanillo, foreign cars drove by behind us every now and then, old couples walked their silly looking dogs, …
We could hear the birthday party getting louder, and then Antonio, a friend of the birthday girl, came to ask us if we wanted tacos. He is from Miramar, he likes riding his mountain bike around and La Boquita is his local beach. He told us about the coral reef, the lagoon, and the people who make a living fishing. He was sad.
This precious little corner of the world is about to disappear. They’re expanding the residential area and building a marina for yatchs.
This is tourism.










































