Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.
Driving a car in Oaxaca has always been dangerous, be it using your own or a rental vehicle (see my earlier article entitled Driving in Oaxaca: Rules of the Road). But with a dramatic change in the law respecting obtaining a driver’s license, it’s now more precarious, and scary, than ever.
Until recently, to obtain a license you had to either take a written test, or pay a small bribe to avoid having to do so. In either case there was no road test and no eye examination. But now the state has done away with virtually all licensing requirements relating to safety: no written test, no road test, no eye test. The new law is advertized as “more secure.” However, the fact of the matter is that drivers, passengers and pedestrians are much less secure on the roads, curbs and sidewalks.
As long as you’re at least 18 years of age you can apply for licensing for two, three or five years. For the longest period, the cost of obtaining a license to drive a car or light truck is 552 pesos (about $42 USD using early 2009, exchange rates). Add a further 66 pesos ($5) and you can obtain a chauffeur’s license, enabling you to drive a tractor trailer. And with a payment of only 375 pesos ($30), you’re off on your Harley Davidson roaming the roads for a half a decade.
Those 16 and 17 years old must produce an original certificate confirming that they’ve taken a driver training course, but naturally producing such a document has nothing to do with how you’ve performed on the road while taking your lessons. If you can’t afford the lessons, or if your road skills are so bad that driving instructors refuse to teach you out of sheer fear for their own lives, all you have to do is wait that extra year or two, until your eighteenth birthday, and then there are virtually no hoops to jump through.
The requirements with which you must comply are:
1) You must be able to sign your name, which of course does not preclude placing your mark (i.e. an “X”) instead;
2) You must produce proof of residence, such as a water, phone or hydro bill;
3) You must have identification in the form of a voter registration card, or in the case of non-Mexicans, a visa and passport;
4) You must have the name and minimal contact information for a next of kin;
5) You must provide fingerprints of all of your digits, but it’s not clear if this requirement means that those missing one or more fingers simply have to ink up those, if any, that they have;
6) You must be able to pose for a photo.
It appears that if you are legally blind, you can still be licensed. You are simply asked if you need eyeglasses to drive, with no mention of the nature or strength of prescription. It appears that you must be able to speak so as to enable you to comply with the fourth requirement noted above, but if you bring along a piece of paper with the name and contact information of your next of kin, or attend with someone assisting you who can speak, this possible prerequisite may not apply at all. And of course if you read lips when being addressed by the application officer, the ability to hear becomes irrelevant. It appears that you must have at least one arm, or portion thereof enabling you to sign, but there is no suggestion that you must have a lower limb.
So why is it so dangerous for those of us driving in Oaxaca with years of experience and not a single traffic violation on our record? Think about it; the lane to your left could be occupied by a fully licensed sixteen-year-old blind youth who has rarely been behind the wheel or even a passenger in a car, trying to make a right hand turn in his three ton cube van, all the while oblivious to you honking your horn in sheer fright.
Alvin Starkman has a Masters in anthropology and law degree from Osgoode Hall Law School. Now a resident of Oaxaca, Alvin writes, takes couples and families to the sights, and owns Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ), a unique Oaxaca bed and breakfast experience, providing Oaxaca accommodations which combine the comfort and service of Oaxaca hotels with the personal touch of quaint country inn style lodging.
1/29/2009
12/28/2008
Consumer protection in Oaxaca, Mexico: a case study
Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.
Procuraduría Federal del Consumidor (PROFECO), Mexico’s Federal Office of Fair Trading, is the closest you can get to an American or Canadian style government administered consumer protection bureau and mediation facility. Its Oaxaca regional office is run in a relatively swift and efficient manner, meaning that it is extremely user friendly from the perspective of an expat seeking recourse against trades and businesses located both in the state and further abroad. Naturally, though, it’s subject to limitations, and to idiosyncrasies to which we are not accustomed.
I purchased a hot water heater made by Hidro Electrica, SA de CV (HESA), which to my amazement came with an eight-year limited warranty. Usually in Oaxaca one buys domestically produced or assembled goods with a 30 day guarantee. In the odd case it’s for three months (extended warranties are rarely available, since manufacturers and insurers are aware of the lack of adequate quality control in Mexican production). Typically your widget stops widgeting within a week after expiry date … be it a washing machine, microwave, TV, or long-life bulb.
After about a year one side of the dual-tank HESA boiler sprang a leak, and then a couple of months later the other side followed suit. After six months and several phone calls to my retailer, Tubos y Conexiones, the HESA authorized repairman arrived with two pairs of replacement tanks, neither of which matched the tanks which came with the unit I had purchased. “Don’t worry,” Roberto assured. “I’ll bring you the right tanks when they’re in stock, so just choose one of these two sets for the time being so your heater will at least function.”
Whenever you sign anything, if you’re not entirely satisfied with the service provided or product received, qualify your acknowledgment. Doing so assists when availing yourself of the resources of PROFECO. “Temporary solution pending the arrival of the elite stainless steel tanks,” I noted on the work order. Anything in writing appears to be taken as gospel in Oaxaca, therefore regarded as almost irrefutable evidence. Just ask anyone who’s been held in jail for two years pending trial, based on little more than newspaper clippings alleging criminal activity.
Over the course of the next year I periodically attended at Tubos y Conexiones, each time pleading with my contact person, Boneque the branch manager, to help me get the proper tanks before the replacements went awry. Boneque was in fact cooperative, so much so that he admitted to me that the HESA service department had become a real pain, with complaints and lack of their resolution mounting. Hilda, HESA’s Oaxaca representative, had left the company, and serviceman Roberto was no longer accepting work from the manufacturer.
Three or four emails to the HESA service department went unanswered, as did the message left at HESA for its chief technician. Hearing “Mr. Levin will return your call in 15 minutes,” by this time did not instill the confidence in the company I had been seeking.
With my bill of sale and warranty booklet, copies of emails, the qualified work order acknowledgement, and notes of every communication or attempt at reaching a resolution all in hand, I attended at the offices of a friend, litigator Lic. Edna Franco: “Don’t worry about my fee Alvin. My concern is that on a claim worth less than 15,000 pesos, the out-of-pockets will kill you. Go to PROFECO … that’s what I tell all my clients to do before they retain me.”
Oaxaca doesn’t have a small claims court system, which means that regardless of the peso value of your claim your costs will be the same, subject to working out a deal with your lawyer for a reduced fee. Edna advised me that proceeding through the court system on your own, even for a former Canadian litigation lawyer, is an almost insurmountable task. Hence, PROFECO is the way to go, subject to your fact situation meeting its mandate and guidelines, and your willingness to use a government-run mediation facility.
The Oaxaca PROFECO offices are well staffed, yet used by a relatively modest percentage of the populace, meaning that compared to government offices of transportation, immigration and taxation for example, they are a welcomed and expedient breath of fresh air. Intake reviews your documentation and advises what if anything is lacking, and how many copies are required. Your primary advisor then reviews your paperwork, asks for clarification, and prepares a claim package. Feel free to supplement the information she selects to append to your claim, by suggesting the inclusion of any additional documentation you might have. Remember that as competent and seemingly helpful as she might appear, she is nevertheless a Oaxacan civil servant: “Is it okay if we also attach copies of these notes I made over the past year?,” I queried. More hard evidence.
My initial September 11, 2008, attendance terminated with a hearing date I negotiated to meet my schedule, October 10, 2008. “You know,” advised Aurea Guzman Palacios, “you should also name your retailer, Tubos y Conexiones, as a respondent, even though it seems like it didn’t do anything wrong.” I wouldn’t have advised a client with a legal dispute any differently!
“We’ll look after serving them, but remember to make sure you’re here at 10 am sharp on the October 10th.” Even in Toronto we’re accustomed to giving 15 minutes grace, so how could it possibly be that Oaxaca, government to boot, could possibly adhere to a more stringent and exacting timetable?
Service of the proceeding and notice of the date is effected by the regional PROFECO office where the company carries on business. In the case of HESA, this meant in the State of Mexico.
A Tubos y Conexiones representative attended, arriving shortly before the appointed hour. HESA was a no show. The PROFECO mediator, Javier, called the Estado de México PROFECO process server, and was advised that HESA was not served because company employees were on strike and the factory was shut down. The mediator was skeptical, indicating to me that sometimes federal government employees forget to do their jobs, or simply can’t be bothered and make up stories. But in this case we should give them the benefit of the doubt and simply ask them to once again try to serve the documentation with a fresh return date, a month down the road. November 10th was set for the new appointment, with more documentation drafted, the preamble including the circumstances of the adjournment.
Before conceding that PROFECO was unable to serve HESA, in the presence of Javier the conciliator and Engineer Octavio the Tubos representative, I called the HESA offices. Lorena Torres, receptionist, advised me that the employees were not on strike, nor had they been in the recent past, and that the company was functioning as normal. So much for the veracity of the State of Mexico PROFECO process server.
PROFECO levies a fine against a company for each missed appointment, the amount increasing with each failed attendance. Should HESA fail to attend the next date, after having received notice, the fine would be 172.79 pesos, making it hardly a compelling reason for the company to send someone from head office.
By the time November 10th had arrived, my hot water heater, wrong new tanks still in place, had once again sprung a leak, albeit a small one. The main implication is that the dripping water puts out the pilot from time to time, so unless you’re constantly checking, you never know when your shower will be hot or cold.
Neither HESA nor Tubos attended on the new date for the proceeding. The PROFECO mediator checked on his computer, and with the State of Mexico regional office, once again being led to believe that HESA was on strike. And once again I called HESA and confirmed that business was operating as normal, without strike. “Don Alvin,” Javier assured, “we’ll try to serve HESA once more, and hopefully this time the process server’s supervisor will have a word with him and tell him that there is no strike.” More importantly, the conciliator decided to levy a 3,000 peso fine against Tubos for not sending its representative to this second meeting.
I didn’t ask why the fine for Tubos was so steep, simply stunned that my ally was being dinged with a sizeable stipend while the scoundrel was getting off unscathed because it ostensibly had no notice of the proceeding. “I think we should be trying to convince Tubos that it should share responsibility, and maybe this fine will be what it needs to convince it to come to the table and acknowledge that you were relying on the judgment of its salesperson when you decided to buy a HESA product.” Javier was treating me with the utmost respect (i.e. “Don Alvin”), giving me advice, and being pro-active in his approach to the matter. “Let’s give them a bit more than a month to be served, just to be safe. How about December 15th?”
On December 15th, Engineer Octavio once again attended, but no one from HESA. This time PROFECO had a statement from its process server stating that indeed HESA was on strike, all very strange since there has not been any such indication on the internet. “It could be that some company employees are striking, and HESA is able to use this as a way to avoid service of legal documents for the entire company,” Javier surmised. Only PROFECO is permitted to effect service of PROFECO documents, so my offer to have a friend in Mexico City attend at HESA with the papers was rejected.
I decided enough was enough, and if I could exact upwards of the 3,000 peso fine from Tubos, and buy a new, alternate brand product, that would be the best, at least in terms of finishing my business with PROFECO. I could continue to pursue HESA, but only in court since the PROFECO proceeding would be closed out. We adjourned until the 17th, the plan being that in the interim I would attend at Tubos, select a comparable product of another manufacturer, and be given a 2,500 peso credit.
As long as PROFECO does not register a fine with a companion governmental branch, presumably finance or collections, the amount or any portion thereof can be applied to a comprehensive resolution as part of a negotiated settlement. PROFECO doesn’t otherwise receive the fine amount, nor does the consumer. The paperwork which reflects the levying of a fine can be redrafted with no mention of a fine. Literally, one branch of government does not know what the other branch has done.
I selected an alternate brand, Delta, with equivalent specifications and a six-year warranty, for a net cost to me of 9,800.25 pesos. Three years earlier I had paid 11,736 pesos for the HESA hot water heater. Given Mexico’s rate of inflation, I didn’t do too badly. Although I have released Tubos y Conexiones from any further obligation to me, I have preserved the right to proceed in court against HESA, for all losses including the cost of my new Delta boiler. Economically feasible or not, that’s the way I intend to go.
PROFECO has its limitations, especially since its power to force and enforce resolutions in this type of consumer dispute are restricted. However, it does provide an important and valuable alternate means of dispute resolution, attractive for a number of reasons:
1) The system works fast, much more so than that to which we are accustomed in Canada and the US;
2) There is no cost to the consumer;
3) The staff are helpful, obviously well trained, and willing to render legal or quasi-legal advice … although not necessarily correct advice, it’s nevertheless helpful for foreigners, often with limited networks otherwise able to provide counsel;
4) Its mediators appear to have good mediation skills and be sincerely motivated to bring parties together with a view to achieving resolutions in a cost-effective and sensible fashion.
Alvin Starkman has a Masters in anthropology and law degree from Osgoode Hall Law School. Now a resident of Oaxaca, Alvin writes, takes tours to the sights, and owns Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ), a unique Oaxaca bed and breakfast experience, providing Oaxaca accommodations which combine the comfort and service of Oaxaca hotels with the personal touch of quaint country inn style lodging.
Procuraduría Federal del Consumidor (PROFECO), Mexico’s Federal Office of Fair Trading, is the closest you can get to an American or Canadian style government administered consumer protection bureau and mediation facility. Its Oaxaca regional office is run in a relatively swift and efficient manner, meaning that it is extremely user friendly from the perspective of an expat seeking recourse against trades and businesses located both in the state and further abroad. Naturally, though, it’s subject to limitations, and to idiosyncrasies to which we are not accustomed.
I purchased a hot water heater made by Hidro Electrica, SA de CV (HESA), which to my amazement came with an eight-year limited warranty. Usually in Oaxaca one buys domestically produced or assembled goods with a 30 day guarantee. In the odd case it’s for three months (extended warranties are rarely available, since manufacturers and insurers are aware of the lack of adequate quality control in Mexican production). Typically your widget stops widgeting within a week after expiry date … be it a washing machine, microwave, TV, or long-life bulb.
After about a year one side of the dual-tank HESA boiler sprang a leak, and then a couple of months later the other side followed suit. After six months and several phone calls to my retailer, Tubos y Conexiones, the HESA authorized repairman arrived with two pairs of replacement tanks, neither of which matched the tanks which came with the unit I had purchased. “Don’t worry,” Roberto assured. “I’ll bring you the right tanks when they’re in stock, so just choose one of these two sets for the time being so your heater will at least function.”
Whenever you sign anything, if you’re not entirely satisfied with the service provided or product received, qualify your acknowledgment. Doing so assists when availing yourself of the resources of PROFECO. “Temporary solution pending the arrival of the elite stainless steel tanks,” I noted on the work order. Anything in writing appears to be taken as gospel in Oaxaca, therefore regarded as almost irrefutable evidence. Just ask anyone who’s been held in jail for two years pending trial, based on little more than newspaper clippings alleging criminal activity.
Over the course of the next year I periodically attended at Tubos y Conexiones, each time pleading with my contact person, Boneque the branch manager, to help me get the proper tanks before the replacements went awry. Boneque was in fact cooperative, so much so that he admitted to me that the HESA service department had become a real pain, with complaints and lack of their resolution mounting. Hilda, HESA’s Oaxaca representative, had left the company, and serviceman Roberto was no longer accepting work from the manufacturer.
Three or four emails to the HESA service department went unanswered, as did the message left at HESA for its chief technician. Hearing “Mr. Levin will return your call in 15 minutes,” by this time did not instill the confidence in the company I had been seeking.
With my bill of sale and warranty booklet, copies of emails, the qualified work order acknowledgement, and notes of every communication or attempt at reaching a resolution all in hand, I attended at the offices of a friend, litigator Lic. Edna Franco: “Don’t worry about my fee Alvin. My concern is that on a claim worth less than 15,000 pesos, the out-of-pockets will kill you. Go to PROFECO … that’s what I tell all my clients to do before they retain me.”
Oaxaca doesn’t have a small claims court system, which means that regardless of the peso value of your claim your costs will be the same, subject to working out a deal with your lawyer for a reduced fee. Edna advised me that proceeding through the court system on your own, even for a former Canadian litigation lawyer, is an almost insurmountable task. Hence, PROFECO is the way to go, subject to your fact situation meeting its mandate and guidelines, and your willingness to use a government-run mediation facility.
The Oaxaca PROFECO offices are well staffed, yet used by a relatively modest percentage of the populace, meaning that compared to government offices of transportation, immigration and taxation for example, they are a welcomed and expedient breath of fresh air. Intake reviews your documentation and advises what if anything is lacking, and how many copies are required. Your primary advisor then reviews your paperwork, asks for clarification, and prepares a claim package. Feel free to supplement the information she selects to append to your claim, by suggesting the inclusion of any additional documentation you might have. Remember that as competent and seemingly helpful as she might appear, she is nevertheless a Oaxacan civil servant: “Is it okay if we also attach copies of these notes I made over the past year?,” I queried. More hard evidence.
My initial September 11, 2008, attendance terminated with a hearing date I negotiated to meet my schedule, October 10, 2008. “You know,” advised Aurea Guzman Palacios, “you should also name your retailer, Tubos y Conexiones, as a respondent, even though it seems like it didn’t do anything wrong.” I wouldn’t have advised a client with a legal dispute any differently!
“We’ll look after serving them, but remember to make sure you’re here at 10 am sharp on the October 10th.” Even in Toronto we’re accustomed to giving 15 minutes grace, so how could it possibly be that Oaxaca, government to boot, could possibly adhere to a more stringent and exacting timetable?
Service of the proceeding and notice of the date is effected by the regional PROFECO office where the company carries on business. In the case of HESA, this meant in the State of Mexico.
A Tubos y Conexiones representative attended, arriving shortly before the appointed hour. HESA was a no show. The PROFECO mediator, Javier, called the Estado de México PROFECO process server, and was advised that HESA was not served because company employees were on strike and the factory was shut down. The mediator was skeptical, indicating to me that sometimes federal government employees forget to do their jobs, or simply can’t be bothered and make up stories. But in this case we should give them the benefit of the doubt and simply ask them to once again try to serve the documentation with a fresh return date, a month down the road. November 10th was set for the new appointment, with more documentation drafted, the preamble including the circumstances of the adjournment.
Before conceding that PROFECO was unable to serve HESA, in the presence of Javier the conciliator and Engineer Octavio the Tubos representative, I called the HESA offices. Lorena Torres, receptionist, advised me that the employees were not on strike, nor had they been in the recent past, and that the company was functioning as normal. So much for the veracity of the State of Mexico PROFECO process server.
PROFECO levies a fine against a company for each missed appointment, the amount increasing with each failed attendance. Should HESA fail to attend the next date, after having received notice, the fine would be 172.79 pesos, making it hardly a compelling reason for the company to send someone from head office.
By the time November 10th had arrived, my hot water heater, wrong new tanks still in place, had once again sprung a leak, albeit a small one. The main implication is that the dripping water puts out the pilot from time to time, so unless you’re constantly checking, you never know when your shower will be hot or cold.
Neither HESA nor Tubos attended on the new date for the proceeding. The PROFECO mediator checked on his computer, and with the State of Mexico regional office, once again being led to believe that HESA was on strike. And once again I called HESA and confirmed that business was operating as normal, without strike. “Don Alvin,” Javier assured, “we’ll try to serve HESA once more, and hopefully this time the process server’s supervisor will have a word with him and tell him that there is no strike.” More importantly, the conciliator decided to levy a 3,000 peso fine against Tubos for not sending its representative to this second meeting.
I didn’t ask why the fine for Tubos was so steep, simply stunned that my ally was being dinged with a sizeable stipend while the scoundrel was getting off unscathed because it ostensibly had no notice of the proceeding. “I think we should be trying to convince Tubos that it should share responsibility, and maybe this fine will be what it needs to convince it to come to the table and acknowledge that you were relying on the judgment of its salesperson when you decided to buy a HESA product.” Javier was treating me with the utmost respect (i.e. “Don Alvin”), giving me advice, and being pro-active in his approach to the matter. “Let’s give them a bit more than a month to be served, just to be safe. How about December 15th?”
On December 15th, Engineer Octavio once again attended, but no one from HESA. This time PROFECO had a statement from its process server stating that indeed HESA was on strike, all very strange since there has not been any such indication on the internet. “It could be that some company employees are striking, and HESA is able to use this as a way to avoid service of legal documents for the entire company,” Javier surmised. Only PROFECO is permitted to effect service of PROFECO documents, so my offer to have a friend in Mexico City attend at HESA with the papers was rejected.
I decided enough was enough, and if I could exact upwards of the 3,000 peso fine from Tubos, and buy a new, alternate brand product, that would be the best, at least in terms of finishing my business with PROFECO. I could continue to pursue HESA, but only in court since the PROFECO proceeding would be closed out. We adjourned until the 17th, the plan being that in the interim I would attend at Tubos, select a comparable product of another manufacturer, and be given a 2,500 peso credit.
As long as PROFECO does not register a fine with a companion governmental branch, presumably finance or collections, the amount or any portion thereof can be applied to a comprehensive resolution as part of a negotiated settlement. PROFECO doesn’t otherwise receive the fine amount, nor does the consumer. The paperwork which reflects the levying of a fine can be redrafted with no mention of a fine. Literally, one branch of government does not know what the other branch has done.
I selected an alternate brand, Delta, with equivalent specifications and a six-year warranty, for a net cost to me of 9,800.25 pesos. Three years earlier I had paid 11,736 pesos for the HESA hot water heater. Given Mexico’s rate of inflation, I didn’t do too badly. Although I have released Tubos y Conexiones from any further obligation to me, I have preserved the right to proceed in court against HESA, for all losses including the cost of my new Delta boiler. Economically feasible or not, that’s the way I intend to go.
PROFECO has its limitations, especially since its power to force and enforce resolutions in this type of consumer dispute are restricted. However, it does provide an important and valuable alternate means of dispute resolution, attractive for a number of reasons:
1) The system works fast, much more so than that to which we are accustomed in Canada and the US;
2) There is no cost to the consumer;
3) The staff are helpful, obviously well trained, and willing to render legal or quasi-legal advice … although not necessarily correct advice, it’s nevertheless helpful for foreigners, often with limited networks otherwise able to provide counsel;
4) Its mediators appear to have good mediation skills and be sincerely motivated to bring parties together with a view to achieving resolutions in a cost-effective and sensible fashion.
Alvin Starkman has a Masters in anthropology and law degree from Osgoode Hall Law School. Now a resident of Oaxaca, Alvin writes, takes tours to the sights, and owns Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ), a unique Oaxaca bed and breakfast experience, providing Oaxaca accommodations which combine the comfort and service of Oaxaca hotels with the personal touch of quaint country inn style lodging.
12/21/2008
Day of the Dead 2008 at Casa de las Bugambilias B&B
We built a beautiful altar between guests and staff. After 2 1/2 hours of hard work!It's always a joy to share our customs.
Casa de las Bugambilias B&B www.lasbugambilias.com
12/16/2008
Art Openning at Casa de las Bugambilias B&B and La Olla Restaurant
Twas the Gallery Night before Christmas!
Casa de las Bugambilias B&B
AND
La Olla Restaurant
AND
La Olla Restaurant
Where local art is exposed
Featuring:
Lisa Ciccote & Studio Oaxaca
"Arte en Tapetes"
Aurora Cabrera Watercolors
Featuring:
Lisa Ciccote & Studio Oaxaca
"Arte en Tapetes"
Aurora Cabrera Watercolors
"Botánica"
Thursday, December 19th
6:30pm – 9:00pm
Enjoy food and refreshments provided by La Olla Restaurant, while we expose
some of the local art and artists hiding in our community!
Reforma 402, CENTRO
951.5161165 - lasbugambilias.com
Oaxaca de Juárez, Oaxaca, México
Oaxaca de Juárez, Oaxaca, México
11/24/2008
A primer on the politics of socializing in Oaxaca
A primer on the politics of socializing in Oaxaca
Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.
It’s been said that the reason most Oaxacans hold down two jobs is that they need one to meet the financial demands of their day-to-day lives, and the other to attend to their social obligations. While at first blush such a statement seems if not incomprehensible then certainly exaggerated, after careful analysis within the context of how the lives of most expats in the city are expected to unfold as compared to their collective existence in the US or Canada, one finds a clear understanding and the truth of the proposition. And it goes a long way to answering the oft posed question “what do you mean you don’t have time to run your daily errands for god’s sake, you’re retired.”
Let’s say that the average age of foreign born retirees in the city is early 60’s (we tend to not wait until we’ve had heart attacks or been diagnosed with cancer to smarten up), and in our previous lives we worked either as professionals or as self-employed business persons, usually about 6 days or 70 hours a week for most of our adult lives. We looked for ways to get out of social obligations, too tired at week’s end to endure yet another family gathering, and there were never that many in any event, what with smaller families and a priority placed upon saving for retirement rather than spending by, as Horace once proposed, picking the flower of the day. Inviting another couple over or going out for dinner was the order of the day, and we did it perhaps twice a month. For the rest of our leisure time it was usually too much trouble to drive downtown to the theater or for gallery openings. We lead an insular nuclear family existence by and large, acceptable according to North American standards, in particular for those in northern climates who loathed stepping outside from November through March. After so many years of living for our children, by the time it was no longer necessary to do so we’d already been programmed to that lifestyle.
The Oaxacan way of life is the polar opposite of the Canadian and American experience. Not only do families still tend to be larger, but through compadrazgo (a type of fictive kinship whereby one extends the size of his family through the appointment of usually non-blood godparents at a broad range of rites of passage such as first communion, baptism, when a girl turns 15 [quince años], wedding, graduation, and so on) the number of compadres or extended family members one has conceivably continues to grow for decades, exponentially. Youth maintain an uncanny level of respect for the elderly. Inter-generational social gatherings are the rule rather than the exception, with entire families being invited to, for example anniversary and birthday parties of frequently even non-relatives. Thus through compadrazgo the number of social obligations increases, and with the expectation that entire families will attend, functions tend to be large in terms of the number of individuals present.
With respect to birthdays, often people are not actually “invited,” but rather there is an assumption that dates have been diarized, with the expectation that those in one’s loosely based social network will simply show up. While of late lifestyle has changed somewhat for the middle classes in terms of getting together with another couple or two for dinner without a formal reason for so doing, for most this is not yet the norm, and socializing occurs through celebrations only…all in all on a much more frequent basis than is the case with the “new generation.” With an extremely relaxed set of rules respecting attire for almost all functions given the diversity in terms of socio-economic classes of invitees, one is able to flit from a country birthday party to an urban wedding and vice versa with little if any concern with appropriate dress.
For the more formal affairs such as nuptials of urbanites, where invitations are in fact expected, they are hand-delivered no more than about 10 days in advance of the date. The mail is slow and unreliable, and too much advance warning means people might forget. Along with the invitation is a small “admittance ticket” indicating the number of attendees which are to be let in at the door. Not much notice is taken if 6 arrive to fill the complement of guests permitted and one or more were not those specifically identified on the invitation. It’s the number which is the main feature of the invitation, and often specific individuals are not named, but rather “y familia,” which effectively has no bounds in terms of which members should constitute the family. For functions in towns or villages, be they weddings, anniversaries, quince años, or local religious or secular celebrations, where no invitations are provided, one can attend with any number of friends or relatives, and additional tables are simply set up as guests arrive, this likely eventuality having been contemplated by the hosts in advance in terms of additional tables and chairs and sufficient quantity of food on hand.
Before focusing on foreign residents and social gatherings, let’s first deal with the change in lifestyle from a general perspective. You’re no longer too tired every evening or either contemplating or working on pending crises or commitments. Used to be you were exhausted after work on Friday, ran household chores on Saturday afternoon, were able to get out for 3 – 4 hours Saturday night, then did office work on Sunday afternoon and were reluctant to go out that evening, having to get an early start Monday morning. Everything seemed like a chore, especially when it meant fighting traffic for upwards of an hour or so to get downtown and then again to return home. Even the highway traffic to get to the mall was often too much of a bother. Here in Oaxaca, weekdays, weeknights and weekends there is a plethora of cultural events no more than a 10 – 15 minute drive from where you live in the city, generally boasting free or nominal admission. You’re paying, across the board, about 50% of what you’d been accustomed to spending to live north of the border. It’s never too cold and rarely too rainy or too hot. While it’s still true that you’re only as happy as your most unhappy child, at least to some extent with your progeny out of sight they’re more likely to be, at least more often, out of mind.
What to do with that time, energy and additional disposable income gets resolved in short order, as long as you spread your wings, learn a bit of Spanish, do not surround yourself with expats most of your waking hours and instead interact with native born shopkeepers, neighbors, service professionals, tradespeople and artisans in the villages. That is not to say you should live your rejuvenated life with your nose in the air shunning interaction with your fellow foreigners, but rather walk a healthy line. Be amenable to, at least when occasions present themselves, adapting to Oaxacan hours, meaning having comida (lunch) between 2:30 and 4:30 and cena (dinner) after 9. With your new-found potential for changing old patterns there is no rational reason for not attempting to do so.
What’s there to be political about in terms of socializing, one might reasonably ask. Accepting the foregoing assumptions apply to you, and given your ability and willingness to change old patterns given that the impediments for so doing have effectively disappeared, you must still take steps to “fit in.” Growing up in the western world you gradually learned from your parents, peers, educators and by mere osmosis about socializing mores. Without those decades and a support system behind you, as a recent transplantee a bit of assistance might just be the order of the day. Hence, three areas of concrete advice for when attending social functions, with additional assistance thrown in for good measure for when it’s your turn to be host:
TIME:
Some Oaxacans are punctual but most are not. Being invited for comida without a time specification means arriving anytime between 2:30 and 4, or thereabouts. Ask what time, naturally, but doing so doesn’t necessarily equate with an expectation that you’ll arrive around that time. Birthday comidas in particular, especially in the country, often meld nicely into the evening. If there’s hired entertainment for such functions, at times it won’t even begin until 5 or 6…but then again sometimes it will be over by then. Rarely if even will a cena begin before 8:30. Depending on patterns of alcohol consumption, dinner can extend until 2 - 4 the next morning. This means that arrival time can conceivably be up until perhaps 11, which leads to a general expectation that you’ll attend the cena after you’ve been to another social obligation for that same night. It’s often no excuse to apologize by saying you already have another commitment. If it’s a wedding or quince años, there’s usually an expectation all round of punctuality, but wandering in “late” won’t be looked down upon. There just isn’t that concern or western obsession with getting there “on time,”…most of the time. If you’re throwing a dinner party, knowing your guests’ pattern or perception of punctuality certainly assists. For example, if you want everyone to be there by 9:30 to sit down after drinks and snacks, you can tell some friends to be there at that hour, and others at 8:30. It might just work out perfectly according to your western notion of planning…but probably not, and in fact does a disservice to any wish you might have to alter your temporal worldview, in any event a most difficult goal to attain.
ATTIRE:
A jacket and tie is never absolutely necessary anywhere. Even at the most formal of functions there will be attendees dressed casually according to our imported standards, as their abilities dictate, yet neat and clean. Often middle and upper class men’s attire consists of slacks, collared shirt and leather jacket. It’s not unreasonable to expect foreigners to dress “up,” especially at a high end wedding or quince años, but don’t do the opposite to the extreme, anywhere. Jeans and a t-shirt show a lack of respect. Err on the side of formality. However, consider your surroundings. You can get away with casual clothing in the country at all times. As much as it’s obvious you’re a “güero,” you still don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb dressing too formal. Women: write to my wife for advice. She’s the one always on my case.
GIFTS:
Because many people attending social events still bring gifts which are shrink-wrapped with clear plastic onto a piece of hard board, after you have a couple of functions under your belt you’ll be able to discern what’s an appropriate gift from whom, since you will have seen people walking into parties with the contents of their gifts in clear view. You can also get a pretty good idea of the most popular gifts by checking the range of pre-wrapped items in store windows or in the housewares and appliances sections of supermarkets and departments stores. But it’s practically guaranteed that when it comes to receiving presents at your own large celebration, you’ll be in for some surprises. The most shocked we’ve been was at my wife’s fiftieth when a well known political appointee gave her a pair of plastic earrings. Livestock is frequently given at rural weddings, as are sheets, lamps, blenders, coffee makers, dishes, pots and pans, etc. Liquor, including mezcal both labeled and unmarked multi-liter bottles of small-operation production, is an acceptable and appreciated gift under certain circumstances. With jewelry it’s hard to go wrong. The most acceptable etiquette dictates that you bring your gift with you to the function. In fact at weddings and quince años the presentation of gifts is usually a formal ceremony complete with receiving line. But don’t expect a thank you note because it will never appear. In fact even an acknowledgement at some future time of the gift you’ve given is rarely forth-coming. However there’s nothing wrong with you showing your appreciation with a brief call if you are so inclined. Some behaviors not traditionally practiced in southern Mexico are indeed appreciated.
Rites of passage provide both an excuse for socializing and facilitate a primary means by which to reciprocate, the latter exemplifying how one can and is expected to kill 200 or more birds with one stone. But just remember the double corollary of the foregoing adage when residing in Oaxaca…you’re footing the bill for throwing those bashes, and when invited to 200 such functions, gifts are required for each one. You may just wind up coming out of retirement, having really come of age in Oaxaca.
Alvin and Arlene Starkman are passionate about Oaxaca. They endeavor to retain their reputation as proprietors of one of the most popular Oaxaca bed and breakfasts, Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ). Casa Machaya, a founding member of the Oaxaca Bed and Breakfast Association, combines the attributes of quality Oaxaca hotels, with the characteristics of a more progressive and personalized Oaxaca lodging style: owners are on site 24 / 7 (it’s your accommodations … and our home), always available to guests as their personal resources, and willing to go that little bit extra to ensure value-added service.
Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.
It’s been said that the reason most Oaxacans hold down two jobs is that they need one to meet the financial demands of their day-to-day lives, and the other to attend to their social obligations. While at first blush such a statement seems if not incomprehensible then certainly exaggerated, after careful analysis within the context of how the lives of most expats in the city are expected to unfold as compared to their collective existence in the US or Canada, one finds a clear understanding and the truth of the proposition. And it goes a long way to answering the oft posed question “what do you mean you don’t have time to run your daily errands for god’s sake, you’re retired.”
Let’s say that the average age of foreign born retirees in the city is early 60’s (we tend to not wait until we’ve had heart attacks or been diagnosed with cancer to smarten up), and in our previous lives we worked either as professionals or as self-employed business persons, usually about 6 days or 70 hours a week for most of our adult lives. We looked for ways to get out of social obligations, too tired at week’s end to endure yet another family gathering, and there were never that many in any event, what with smaller families and a priority placed upon saving for retirement rather than spending by, as Horace once proposed, picking the flower of the day. Inviting another couple over or going out for dinner was the order of the day, and we did it perhaps twice a month. For the rest of our leisure time it was usually too much trouble to drive downtown to the theater or for gallery openings. We lead an insular nuclear family existence by and large, acceptable according to North American standards, in particular for those in northern climates who loathed stepping outside from November through March. After so many years of living for our children, by the time it was no longer necessary to do so we’d already been programmed to that lifestyle.
The Oaxacan way of life is the polar opposite of the Canadian and American experience. Not only do families still tend to be larger, but through compadrazgo (a type of fictive kinship whereby one extends the size of his family through the appointment of usually non-blood godparents at a broad range of rites of passage such as first communion, baptism, when a girl turns 15 [quince años], wedding, graduation, and so on) the number of compadres or extended family members one has conceivably continues to grow for decades, exponentially. Youth maintain an uncanny level of respect for the elderly. Inter-generational social gatherings are the rule rather than the exception, with entire families being invited to, for example anniversary and birthday parties of frequently even non-relatives. Thus through compadrazgo the number of social obligations increases, and with the expectation that entire families will attend, functions tend to be large in terms of the number of individuals present.
With respect to birthdays, often people are not actually “invited,” but rather there is an assumption that dates have been diarized, with the expectation that those in one’s loosely based social network will simply show up. While of late lifestyle has changed somewhat for the middle classes in terms of getting together with another couple or two for dinner without a formal reason for so doing, for most this is not yet the norm, and socializing occurs through celebrations only…all in all on a much more frequent basis than is the case with the “new generation.” With an extremely relaxed set of rules respecting attire for almost all functions given the diversity in terms of socio-economic classes of invitees, one is able to flit from a country birthday party to an urban wedding and vice versa with little if any concern with appropriate dress.
For the more formal affairs such as nuptials of urbanites, where invitations are in fact expected, they are hand-delivered no more than about 10 days in advance of the date. The mail is slow and unreliable, and too much advance warning means people might forget. Along with the invitation is a small “admittance ticket” indicating the number of attendees which are to be let in at the door. Not much notice is taken if 6 arrive to fill the complement of guests permitted and one or more were not those specifically identified on the invitation. It’s the number which is the main feature of the invitation, and often specific individuals are not named, but rather “y familia,” which effectively has no bounds in terms of which members should constitute the family. For functions in towns or villages, be they weddings, anniversaries, quince años, or local religious or secular celebrations, where no invitations are provided, one can attend with any number of friends or relatives, and additional tables are simply set up as guests arrive, this likely eventuality having been contemplated by the hosts in advance in terms of additional tables and chairs and sufficient quantity of food on hand.
Before focusing on foreign residents and social gatherings, let’s first deal with the change in lifestyle from a general perspective. You’re no longer too tired every evening or either contemplating or working on pending crises or commitments. Used to be you were exhausted after work on Friday, ran household chores on Saturday afternoon, were able to get out for 3 – 4 hours Saturday night, then did office work on Sunday afternoon and were reluctant to go out that evening, having to get an early start Monday morning. Everything seemed like a chore, especially when it meant fighting traffic for upwards of an hour or so to get downtown and then again to return home. Even the highway traffic to get to the mall was often too much of a bother. Here in Oaxaca, weekdays, weeknights and weekends there is a plethora of cultural events no more than a 10 – 15 minute drive from where you live in the city, generally boasting free or nominal admission. You’re paying, across the board, about 50% of what you’d been accustomed to spending to live north of the border. It’s never too cold and rarely too rainy or too hot. While it’s still true that you’re only as happy as your most unhappy child, at least to some extent with your progeny out of sight they’re more likely to be, at least more often, out of mind.
What to do with that time, energy and additional disposable income gets resolved in short order, as long as you spread your wings, learn a bit of Spanish, do not surround yourself with expats most of your waking hours and instead interact with native born shopkeepers, neighbors, service professionals, tradespeople and artisans in the villages. That is not to say you should live your rejuvenated life with your nose in the air shunning interaction with your fellow foreigners, but rather walk a healthy line. Be amenable to, at least when occasions present themselves, adapting to Oaxacan hours, meaning having comida (lunch) between 2:30 and 4:30 and cena (dinner) after 9. With your new-found potential for changing old patterns there is no rational reason for not attempting to do so.
What’s there to be political about in terms of socializing, one might reasonably ask. Accepting the foregoing assumptions apply to you, and given your ability and willingness to change old patterns given that the impediments for so doing have effectively disappeared, you must still take steps to “fit in.” Growing up in the western world you gradually learned from your parents, peers, educators and by mere osmosis about socializing mores. Without those decades and a support system behind you, as a recent transplantee a bit of assistance might just be the order of the day. Hence, three areas of concrete advice for when attending social functions, with additional assistance thrown in for good measure for when it’s your turn to be host:
TIME:
Some Oaxacans are punctual but most are not. Being invited for comida without a time specification means arriving anytime between 2:30 and 4, or thereabouts. Ask what time, naturally, but doing so doesn’t necessarily equate with an expectation that you’ll arrive around that time. Birthday comidas in particular, especially in the country, often meld nicely into the evening. If there’s hired entertainment for such functions, at times it won’t even begin until 5 or 6…but then again sometimes it will be over by then. Rarely if even will a cena begin before 8:30. Depending on patterns of alcohol consumption, dinner can extend until 2 - 4 the next morning. This means that arrival time can conceivably be up until perhaps 11, which leads to a general expectation that you’ll attend the cena after you’ve been to another social obligation for that same night. It’s often no excuse to apologize by saying you already have another commitment. If it’s a wedding or quince años, there’s usually an expectation all round of punctuality, but wandering in “late” won’t be looked down upon. There just isn’t that concern or western obsession with getting there “on time,”…most of the time. If you’re throwing a dinner party, knowing your guests’ pattern or perception of punctuality certainly assists. For example, if you want everyone to be there by 9:30 to sit down after drinks and snacks, you can tell some friends to be there at that hour, and others at 8:30. It might just work out perfectly according to your western notion of planning…but probably not, and in fact does a disservice to any wish you might have to alter your temporal worldview, in any event a most difficult goal to attain.
ATTIRE:
A jacket and tie is never absolutely necessary anywhere. Even at the most formal of functions there will be attendees dressed casually according to our imported standards, as their abilities dictate, yet neat and clean. Often middle and upper class men’s attire consists of slacks, collared shirt and leather jacket. It’s not unreasonable to expect foreigners to dress “up,” especially at a high end wedding or quince años, but don’t do the opposite to the extreme, anywhere. Jeans and a t-shirt show a lack of respect. Err on the side of formality. However, consider your surroundings. You can get away with casual clothing in the country at all times. As much as it’s obvious you’re a “güero,” you still don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb dressing too formal. Women: write to my wife for advice. She’s the one always on my case.
GIFTS:
Because many people attending social events still bring gifts which are shrink-wrapped with clear plastic onto a piece of hard board, after you have a couple of functions under your belt you’ll be able to discern what’s an appropriate gift from whom, since you will have seen people walking into parties with the contents of their gifts in clear view. You can also get a pretty good idea of the most popular gifts by checking the range of pre-wrapped items in store windows or in the housewares and appliances sections of supermarkets and departments stores. But it’s practically guaranteed that when it comes to receiving presents at your own large celebration, you’ll be in for some surprises. The most shocked we’ve been was at my wife’s fiftieth when a well known political appointee gave her a pair of plastic earrings. Livestock is frequently given at rural weddings, as are sheets, lamps, blenders, coffee makers, dishes, pots and pans, etc. Liquor, including mezcal both labeled and unmarked multi-liter bottles of small-operation production, is an acceptable and appreciated gift under certain circumstances. With jewelry it’s hard to go wrong. The most acceptable etiquette dictates that you bring your gift with you to the function. In fact at weddings and quince años the presentation of gifts is usually a formal ceremony complete with receiving line. But don’t expect a thank you note because it will never appear. In fact even an acknowledgement at some future time of the gift you’ve given is rarely forth-coming. However there’s nothing wrong with you showing your appreciation with a brief call if you are so inclined. Some behaviors not traditionally practiced in southern Mexico are indeed appreciated.
Rites of passage provide both an excuse for socializing and facilitate a primary means by which to reciprocate, the latter exemplifying how one can and is expected to kill 200 or more birds with one stone. But just remember the double corollary of the foregoing adage when residing in Oaxaca…you’re footing the bill for throwing those bashes, and when invited to 200 such functions, gifts are required for each one. You may just wind up coming out of retirement, having really come of age in Oaxaca.
Alvin and Arlene Starkman are passionate about Oaxaca. They endeavor to retain their reputation as proprietors of one of the most popular Oaxaca bed and breakfasts, Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ). Casa Machaya, a founding member of the Oaxaca Bed and Breakfast Association, combines the attributes of quality Oaxaca hotels, with the characteristics of a more progressive and personalized Oaxaca lodging style: owners are on site 24 / 7 (it’s your accommodations … and our home), always available to guests as their personal resources, and willing to go that little bit extra to ensure value-added service.
11/17/2008
Traveling light to Oaxaca?
Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.
First-time travelers to Oaxaca, as well as return visitors and snowbirds, can all help to improve the financial lot of many struggling residents, aside from simply visiting the city and spending.
It’s a fact that tourism has indeed returned to the central valleys of the state of Oaxaca. But as a result of the US economic crisis in 2008, so have many Oaxacans: Oaxacan immigrants, documented and otherwise, had previously been eking out a modest existence north of the border, often wiring money back to their motherland on a regular basis to help out parents, children and extended family members in need. With fewer available jobs, the people flow has now been reversed. Oaxacans are coming back to their native soil. The economic implications are twofold:
1) There are now more Oaxacans vying for work which continues to be a scarce commodity.
2) With fewer Oaxacans working in the US, less money is being sent home.
Many hotel and B & B guests arrive with two suitcases … one filled with their clothes and toiletries, which fits snuggly inside a larger one. The latter is used for the flight back home, to pack up purchases such as rugs and other textiles, black pottery and a variety of different ceramic pieces, alebrijes, and more traditional fine art. That larger suitcase need not be brought down empty. Those who have already been sensitized to Oaxaca’s economic plight sometimes ask what they can bring to leave behind, filling their second piece of luggage with used clothing, pencils and pens, T – shirts and caps with logos of their local sports teams, and much more. And then there are the travelers with young children who recognize that by the time the next summer arrives in their hometowns, the kids will have outgrown virtually everything they’ve brought down for them to wear. Here in Oaxaca they find new homes for shoes, shorts, jeans, dresses and shirts.
Within less than an hour’s drive from downtown Oaxaca, townspeople in marginal communities subsist on tortillas, beans and rice, with meat and poultry reserved for only the most special of occasion. Medical clinics and dental facilities are often stocked with inadequate equipment, instruments and supplies, and schools lack books. Even the brightest students and those with the most drive and desire are denied the opportunity to complete their secondary education because the cost of transportation to attend high school in the larger centers is prohibitive relative to the means of their families.
Every visitor to the city of Oaxaca has the potential to make a significant contribution to the economic amelioration of residents of towns and villages in the central valleys, apart from buying handicrafts and art.
We all have much more clothing than we need. Just look in your closet or in that chest of drawers in the basement. You might even find your daughter’s old pair of eyeglasses from two prescriptions ago, useless to you but invaluable to a downtown optometrist with ties to villages with children whose parents have no money to buy glasses. Dig out that gift from your mother-in-law --- the sweater that’s far too gaudy, or the T – shirt she brought for you on her trip to Turkey three years ago, still in the plastic wrapper. Do you really think that as you get older it’s realistic for you to actually start exercising as you did before, and that you’ll actually lose that paunch and fit into those size 32 jeans? How long do you think it will take for those shirts with Saturday Night Fever collars to come back into style? Here in Oaxaca they’ve never gone out of style.
The reluctance to personally distribute what you can no longer use is understandable. Certainly filling up a couple of green garbage bags in the course of your annual spring cleaning and then taking them to the local clothing drop box is easier, and the anonymity which comes with it is somehow preferable. It precludes any possibility of that feeling of discomfort that often results from directly confronting differences in economic status. But for those Oaxacans in need, all contributions are welcomed and tremendously appreciated.
Bring whatever you can. And if you’re not a packrat, there are other ways you can help:
1) Ask your neighbors and relatives. They’ll be happy to use the new-found closet space.
2) If you’re a medical or dental professional, search the shelves in your storage cabinet for instruments that have become obsolete for your state-of-the-art practice.
3) If you’re a manufacturer with over-runs, or wholesaler, jobber or retailer with stock that you just can’t move, consider packing up whatever will fit into that extra suitcase.
Not knowing what to do with it once you land in Oaxaca is certainly a legitimate, but not insurmountable concern. Again, there are several options:
1) The manager of your hotel or B & B might assist in distributing clothing to members of his cleaning staff who in all likelihood are of extremely modest means, or might suggest that some items be given to one of several local charities such as Estancia Fraternidad or Casa de La Mujer.
2) If you plan to tour some of the craft villages, your tour guide or driver might be able to assist you, although residents of the more popular and consequently successful towns such as Teotitlán del Valle and San Martín Tilcajete might not be the ones to whom your generosity should be directed. Consider spending part of a day getting away from the more traditional tourist sights, perhaps venturing into the hills and tiny communities, the inhabitants of which are predominantly campesinos. This affords an opportunity to see first hand the modest lifestyles of most Oaxacans and experience the “real” Mexico. Your chauffeur should be happy to accommodate, and you can distribute goods as and to whom you wish.
3) Drop your donation by the Oaxaca Lending Library on Calle Pino Suarez. Its volunteers are involved in a number of outreach projects.
4) Contact me and I’d be honored to come by your accommodations, pick up whatever you have, and ensure that it goes to good use.
Regular visitors to the city and the numerous returning snowbirds are afforded an even better and easier opportunity to help. Consider leaving your entire Oaxaca wardrobe and all your toiletries in Oaxaca, permanently. Remember, you still have more than enough to wear at home, and already having bathroom items awaiting you upon your return to Oaxaca can be quite convenient, especially in light of airline restrictions regarding sprays and bottles.
Pack it all up in a few boxes, or better yet buy an inexpensive chest of drawers to store your belongings, like I did about a dozen years ago when I was a frequent visitor to the city. Toss in a few bars of soap or pieces of cedar to keep it all fresh smelling. Then impose upon one of your Oaxacan or expat friends to keep it for you in a closet, corner or storage room. For your subsequent visits to the city all you’ll be bringing down will be two suitcases filled with treasures for those in need. And remember, with all that Oaxaca has to offer shoppers, craft collectors and art aficionados, there’s never a risk that you’ll return north with empty luggage.
Alvin Starkman has a Masters in anthropology and law degree from Osgoode Hall Law Schoo in Toronto. Now a resident of Oaxaca, Alvin writes, tours couples and families to the ruins, craft villages, market towns and more off the beaten track destinations, and owns Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ), a unique Oaxaca bed and breakfast experience, providing Oaxaca accommodations which combine the comfort and service of Oaxaca hotels with the personal touch of quaint country inn style lodging. You can arrange for Alvin to pick up the contents of your extra suitcase by emailing him at oaxacadream@hotmail.com.
First-time travelers to Oaxaca, as well as return visitors and snowbirds, can all help to improve the financial lot of many struggling residents, aside from simply visiting the city and spending.
It’s a fact that tourism has indeed returned to the central valleys of the state of Oaxaca. But as a result of the US economic crisis in 2008, so have many Oaxacans: Oaxacan immigrants, documented and otherwise, had previously been eking out a modest existence north of the border, often wiring money back to their motherland on a regular basis to help out parents, children and extended family members in need. With fewer available jobs, the people flow has now been reversed. Oaxacans are coming back to their native soil. The economic implications are twofold:
1) There are now more Oaxacans vying for work which continues to be a scarce commodity.
2) With fewer Oaxacans working in the US, less money is being sent home.
Many hotel and B & B guests arrive with two suitcases … one filled with their clothes and toiletries, which fits snuggly inside a larger one. The latter is used for the flight back home, to pack up purchases such as rugs and other textiles, black pottery and a variety of different ceramic pieces, alebrijes, and more traditional fine art. That larger suitcase need not be brought down empty. Those who have already been sensitized to Oaxaca’s economic plight sometimes ask what they can bring to leave behind, filling their second piece of luggage with used clothing, pencils and pens, T – shirts and caps with logos of their local sports teams, and much more. And then there are the travelers with young children who recognize that by the time the next summer arrives in their hometowns, the kids will have outgrown virtually everything they’ve brought down for them to wear. Here in Oaxaca they find new homes for shoes, shorts, jeans, dresses and shirts.
Within less than an hour’s drive from downtown Oaxaca, townspeople in marginal communities subsist on tortillas, beans and rice, with meat and poultry reserved for only the most special of occasion. Medical clinics and dental facilities are often stocked with inadequate equipment, instruments and supplies, and schools lack books. Even the brightest students and those with the most drive and desire are denied the opportunity to complete their secondary education because the cost of transportation to attend high school in the larger centers is prohibitive relative to the means of their families.
Every visitor to the city of Oaxaca has the potential to make a significant contribution to the economic amelioration of residents of towns and villages in the central valleys, apart from buying handicrafts and art.
We all have much more clothing than we need. Just look in your closet or in that chest of drawers in the basement. You might even find your daughter’s old pair of eyeglasses from two prescriptions ago, useless to you but invaluable to a downtown optometrist with ties to villages with children whose parents have no money to buy glasses. Dig out that gift from your mother-in-law --- the sweater that’s far too gaudy, or the T – shirt she brought for you on her trip to Turkey three years ago, still in the plastic wrapper. Do you really think that as you get older it’s realistic for you to actually start exercising as you did before, and that you’ll actually lose that paunch and fit into those size 32 jeans? How long do you think it will take for those shirts with Saturday Night Fever collars to come back into style? Here in Oaxaca they’ve never gone out of style.
The reluctance to personally distribute what you can no longer use is understandable. Certainly filling up a couple of green garbage bags in the course of your annual spring cleaning and then taking them to the local clothing drop box is easier, and the anonymity which comes with it is somehow preferable. It precludes any possibility of that feeling of discomfort that often results from directly confronting differences in economic status. But for those Oaxacans in need, all contributions are welcomed and tremendously appreciated.
Bring whatever you can. And if you’re not a packrat, there are other ways you can help:
1) Ask your neighbors and relatives. They’ll be happy to use the new-found closet space.
2) If you’re a medical or dental professional, search the shelves in your storage cabinet for instruments that have become obsolete for your state-of-the-art practice.
3) If you’re a manufacturer with over-runs, or wholesaler, jobber or retailer with stock that you just can’t move, consider packing up whatever will fit into that extra suitcase.
Not knowing what to do with it once you land in Oaxaca is certainly a legitimate, but not insurmountable concern. Again, there are several options:
1) The manager of your hotel or B & B might assist in distributing clothing to members of his cleaning staff who in all likelihood are of extremely modest means, or might suggest that some items be given to one of several local charities such as Estancia Fraternidad or Casa de La Mujer.
2) If you plan to tour some of the craft villages, your tour guide or driver might be able to assist you, although residents of the more popular and consequently successful towns such as Teotitlán del Valle and San Martín Tilcajete might not be the ones to whom your generosity should be directed. Consider spending part of a day getting away from the more traditional tourist sights, perhaps venturing into the hills and tiny communities, the inhabitants of which are predominantly campesinos. This affords an opportunity to see first hand the modest lifestyles of most Oaxacans and experience the “real” Mexico. Your chauffeur should be happy to accommodate, and you can distribute goods as and to whom you wish.
3) Drop your donation by the Oaxaca Lending Library on Calle Pino Suarez. Its volunteers are involved in a number of outreach projects.
4) Contact me and I’d be honored to come by your accommodations, pick up whatever you have, and ensure that it goes to good use.
Regular visitors to the city and the numerous returning snowbirds are afforded an even better and easier opportunity to help. Consider leaving your entire Oaxaca wardrobe and all your toiletries in Oaxaca, permanently. Remember, you still have more than enough to wear at home, and already having bathroom items awaiting you upon your return to Oaxaca can be quite convenient, especially in light of airline restrictions regarding sprays and bottles.
Pack it all up in a few boxes, or better yet buy an inexpensive chest of drawers to store your belongings, like I did about a dozen years ago when I was a frequent visitor to the city. Toss in a few bars of soap or pieces of cedar to keep it all fresh smelling. Then impose upon one of your Oaxacan or expat friends to keep it for you in a closet, corner or storage room. For your subsequent visits to the city all you’ll be bringing down will be two suitcases filled with treasures for those in need. And remember, with all that Oaxaca has to offer shoppers, craft collectors and art aficionados, there’s never a risk that you’ll return north with empty luggage.
Alvin Starkman has a Masters in anthropology and law degree from Osgoode Hall Law Schoo in Toronto. Now a resident of Oaxaca, Alvin writes, tours couples and families to the ruins, craft villages, market towns and more off the beaten track destinations, and owns Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ), a unique Oaxaca bed and breakfast experience, providing Oaxaca accommodations which combine the comfort and service of Oaxaca hotels with the personal touch of quaint country inn style lodging. You can arrange for Alvin to pick up the contents of your extra suitcase by emailing him at oaxacadream@hotmail.com.
11/05/2008
Guadua, Puerto Escondido: Oaxaca restaurant review
Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.
Guadua ranks arguably as the best restaurant and bar in Puerto Escondido in terms of both ambiance, and quality and creativity of fare. In fact for this reviewer it’s a full notch above the rest.
The restaurant’s designer has done an impeccable job of creating an atmosphere fitting a bistro on the beach, yet with class and subtlety, and a conspicuous lack of that all-too-prevalent and overpowering nautical paraphernalia. No walking over an arched mini-bridge onto these sturdy hardwood planked floor boards. With its full open concept, there’s nary a wall to hang a dolphin, a net, or an oversized photo of the owner’s big catch. While structurally a palapa, the configuration is more than simply functional cross beams and uprights supporting palm leaf; posts are erected at aesthetically pleasing and unusual angles, worthy of note in Architectural Digest. Lighting, while somewhat dim for late night dining, is provided by bulbs dangling inside smartly strung over-sized patterned burlap balls.
Waiters are quick to welcome, take your drink order and arrive back with a basket of warm, multi-grain hand-sliced loaf. The recorded music consists of tasteful Latin-style new age, but only until the fifty-something Cuban-born troubadour sets up with his companion off to a corner to serenade with familiar soft rock and the odd Spanish tune. Otherwise there’s the sound of the surf, with the sand virtually at your feet and ocean merely yards away.
Our first appetizer was tuna timbal with couscous, consisting of chilled and properly fluffed couscous lightly tossed with cucumber, purple onion, avocado and diced fresh tuna marinated in garlic ginger soya sauce. Each ingredient retained its distinctive flavor. The soya was used sufficiently sparingly so as to not overpower. Equally impressive for its ability to showcase each component was the eggplant bruschetta … a purée with roasted tomato, melted Roquefort and homemade mayonnaise, over the requisite thick rounds of toast.
The seared white fish baked in rosemary butter was prepared to perfection, and arrived with sides of salad and mashed potatoes. My long pasta with parmesan and cream cheese with cracked cardamom was cooked to the optimum degree of doneness, but required a bit of doctoring to bring out the Indian spice. The tuna loin lived up to its “rare on the inside” billing, often a struggle to achieve when dining in southern Mexico. Once again the marinade, a teriyaki, was well understated.
We completed our cena with snifters of Torres 10 brandy, and shared the lemon pie frozen to perfect consistency, with hibiscus flower coulis, and then a personal size dark chocolate cake filled with melted white chocolate, accompanied by vanilla ice cream and cacao brandy sauce.
The menu selections at Guadua cover all the usual bases, so there’s little if any likelihood you’ll have difficulty finding offerings which call out to the palate. But the expected ends there. Whether it’s the guacamole with grasshoppers or grilled vegetables with balsamic vinegar from the appetizers; arugula salad mixed with slices of parmesan, fig and lemon olive oil vinaigrette; a burger or baguette; tomato dill soup with sautéed shrimp; a filet mignón basted with green pepper brandy cream sauce; or the more standard seafood selections, each is accented with its own Guadua touch.
With tip and taxes included, appetizers, soups, salads and lighter fare range from 50 to 100 pesos; and entrées from 100 to 160 pesos. Hard to beat? I thought so too!
Guadua
Tamaulipas esq. con Zona Federal
Col. Brisas de Zicatela
Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca
Tel: (954) 107-9524
Alvin Starkman together with wife Arlene operates Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ). They provide guests with a unique Oaxaca accommodation style which combines the service and comfort of a Oaxaca hotel, with lodging style characterized by quaintness and personal touch. Alvin received his masters in social anthropology in 1978, and his law degree in 1984. Thereafter he was a litigator in Toronto until taking early retirement. He and his family were frequent visitors to Oaxaca between 1991 and when they became permanent residents in 2004. Alvin reviews restaurants, writes about life and cultural traditions in Oaxaca, tours couples and families to the craft villages, ruins, towns and their market days and other sights, and is a special consultant to documentary film production companies.
Guadua ranks arguably as the best restaurant and bar in Puerto Escondido in terms of both ambiance, and quality and creativity of fare. In fact for this reviewer it’s a full notch above the rest.
The restaurant’s designer has done an impeccable job of creating an atmosphere fitting a bistro on the beach, yet with class and subtlety, and a conspicuous lack of that all-too-prevalent and overpowering nautical paraphernalia. No walking over an arched mini-bridge onto these sturdy hardwood planked floor boards. With its full open concept, there’s nary a wall to hang a dolphin, a net, or an oversized photo of the owner’s big catch. While structurally a palapa, the configuration is more than simply functional cross beams and uprights supporting palm leaf; posts are erected at aesthetically pleasing and unusual angles, worthy of note in Architectural Digest. Lighting, while somewhat dim for late night dining, is provided by bulbs dangling inside smartly strung over-sized patterned burlap balls.
Waiters are quick to welcome, take your drink order and arrive back with a basket of warm, multi-grain hand-sliced loaf. The recorded music consists of tasteful Latin-style new age, but only until the fifty-something Cuban-born troubadour sets up with his companion off to a corner to serenade with familiar soft rock and the odd Spanish tune. Otherwise there’s the sound of the surf, with the sand virtually at your feet and ocean merely yards away.
Our first appetizer was tuna timbal with couscous, consisting of chilled and properly fluffed couscous lightly tossed with cucumber, purple onion, avocado and diced fresh tuna marinated in garlic ginger soya sauce. Each ingredient retained its distinctive flavor. The soya was used sufficiently sparingly so as to not overpower. Equally impressive for its ability to showcase each component was the eggplant bruschetta … a purée with roasted tomato, melted Roquefort and homemade mayonnaise, over the requisite thick rounds of toast.
The seared white fish baked in rosemary butter was prepared to perfection, and arrived with sides of salad and mashed potatoes. My long pasta with parmesan and cream cheese with cracked cardamom was cooked to the optimum degree of doneness, but required a bit of doctoring to bring out the Indian spice. The tuna loin lived up to its “rare on the inside” billing, often a struggle to achieve when dining in southern Mexico. Once again the marinade, a teriyaki, was well understated.
We completed our cena with snifters of Torres 10 brandy, and shared the lemon pie frozen to perfect consistency, with hibiscus flower coulis, and then a personal size dark chocolate cake filled with melted white chocolate, accompanied by vanilla ice cream and cacao brandy sauce.
The menu selections at Guadua cover all the usual bases, so there’s little if any likelihood you’ll have difficulty finding offerings which call out to the palate. But the expected ends there. Whether it’s the guacamole with grasshoppers or grilled vegetables with balsamic vinegar from the appetizers; arugula salad mixed with slices of parmesan, fig and lemon olive oil vinaigrette; a burger or baguette; tomato dill soup with sautéed shrimp; a filet mignón basted with green pepper brandy cream sauce; or the more standard seafood selections, each is accented with its own Guadua touch.
With tip and taxes included, appetizers, soups, salads and lighter fare range from 50 to 100 pesos; and entrées from 100 to 160 pesos. Hard to beat? I thought so too!
Guadua
Tamaulipas esq. con Zona Federal
Col. Brisas de Zicatela
Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca
Tel: (954) 107-9524
Alvin Starkman together with wife Arlene operates Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ). They provide guests with a unique Oaxaca accommodation style which combines the service and comfort of a Oaxaca hotel, with lodging style characterized by quaintness and personal touch. Alvin received his masters in social anthropology in 1978, and his law degree in 1984. Thereafter he was a litigator in Toronto until taking early retirement. He and his family were frequent visitors to Oaxaca between 1991 and when they became permanent residents in 2004. Alvin reviews restaurants, writes about life and cultural traditions in Oaxaca, tours couples and families to the craft villages, ruins, towns and their market days and other sights, and is a special consultant to documentary film production companies.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
