Death of an infant in Oaxaca

Where divergent religious customs merge ...

Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.

Daniel Perez Gonzalez was a beautiful baby. His parents Flor and Jorge thought so; my wife Arlene and I agreed. Few are able to share our certainty, though, because we were among the very few to see him alive. Daniel was born in one of Oaxaca’s well-known clinics. I welcomed him into the world along with Arlene, our then 13-year-old daughter Sarah, and Daniel’s abuelita (grandmother) Chona. From the womb, the nurse passed our newest extended family member into three sets of anxiously loving arms---Chona’s, those of his big sister Carmela (Sarah’s closest friend in Oaxaca), and then Sarah.

We have a long and colorful history together, my Jewish family in my previous hometown of Toronto and my devoutly Catholic family here in Oaxaca. Chona is our comadre and matriarch of her family. Not six months earlier she and her grandchildren had shouted Mazel Tov at Sarah’s Bat Mitzvah in Toronto. Over the years we have raised many a glass of mezcal at milestone birthdays including quince años (the fiesta when a young girl turns fifteen, with similarities to the Bat Mitzvah); we have eaten matzoh together for Passover in Toronto; and we have welcomed many a Christmas, New Year’s and Dia de Muertos together in Oaxaca.

But it was Daniel’s death that reinforced for me, through much laughter and many tears, the profound irrelevance of cultural differences in the face of universal rituals surrounding death.

On the day of his birth, it was easy to imagine that Daniel’s life would unfold like Sarah’s. At 8 pounds, and with a full head of black hair, the baby looked extremely healthy. Like my wife’s, Flor’s pregnancy had been full-term. Like Sarah, Daniel was born by caesarian section; like Sarah, his mother’s umbilical chord had been wrapped around his neck, causing temporary respiratory distress and the need for a few days in an incubator. But we didn’t worry, his father and cousin both obstetricians with connections in the Oaxacan medical community. He would receive the best post-natal care available, and we would dance at his wedding one day.
But then their paths diverged. After two days of life, we mourned little Daniel’s death of respiratory distress, beside his coffin in Chona’s living room, with family, friends and compadres.

Between the birth and the death came a crazy-quilt of only-in-Mexico experiences that resonated with my memories of the mourning process my Canadian family had undergone when my father Sam died a few years earlier.

Most Oaxacans accept that death hits you at home---literally. Daniel left the hospital in a white, ornately-adorned satin-lined coffin, bound not for a funeral home, but for the livingroom of the family compound. Once he was settled atop a table covered with fresh linen, with a large silver crucifix behind him, my compadre Javier and I were dispatched to the Mercado de Abastos, to buy white gladioli and flower arrangements. This was a far cry from the somber discussion of formal arrangements at Toronto’s Steeles Memorial after my father’s death.

In this passionate and expressive country, even death rites are incomplete without the drama of shouting and accusations. At the cemetery I learned that Daniel was to be interred in a low tomb-like grave atop Tia Lolita, his great-great-aunt who had died in 1990, who was layered over yet another relative who had died in 1982. But when we met with the head undertaker, el presidente, at Lolita’s graveside only hours after Daniel’s death, we were advised that annual fees hadn’t been paid in ten years. Much shouting ensued, but in the end, after heated debate, el presidente had successfully “extorted”, as was his right, thousands of pesos for arrears of government taxes and administrative fees---plus about 1000 pesos in the likely event that Daniel would require a boveda (literally a vault, the rebar reinforced concrete slabs designed to keep the grave’s occupants in an orderly configuration). And we still weren’t done. Only once Chona had presented sufficient historical documents to convince everyone that she indeed had the requisite authority to bury Daniel alongside Lolita were the appropriate certificate and receipts issued.

Back at Chona’s home mourners had begun to arrive. Shortly thereafter Jorge and I dropped off 150 various pan dulce, to be used to dip into the traditional hot chocolate served to those attending such gatherings. I then experienced another profound frisson of déjà vu . The notably slower pace of Oaxaca’s mañana society was gone. With efficient dispatch, Chona and family transformed the home into a grieving chamber, arranging for necessities such as chair rentals, and ordering attendees off to kitchen duty. There under Chona’s roof I traveled back in time to my mother’s kitchen, crowded with friends and relatives I hadn’t seen in years, just after my father’s funeral. I could hear my mother’s friend Rayla organizing who would bring what meals into our home during shiva---the week of mourning that follows the burial of a Jew.

Then there were the inevitable tragicomic moments. When I gave my father’s eulogy, I couldn’t resist telling a story about him that made reference to a shared moment that involved passing gas. In Mexico, the black humor of death is even more visceral. When Chona and I went back to the cemetery to ensure that preparations for the burial were well underway, we found el presidente and his aide a half-foot down, at the top concrete plate of the vault---along with part of a human jawbone. Chona was outraged, and began shouting, “that can’t be Tia Lolita!” We came up with many theories for the mystery bone, all revolving around the amorous activities of the dead, none repeatable in this newspaper. That kept us going until we finally came across the complete skull of Tia Lolita, still covered with the traditional fine headcloth to prevent mosquito bites. We ultimately concluded that a few years back someone else had been buried alongside Lola. Mystery of the extra jawbone solved. Here in southern Mexico, multiple burials in the same grave, at times at different levels, and at times involving the removal of bones after several years of non-payment of fees, may occur. In any event, in return for a handsome gratuity el presidente agreed to clear away a spot for Daniel’s cajita, and hide Lolita’s head and any other remaining bones in a sack at one end of the grave opening. The funeral would take place the next day, not unlike the dispatch with which Jews bury their dead---but very different from the traditional adult Oaxacan death custom characterized by several days of prayer, visitation and other rituals prior to burial, similar in purpose and function to the Jewish period of shiva after the interment.

Later that evening back at the house, we listened to a cassette recording of nursery rhymes. Although we in the Judaic tradition are not permitted music during mourning, these tunes seemed appropriate. Arlene tenderly placed a small rattle beside Daniel, in accordance with local custom. A young woman led a 20-minute prayer, strikingly similar in nature to the Kaddish or mourners’ prayer in a shiva home. Then more food---a rich mole negro with bolillos, tortillas, salsa---and more prayer. When the padre finally arrived late, there was the obligatory humor about the clergy; someone joked that he had just shown up for a meal.

By the following afternoon, we were placing a bountiful display of flowers into the back of a pick-up. Javier and I took final photographs of the baby, and then Jorge placed his son into the back of a 1980s white stationwagon, for his final journey.

The cemetery ritual combined the continuing familiarity of my own Canadian experiences with Mexicana. A few soft prayers, a few handsful of earth placed atop the coffin, and incongruously our two congenial cemetery workers placed the concrete slab back between the remaining portions of the lid to the vault, then mixed and applied cement to seal the boveda. Reminiscent of Jewish custom, Chona asked Javier and I to assist with the shoveling of earth, then invited everyone home for comida.

Back at the house there was no music. Idle chatter took its place. Eventually, once most of the people had left, and only the barren white altar and the slowly burning mourners’ candles remained, Arlene and I decided to go downtown for a walk, sad and emotionally drained, but oddly comforted. After a Oaxacan funeral for a Catholic baby, I felt exactly the way I did the first time I walked outside after arising from my father’s shiva.

Alvin Starkman, a resident of Oaxaca, has elected to change the names of his Oaxacan extended family, out of respect. He operates Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ), a member of the Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast Association, an organization dedicated to ensuring its members adhere to the highest standards in Oaxacan lodging accommodations by providing environmentally friendly practices, procedures and facilities, support for the local populace, and value-added service.

Caldo de Piedra --- Oaxaca restaurant review

Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.

Campesinos working the land or tending flocks in the river valleys and hills of the Sierra Norte would stop, fish for trout, or perhaps gather lobster-like langostinos after the first rains in May, and then cook their bounty in an unusual way. They would place their catch in a half-gourd filled with river water and freshly picked aromatic herbs, heat rocks from the banks to red-hot, then place them in the bowl and watch their meal quickly poach in a boiling broth.

Caldo de Piedra, located a few minutes outside of Oaxaca on the highway leading to Santa María el Tule, ceremoniously replicates the age-old custom before your eyes. The restaurant is a large, simple palapa with an open kitchen. The menu is effectively non-existent since all that is served are generously filled quesadillas and similar appetizers, your choice of three soups (the caldos), and non-alcoholic beverages.

The owners boast that this traditional meal preparation dates to pre-Hispanic times, and was practiced in their home village, San Felipe Usila, in the district of Tuxtepec.

Service is uncharacteristically fast. Waitresses are eager to attend to orders, and more importantly answer all queries about your comida’s preparation, so be sure to ask to go over to the two kitchen areas to bear witness to the procedural pomp. On the one side are women working over metate (grinding stone) and comal (large round clay “stove-top” used for cooking over an open flame), hand-making tortillas for filling with your choice of quesillo (the famed Oaxacan string cheese), mushrooms, squash blossoms and more. On the other side unfolds the curious convention. A substantial helping of your choice of raw, medium sized shrimp, red snapper, or a combination of the two is placed in a jícara (the half gourd) with a selection of chiles, onion and leafy herbs including requisite cilantro. A blender off to the side is used to prepare a tomato-based liquid which is then poured into each vessel. With the aid of a large wooden tong, a couple of baseball sized river stones are plucked from a flaming fire pit, gingerly placed in each gourd, and voilá, your meal starts to boil. Rocks are added a second time, following which each comida-in-a-pot is brought to the table.

Flavors remain distinctly discernable to the extreme, given that fresh ingredients are combined on the spot. The chef/proprietor is in complete control of process so as to assure the proper degree of doneness (with only one cooking method and a choice of only three main dishes, it’s pretty well guaranteed). It’s low-fat protein, herbs, vegetable and tortilla, yielding ideal fare for the diet and health conscious, in a region of the state noted for pretty well the opposite … and they even serve coca light (diet coke). It’s all so simple, making the experience gastronomically rewarding, while at the same time awe inspiring.

NOTES:
Open daily, noon to 7 pm.
Price with beverage and shared appetizers, 125 pesos pp.

Alvin Starkman together with wife Arlene operates Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ). 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.

Calpulalpam, Pueblo Mágico

Suena dificil de creer, pero uno de los estados más ricos en pueblos para visitar, es Oaxaca, pero hace apenas una semana acaba de lograr el reconocimiento de uno de sus destinos para ser incluido dentro del programa de la Secretaría de Turismo federal: Pueblos Mágicos.

Hacía el norte del estado

Calpulalpam de Méndez ha pasado desapercibido para el resto del país, pero los oaxaqueños saben que la sabiduría popular se ha arraigado ahí a lo largo de los siglos.

Los remedios de las abuelas que curaban males con jitomates asados y cubriéndolo con papel de estraza, y las recetas de herbolaria que han sanado desde catarros hasta complejas enfermedades se concretaron en el centro de medicina indígena tradicional que desde hace años funciona en la región.

Ahí, indígenas que han aprendido de sus ancestros secretos de la medicina usada en la región desde hace cientos de años atienden al público en general, la mayoría proveniente de comunidades circunvecinas, pero también de otros estados y del extranjero.

Herbolarios, hueseros y sobadores, ponen la erudición transmitida por sus abuelos al servicio de la comunidad por sólo 35 pesos la consulta.

Tras el nombramiento

La inclusión de Calpulalpam le da una oportunidad de desarrollo a la entidad y la posibilidad de derrama económica a las poblaciones vecinas, pues la Sierra Norte y lugares como Tuxtepec tienen múltiples atractivos, la infraestructura y promoción pueden detonar la afluencia de visitantes a esa parte del estado.

Entre los pueblos que han alcanzado ese nombramiento, el cual conlleva apoyos económicos para su desarrollo turístico se encuentran: San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas; Izamal, Yucatán; Parras, Coahila; Comala, Colima, y Tequila, Jalisco.

Durante la ceremonia de nombramiento de Calpulalpam de Méndez como nuevo Pueblo Mágico se inauguraron cinco cabañas dobles de propiedad ejidal, mismas que serán usadas como alojamiento de turistas, además de un nuevo Centro Estatal de Medicina Tradicional.

La secretaria de Turismo estatal, Beatriz Rodríguez Casasnovas, manifestó su optimismo en que las poblaciones oaxaqueñas de Ocotlán, Tlaxiaco y Tepozcolula alcancen también la misma categoría en un fututo próximo.

Fuente: El Universal

Fiddler on the Roof - Oaxaca style

Giving a whole new meaning to Oaxacan multiculturalism …

Fiddler in Oaxaca

Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.

May 21, 22 and 23, 2008, might very well be remembered for time immemorial, as the dates when the 1964 Broadway production of Fiddler on the Roof was performed by a cast of 51, absent a single Jew. That the theater troupe was comprised of children and youth of mainly evangelists and missionaries through the auspices of Oaxacan Christian School, and directed by two Canadians who had traveled from Vancouver to spend four months organizing, auditioning and coaching, made the production even more noteworthy.

Fiddler Jr. was the first production performed by a brand new theater group, Oaxaca Youth Entertainers (OYE), formed by parents in Mitla and Oaxaca. Most of the “actors” in fact live in or near Mitla.

Watching the performance in a hall in suburban Oaxaca, one would be hard-pressed to be any further removed, ethnically, religiously, temporally, and geographically, from the Jewish shtetl in the village of Anatevka in 1905 tsarist Russia. Yet the quality of dance, music, verse, wardrobe and props were all true to form, right down to tsi-tsi clad Tevye the dairyman cavorting with out-stretched arms flailing while bellowing “if I were a wealthy man,” and the requisite fiddler, yes, on the roof.

While most in attendance appeared to be English speaking missionaries and their families, the balance of the audience comprised their Oaxacan friends, other natives of the city only some of whom understood the English words being spoken and sung (the synopsis of the play and summary of each of the 15 scenes was printed in both languages), and members of the expatriate community … including some Jews.

As per Oaxacan custom, the performance began a half hour “late.” However, even before the curtain rose it became clear that the wait would be well worth while and that we were about to be entertained by a production of professional quality, keeping true to original script, with important historical lessons to be learned. The moderator’s introduction was remarkably moving, as he noted the pain and suffering of Jews throughout history, and that 2008 marks the 60th anniversary of the formation of the State of Israel. He cautioned, clearly for the benefit of those in attendance raised in a non-drinking culture, that there would be scenes of drinking and drunkenness, that the production in no way endorsed this type of behavior, and that they simply portrayed what live was like for some in that era.

Ethnic cleansing’s scourge on society; marrying rich versus poor, and out-of-faith; the importance of family and deferring to one’s parents’ wishes; and of course lessons about Jewish traditions right down to village dress in early 20th century eastern Europe and of the orthodox, and use of the chuppa (canopy) and breaking of the glass at a wedding; were each handled, as dictated by context, with factual accuracy, sensitivity, and in some cases requisite humor.

Justice, however, was not done to the hard work and talent of these youthful actors and the production as a whole, as a result of air conditioning units not functioning as required during the hottest time of the year, the commissary running out of bottled water at the intermission, and most importantly a faulty sound system making many of the lines the stars of the play incomprehensible, to even for those of us with English as our first language and a vague recollection of Topol’s most memorable lines. Viva Oaxaca.

Alvin Starkman has a masters in anthropology and law degree from Osgoode Hall Law School in Toronto. Now a resident of Oaxaca, Alvin writes, takes tours to the sites, and owns Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ).

A rich woodcarving tradition dating to pre-Hispanic times: Spotlight on Jacobo Ángeles

Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.

One would be hard-pressed to search the Americas and find creators of folk art with more form, symbolism and importance to the development and sustenance of their culture, than those of Zapotec ancestry in the southern Mexico state of Oaxaca.

Many writers, including so-called experts in folk art, have mistakenly written that the origins of the tradition date back fifty or sixty years, to a small number of wood carvers residing in one of the central valleys of Oaxaca, a few miles from the state capital of the same name. The error has consistently been equating the recent commercialization of the art-form with its origins, and ignoring its pre-Hispanic roots and subsequent development.

Carver Jacobo Ángeles lives with his wife María and two children in San Martín Tilcajete, one of three main Zapotec villages, most of the residents of which earn a living from carving and / or painting colorful figures, often generically referred to as alebrijes, from the branches of the copal tree. The others are Arrazola and La Unión Tejalapan.

At age 12 Jacobo began learning to carve from his father. Later on he was mentored by elders in his own and other villages. “Over the past few decades our craft has without a doubt changed dramatically,” Jacobo explains, “with the use of more synthetic paints, a tremendous increase in the range of figures being carved, and with domestic and international demand for our carvings growing exponentially and affecting how and what we produce. But remember, my ancestors were carving animals right here in this region before the Spanish arrived in Mexico in the 1500’s. And we were using only natural paint colors which we derived from fruits and vegetables, plants and tree bark, clay, and even insects. In my family we still use what we find around us to make paints for our figures.”

San Martín Tilcajete is located about a 40 minute drive from the city of Oaxaca, along a highway leading to the state’s Pacific resort towns, including one of the oldest ports, Puerto Escondido. Puerto Escondido was a hub for the export of coffee and other cash crops during colonial times, but is now a popular beach destination for Mexican and international vacationers alike. Many travelers combine their sun and sand vacation with a visit to Oaxaca, searching out unique pieces of folk art including dance masks, pottery and painted clay figures, rugs and tapestries, and antiques from the colonial period forward. And of course there are the pre-Hispanic ruins, galleries, museums and renowned Oaxacan cuisine.

“My ancestors used a 20-day calendar,” Jacobo continues, “and each day was represented by a different creature. So every Zapotec person had an animal with whom he had a connection, and each animal had certain characteristics which carried over to the individual, as personality traits. For example, the jaguar represents power and ultimate strength, the frog is characterized by honesty and openness, the coyote watchful observation, the turtle always a troublemaker prone to breaking the rules, the eagle technical and strategic power, and so on. My people used to carve figures of just these 20 animals. They started out as small whittlings for good luck that people would keep in a revered place in the home, or wear around the neck as amulets. They also carved larger figures for their children to use as toys.”

After much probing, an almost forgotten story emerges of the use of decoys of wood and other materials. Jacobo reveals: “My people used a variety of methods to attract different kinds of game, but for hunting eagles and other birds of prey, rabbits, and deer, yes they used decoys. A painted wooden snake would be placed on the ground in an area where ants had trampled the grasses so the snake decoy would easily be seen by eagles. To hunt rabbit, my ancestors would attach a rabbit tail to one end of a straw hat, and at the other end another tail with a face painted on it. For deer, a crude wooden deer torso with real antlers would be placed in the tall brush. So carving was historically important to our people for not only totemic and related reasons, but it was directly related to our subsistence. All the written records from the period of the conquest, and not just local legend, confirm the importance of woodcarving.”

“But look at what we now carve,” Jacobo continues. “While in my family we still use natural paints, and still carve our 20 totems, we’ve transformed a simple yet important and symbolic tradition into something very different. In our villages we now carve many more than those 20 animals because of collector demand. More importantly, we’re able to make our heritage better understood and appreciated by the world. In our own workshop, our painting depicts designs and representations of our culture … friezes from the ancient ruin at Mitla, symbols representing waves, mountains and fertility, the totems, and other metaphors for our culture today, and from the past.”

Indeed the world has taken notice … not only hobbyists, carvers from other countries, and folk art aficionados. Jacobo’s work is prominently displayed in The Smithsonian Institute, Chicago’s National Museum of Mexican Art, and elsewhere throughout the continent and further abroad, in museums, art colleges and galleries. Throughout the year Jacobo traverses the U.S. promoting Oaxacan folk art and his Zapotec heritage, teaching in a diversity of educational venues ranging from junior schools to university departments of fine art, and as honored speaker at art exhibition openings.

********************

A visit to the Ángeles workshop adjoining their home, accessed by a heavily pot-holed narrow dirt road towards one end of the village, affords an opportunity to learn about this extraordinary skill-set, from Jacobo, Maria --- an excellent painter in her own right --- and some two dozen other members of their family who produce some of the finest quality wood carvings found anywhere on the continent. The men do most of the carving, while women do most of the painting, but the tasks are definitely not exclusively based on gender lines. Carving is done with non – mechanical hand-tools such as machetes, chisels and knives. The only time a more sophisticated tool is used is when a chain saw is employed to cut off a branch and level a base for the proposed figure

Except when a special order is received, the woodworkers in the family are given artistic license to carve whatever figure they wish. A trozo of tree trunk will “speak” to one of these specialists, and that’s the inspiration for beginning to create a particular animal: the shape, thickness, and bends and twists in the piece come alive. A detailed outline is drawn on the bark, defining the image with greater clarity and detail. The sculpting in earnest then begins.

“From the female copal tree we are able to make figures out of one piece of wood, often very large and intricate. This wood is soft and easy to work with. The male tree is harder, and branches tend to be smaller and somewhat delicate, so we use it to make animals which we assemble in the process.”

The carving alone takes up to a month. The figure is then left to dry for up to 10 months, depending on its overall size and thickness. Because of the properties of the copal, and Oaxaca’s semi-tropical climate, the wood is susceptible to termite infestation. Accordingly, during the drying process the piece is treated. It’s soaked in a gasoline / insecticide mixture for several hours. As an added assurance, it’s then placed in an oven, just in case eggs have evaded extermination. “All of our pieces are guaranteed to never have a termite problem,” Jacobo assures.

Since the figures are fashioned while the wood is green and more easily workable, the wood separates during the drying process. “There are a couple of members of my family whose main job is to fill the cracks before the painting begins.” They use shims, small pieces of wood which are otherwise waste from the carving process, to do part of the remedial work, as well as a sawdust-glue mixture. But even these slivers of wood and the sawdust have been cured. “We’re proud of our work, and never want to have any problems with any of our buyers, whether someone is spending $20 or $2,000.”

In the Ángeles workshop, in almost all cases one person carves and another paints. Once a figure has left the hands of the carver, all proprietary rights are released, and another member of the family is entrusted with the painting. Nephew Magdaleno explains: “Occasionally one of my cousins will come up to me and say ‘what do you think about these colors or this kind of design concept for this coyote,’ and I’ll give my feedback, but it doesn’t happen very often, and in the end I’m almost always pleased with the result. For me it’s the form that’s most important, and for whoever’s painting, it’s the imagery it captures.”

One cannot help but gasp at the creative sculpting genius which goes into each piece: A starving dog scratching fleas, a bear with its paw in a honey pot, a snake constricting a wincing jaguar, a winged horse on its hinds, a woman with long braided locks and the body of an armadillo, or a deer, life-size by Mexican standards. There’s something particularly arresting about each creation: the ever-so-flowing and realistic movement, a fanciful stance, or a familiar pose striking a chord with our popular characterization. However the painting is anything but familiar. No color of the rainbow goes untested and the intricacy of and variation in design is remarkable.

Theories abound regarding the beginning of the modern-day manifestation of the art-form. Some say that because hallucinogenic mushrooms are native to this part of Mexico, drug induced revelations caused the imaginations of some to wander, ultimately becoming expressed in their carvings. The better explanation appears to be that knowledge of colorful, large, papier maché alebrijes or dragon-like forms which originated in the State of Mexico, eventually filtered down to Oaxaca, and were the inspiration for the fathers of contemporary painted wooden carvings. “You know, it’s not accurate to refer to what we create as alebrijes, because to the older generations of Mexicans, and to true folk art collectors, alebrijes were developed near D.F. (Distrito Federal, or Mexico City, the nation’s capital), and what we do is completely different.”

Jacobo demonstrates how his ancestors created natural paints, historically used for dying clothing, painting buildings, and ceremonially as face and body decoration used for rites of passage, fiestas, prayer and other important occasions. Today their primary use, at least in these few villages, is for painting the wood carvings. He explains with the assistance of his machete and a tree trunk how he cuts away the reddish inside part of the bark of the male copal, allows it to dry, then toasts and grinds it. “This is a primary base that we use, which allows us to create a range of colors, tones and shades. Just watch.”

Using his hands as palettes, Jacobo begins by placing a small amount of the powdered bark in one hand, squeezes juice from a lime, creating a brown, which he then places on an unpainted wooden owl. “Yes the owl is also one of our sacred creatures, the great healer, quiet and humble.” He reveals: Now over time, and in the sun, this color will change or fade and be absorbed into the wood. So what our ancestors learned to do was take the dried sap from the copal tree and heat it up with honey. The resulting liquid is then mixed with the paint, changing the color a little; see, it becomes a deep orange … but most importantly it acts as a mordent making the color permanent, and a little shiny.” He adds powdered limestone, and the color changes to black. With the addition of baking soda it becomes magenta. A new base is then started, with crushed pomegranate seeds. Magically the pulverized pink is transformed into green with the addition of powdered zinc. Blue from the añil tree, indigo, the next color, is changed with the addition of bicarbonate, zinc, lime juice or the powdered lime mineral. More lime miraculously converts a deep purple into shades of grey, and then white. Corn mold or huitlacoche, a black gooey culinary delicacy, when fermented and then powdered, yields ochre. The red of the dried and then crushed minute insect, the cochineal, which feeds off its host nopal cactus, becomes orange with the addition of the juice of any of a number of acidic fruits.

The demonstration terminates with Jacobo asking, “what´s your favorite animal,” following which he finger paints a rabbit from the rainbow of colors on his palms, as only Alice could have imagined.

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With approximately 150 families now producing painted wooden figures in these and a couple of other smaller villages, the questions left unanswered remain: What facilitated and drove more carvers to adopt the papier maché style of using brilliant color combinations, and how can everyone in these villages make a living from this solitary art-form?

As with other crafts in the central valleys of Oaxaca, their production wasn’t always the primary means of sustenance for the populace. Traditionally, making crafts was a hobby or part-time trade, beginning with a paucity of items being sold to the odd passerby, adventurer or traveler. In the case of rugs or tapetes from nearby Teotitlán del Valle, there were trade routes that producers followed in order to effect more sales in other regions of the state, and in some cases beyond. But the primary means of family survival was working the land and small-scale ranching. In the case of the carving villages, there never was a broader market, although in San Martín Tilcajete embroidered shirts, blouses and dresses were an extremely well-received craft product throughout the 1960’s and into the 80’s.

Dramatic change in production and marketing of wooden carvings had its genesis in the 1940’s. The pan-American highway cut through the Sierra Madre del Sur mountains, reaching Oaxaca, opening up the state to the north, in particular Mexico City and the border states. Until then Oaxaca was relatively isolated notwithstanding a rail connection. By the 1950’s and early 60’s Americans and Canadians were prospering from the post-war boom, credit cards had been mailed to virtually everyone, and word spread of a new kind of vacation, in a third world country called Mexico. Jet air travel facilitated the transformation. The women’s movement meant more two income families, resulting in more disposable income for traveling. Mexicana Airlines and Oaxacan travel agents partnered to begin offering tour packages, which further facilitated tourism to the region.

The hippie movement of the 1960’s and early 70’s brought Oaxaca to the forefront of the alternative lifestyle, with throngs of youth and their pop idols traveling to Huautla de Jiménez, then a tiny Oaxacan village, to eat hallucinogenic mushrooms with the now infamous healer María Sabina. North American youth saw and purchased the first generation of contemporary wood carvings.

By the 1980’s, as a consequence of multiple factors, Oaxacan alebrijes had become well-established as folk art, with the market continuing to grow. The economic implication was that farmers and ranchers were able to spend more time carving and painting, and less time in the countryside and in marketplaces vending their produce and animals. With a new toll-road opening from Mexico City to Oaxaca in 1995, access to the southern state became even quicker and easier, and safe. In good conscience, travel writers were no longer able to warn tourists about driving the switchbacks, back-road banditos or cars overheating on secondary roads without service stations.

The future market for the art-form? While the odd visitor to a Oaxacan coastal resort such as Puerto Escondido, or the more popular Huatulco, does visit the state capital and the workshops of carvers like Jacobo, most do not. Within the next four years a new highway to the coast will open, cutting road travel time by a third or more. Even more sun worshipers will visit Oaxaca, and marvel at the art of Jacobo and María Ángeles.

Since opening their family workshop in 1996, without a doubt Jacobo and María have singularly raised the quality bar for other villagers who aspire to mirror their success. With Oaxacan wood carvings of superior quality now well established on the world stage, and access no longer an impediment, the challenge for others in San Martín Tilcajete will be to achieve the success of the Ángeles family through production of like quality, until now eluding most.

A challenge for all carvers in the region is to ensure a continuous supply of copal to meet demand. A reforestation project commenced about 15 years ago by the late master of contemporary Mexican art, Rodolfo Morales, continues through his Foundation. The Ángeles family and their friends and other villagers spend the last Sunday of each July, in the midst of the rainy season, planting, a part of the sustainable living concept for them: ensuring an ongoing supply of raw product, cutting only branches for making figures so that the tree continues to grow, reducing waste by utilizing the slivers and sawdust in repair work and any remaining twigs and branches as firewood for cooking, and using the sap and bark in paint production. “And you know,” Jacobo reminds, “we’ve also been using the hardened sap from the tree as incense, mainly at religious cememonies, for generations. There are even knifemakers down the road in Ocotlán, who engrave their hand-forged blades using a special ink made with the sap. Have you visited the cuchillería of Ángel Aguilar?”

For high end collectors, we can only encourage the success of all efforts and projects aimed at maintaining the growth and development of the Oaxacan woodcarving tradition, since it satisfies and advances our penchant for and obsession with quality hand-fashioned craftsmanship. For the artisans in the region, aside from the obvious economic importance, it’s part of maintaining their Zapotec heritage and illustrating the richness of the culture to the broader world.

The workshop of Jacobo and María Ángeles is located at Calle Olvido #9, San Martín Tilcajete, Ocotlán, Oaxaca ( t: 951-524-9047 ; w: http://www.tilcajete.org ; e: angeles@tilcajete.org ).

Alvin Starkman together with wife Arlene operates Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ). 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 writes about life and cultural traditions in Oaxaca, tours couples, families and small groups to the craft villages, ruins, colonial churches and more off-the-beaten-track destinations in Oaxaca state, and is a special consultant to documentary film production companies.

Vieja Lira Trattoria & Pizzeria --- Oaxaca Restaurant Review

Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.

Thankfully the recent expansion from 24 to 40 seats hasn’t detracted from the intimacy and quaintness of this downtown Italian restaurant and pizzeria. It still has classy yet welcoming décor of deep cranberry and white walls, simple pine tables and cushioned chairs stained dark to enhance a bistro-like feeling, and not to be overshadowed, floor-length draperies well-matched to the magenta / wine tones. The soft sound of jazz heard from the street is alone enough to make you want to take a peak in, and then you’re hooked.

You’re warmly welcomed by Italian owner Simone, who is almost always on hand. His presence remains, yet more in the nature of consultant, available to make suggestions, innately knowing when his attention is needed, and when not. He advises regarding selections from the printed menu, or large blackboard. We’ve never been disappointed with his wine recommendations, each having been carefully chosen by Simone so as to ensure appropriate pairing of food with wine, as well as affordability for middle-of-the-road patrons.

The primary culinary reason for visiting Vieja Lira is its pizzas. However, the fish, seafood, pastas and zuppas run a very close second. And even if the temptation to order a traditional plato fuerte is too great to resist, and you’re inclined to pass on the pizza, suggest to others in your party that pizza as one of the appetizers might satisfy the curiosity if not secret yearning of all.

Drinks arrive almost as readily as the crusty, soft yet dense bread, hand-cut to be drizzled with the herb infused olive oil or perhaps some paste-like salsa de chile de arbol.

The pizza is one generous size, with crust as thin as I’ve ever chomped, surely worthy of winning an award. It borders on the thickness of a tortilla or perhaps tlayuda. For this cena our eight-slicer had cheese, tomato and the usual herbs and spices, each quarter with a healthy topping of one of artichoke, black olive, mushroom and pepperoni. While it was the first appetizer to arrive, and we knew there were more entradas to follow, the four diners in our party were drawn to devour it all, without even a single, obligatory “no, you take the last piece.”

Our appetizers were rounded out with a bowl of ten or so medium-sized garlic shrimp, skewered, and an order of bruschetta of chicken liver paté, dare I say good enough to remind me of my grandmothers’ recipe from The Old Country. Watch out asiento, schmaltz is making inroads into Oaxaca.

My wife’s seafood bouillabaisse consisted of a medley of seafood and fish, juices appropriately spiced with a blend of fresh local herbs including your standard Italian selections, served in an oversized bowl. I continued with the crustacean theme, indulging in a hefty serving of fettuccini with seafood including squid, octopus, shrimp, scallop and local langostina in their shell. One of our guests ordered seared tuna over a bed of mixed exotic greens. She’d requested “rare, much less than medium,” I piped in “almost still swimming,” yet the plate arrived disappointingly overcooked, bordering on well. Without question or discussion the dish was removed, and in short order another serving, properly grilled, arrived with appropriate apology. The final entrée was one of the daily specials, rabbit with choice of penne or linguini, in a tangy tomato sauce.

Two bottles of Italian merlot having been retired, the restaurant by now almost empty, we were nevertheless still inclined to continue with just a bit more catching up with good friends. A couple of brandies and herbal teas, a tiramisu, and a coconut ice cream served in its half shell, most agreeably put the finishing touches on an evening of overall contentment.

Vieja Lira
Trattoria & Pizzeria
Pino Suárez 100
Centro, Oaxaca
Hours: 1 - 11 p.m., closed Tuesday
Tel: 516 – 1122

Alvin Starkman together with wife Arlene operates Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ). 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, market towns, ruins and other sights in the state’s central valleys, and is special Oaxaca consultant to documentary film production companies.

Filming a Documentary in Oaxaca: Advice for the executive producer

Alvin Starkman M.A., LL.B.

If traditional business seeks out consultants with a working knowledge of Mexico in attempting to carry out an enterprise in the country, why shouldn’t documentary filmmakers do the same? Doing so could reduce their costs and potential liability, enhance the likelihood of producing an award-winning enterprise, and provide a necessary sense of respect for the people who ultimately will be lining their pockets. This doesn’t mean retaining the high-priced so-called experts, but rather using common sense and following some simple guidelines. And the further south from the U.S. border filming is based, the more important it is for the production crew to be sensitive to the cultural differences between its members and their subjects.

Driver, Guide or Interpreter

Some have suggested using a driver and a guide, and others have done just fine with a guide who speaks both English and Spanish. Most film crews coming to Oaxaca with a team of 4 or 5 include someone who is bilingual. But using this individual as an interpreter removes him from the primary job he was hired to do. It is therefore desirable to hire an English speaking guide who has a good, working knowledge of Spanish, making a driver unnecessary and a waste of funds. The same holds true with a Mexican guide who is bilingual and has lived in the United States or Canada and thus understands the cultural differences between members of the crew and native Oaxacans (more about this later).

Aside from linguistic skill and the issue of cultural norms, an important aspect of hiring a bilingual guide is his ability to assist you with your groundwork prior to your arrival, which includes suggesting locations for daily shoots, providing advice as to how to fill your calendar so your crew is not too rushed yet is not left sitting around for valuable half days, and making sound recommendations regarding accommodations in terms of location, facilities and reliability. It’s the same if you are planning to have a producer scope out Oaxaca before the filming, and more so if you intend to arrive in the city blind --- of course aside from having done your research. Without a doubt this means having a great deal of trust in your expert on the ground. Have you been communicating with him frequently through email as your tentative schedule of working days becomes firmer? Have you spoken to him on the phone a couple of times? Do his suggestions regarding shooting locations, accommodations, etc., seem to be in sync with the reasonable expectations of your team? What is his educational, employment and broader experiential background? Based on the foregoing, do you trust that he will live up to or perhaps even exceed your initial expectations for him?

You might not feel comfortable placing such responsibility on the shoulders of a virtual stranger, and feel somewhat uneasy with having merely a local guide assume some of your tasks, but he has the ability to make your job much easier and stress-free and enhance your finished product … if chosen carefully. You’ll always retain ultimate decision-making power, so just think of him as a valuable resource, a consultant at your disposal, an advisor.

Accommodations

Your Man in Oaxaca may have been raised with the same standards of service, comfort and cleanliness, as you and your crew. If a Oaxacan, he has hopefully had some type of middle class American experience in his background. He should be able to provide valuable input into your quandary about which hotel to select. Have him confirm that WIFI is indeed up and running in each room (forget what the hotel website says), the pool has water in it, and the restaurant opens at 7 am if that’s what’s been represented. He knows the neighborhoods, distance to downtown and nearby restaurants of acceptable quality, accessibility to specific sites for your filming in and around the city, and much more.

While a suburban hotel perhaps provides more tranquility at the end of a hard working day, downtown establishments have advantages such as the crew being able to step outside and have a broad selection of eateries from which to choose, the ability to get a flavor of the city in terms of its residents, museums, churches, galleries, and so on. While the purpose of the visit is strictly work, your crew will appreciate any chance to unwind in its spare time, before calling it a night. Downtown Oaxaca provides an abundance of such opportunities.

The Releases

I’ve worked with entertainment companies out of both Florida and California, each with distinctly different approaches and attitudes towards the two fundamental releases traditionally required to be signed by both the subjects and the owners of locations being filmed.

The recommended practice, I would suggest, is for releases to be in Spanish, and signed by the individuals being filmed and owners of the locations being featured, before shooting begins. If prior to boarding the plane for Mexico, your consultant confirms that he has a package of signed releases, in Spanish, for each location, and of each individual tentatively scheduled to be filmed, you’re golden, and the work of the producer or his associate is reduced. Once the team is in Oaxaca there is accordingly one less item of business about which to be concerned on a daily basis, if not more frequently.

The polar opposite is the associate producer scrambling to get releases in English signed after the filming of a particular segment has been completed. An English release signed by a monolingual Oaxaca affords virtually no legal protection, and perhaps is even a detriment. Consider a hypothetical case brought before an American court: The judge hears that a crew member put an English release in front of a rural Oaxacan of indigenous background, whose linguistic skills were restricted to a guttural knowledge of Spanish and his native tongue.

If you’re not concerned about liability, then why bother with releases? Of course you have a concern, and if not you, then certainly “the suits.” So why not protect yourself, at least to the extent reasonably necessary and prudent under the particular circumstances?

It’s 7 pm, you’ve just finished spending the second half of the day filming the workshop of a Zapotec rug weaver in the nearby town of Teotitlán del Valle, your crew is packing up to leave, and your associate producer is still trying to convince the subjects to sign releases they don’t understand. And filming hasn’t gone all that smoothly because your commentator and producer have alienated the individuals as a result of not being sensitive to their accepted cultural standards for communication. The releases never get signed. You’ve wasted a half hour of valuable time that could otherwise have been spent by your crew in the hotel or having a leisurely dinner, and now it’s up to the head honchos in Hollywood to decide whether or not to use the segment without the comfort of executed releases.

Contrast the foregoing scenario with your local advisor having approached the rug maker in advance of the shoot, Spanish releases in hand, and walked away with everything explained and signed. Second best is to get the releases signed just before filming begins, using your advisor to facilitate the process. If he’s been used properly up until this point in the filming, he will already have a relationship with some if not all of your subjects and there will be no need to establish a level of trust from scratch.

If your practice is to use a large placard when filming in a marketplace or other open space where it is not practicable to have every subject appearing on camera execute a document, then have the release / notice board prepared before the day’s shoot, in Spanish, in large, clear print.

The Cultural Milieu

Oaxacans are different than New Yorkers, New Zealanders, Trobriand Islanders and Germans. There is a cultural norm, a way of dealing with established friends, and with strangers. A different style of doing business prevails. Do your advance research, or rely on your advisor to give you a quick lesson immediately upon your arrival. Better yet, arrange for him to be the liaison between you and your style of interaction, and your subjects and theirs … at least for the first couple of days until you and your team have become somewhat acculturated. Have your consultant explain to the subjects how the shoot will proceed, and perhaps even have him apologize in advance for what they may deem, from their perspective, a gruff and inappropriate style of interacting. This refers not only to the interaction between director and subject, but the communication style between crew members. As you know, each crew has a different group dynamic, or personality if you will. Some do indeed interact just fine with their subjects and amongst themselves. Regarding the latter, either they’ve worked together before, have otherwise discussed their proposed interaction, and / or have been sensitized to working within a foreign culture, the southern Mexico milieu.

Touching and grabbing a subject by the arm and placing her where you want her to be relative to the camera and props is often unacceptable even in Western society (perhaps aside from within the entertainment industry). Raising your voice in English is not the most effective way for you to get your point across, and doing so with your rudimentary Spanish may be even worse. Pointing, hand motions and the unconscious use of body language do not necessarily have the same meaning and significance to a Oaxacan as they do to Americans.

Roles and Relationships

In Oaxaca business get done much more effectively within the context of pre-established relationships. Often the production team does not have the time or the inclination to develop even an initial relationship of cordiality with its subjects (which is often all that is required). If you are not in a position to take the time in the course of your busy shooting day to first sit down with and get to know your subjects, perhaps over a hot chocolate and sweet roll, then when selecting filming subjects use the contacts of your consultant whenever possible, because they are most likely based on pre-established relationships of friendship, kinship, compadrazgo (relationships based upon ties developed between families through the appointment of godparents) or business. However, it is crucial that you firstly, respect that your consultant must continue to live with his contacts, and secondly, understand and accept that he will be protective of them.

A case in point is a recent filming experience. The executive producer (perhaps in conjunction with an assistant and researcher) back home came up with a list of storylines, and a couple of names of individuals he thought would best advance those segments he wanted to film. During his pre-production visit to the city he met briefly with two prospective subjects from his list. A tentative agreement was reached to use them as central figures in the documentary. At the last moment one simply refused to participate; the other was only partially helpful in advancing the producer’s goals. In both cases, at the eleventh hour I was required to call upon friends / business associates to help us out of the bind, and thankfully they came through. I had pre-established relationships based upon mutual trust and respect with each.

The producer also asked me for suggestions regarding subjects for other film segments. With regard to my proposed list of contacts for filming other storylines in the documentary, each individual and family fully cooperated with the production. I religiously called upon people with whom I had previously dealt.

The producer’s incentives of free business promotion, a bit of money, and the thought of 15 minutes of fame were insufficient motivations for his chosen subjects to make their best efforts cooperate to their full extent, or at all. The reason was the lack of a pre-existing relationship. Of course matters do not always unfold as such, but in the case of this particular week of shooting, the contrast was striking.

Using individuals selected by your advisor has its implications. Your subjects have to be directed, or managed might be the preferred term within the context of an American team working in Oaxaca. Is the director / producer prepared to have the advisor actually work with him? Probably not, because it would mean seemingly giving up direction and control. But if a shoot seems to be falling off the rails, or the struggle to get what you want appears to be unending and nerves are beginning to wear thin, injecting this new “assistant” into the process might be the most prudent approach, if only for special circumstances. Take your advisor aside, tell him what you’re trying to achieve, and let him interact with a subject which seems to be resisting. Hopefully, using your consultant in this fashion will not be necessary. But sometimes it is. It all depends on the training of the members of your team, their sensitivity to the differences in cultural traditions, and patience.

We were just outside of Tlacolula de Matamoros, filming the processes employed in making mezcal, Oaxaca’s state alcoholic beverage made from the maguey or agave plant. The stage had already been set for a disastrous segment, with the producer having alienated Fernando, one of the two brother mezcaleros (brewmasters, to use more familiar parlance). The crew arrived, the briefest of introductions were exchanged, and then the producer began directing which of Fernando’s workers should be doing what, and when. I was an observer only, having already played my part in selecting the facility to be filmed, introducing the producer to one of the brothers a couple of weeks earlier, and bringing the new team with an unknown on-site producer to rural Oaxaca for a full day of filming all about agave.

The most gratifying moment when touring clients to mezcal operations is when by chance one comes across a facility which happens to be engaged in all facets of the process at virtually the same time. I had been assured earlier that the facility would be producing mezcal on this day, but I had no idea that virtually all phases of production would be occurring simultaneously. They rarely are. Nothing would have to be staged or contrived if the shooting were handled with sensitivity, aside from slowing down and repeating the steps employed.

Because of how the team’s interaction with Fernando and his work crew had been unfolding, Fernando refused to instruct his workers to slow down to enable the cameraman, commentator and producer to shoot each stage. None was going to be repeated if not caught on camera at that particular time. There would be no staging, the producer came to learn. No angles, no two shots, no nothing … as long as the relationship between team and subjects remained in conflict.

I listened to the voices of the commentator and producer increase in pitch, and watched the cameraman turning every which way while crossing cable with the sound technician, all the while Fernando sitting back and watching his workers make mezcal at their usual pace, and ensuring that they continued to do so. My limited responsibility had previously been defined, rather clearly, by the producer. Nevertheless, I decided to step out of my role as guide, driver and occasional interpreter.

I quietly walked over to Fernando. I explained to him that I knew how he felt, apologized for putting him in contact with the film crew in the first place, and asked if he would do me a huge favor (favorsote) and slow down the process and enable the crew to get the filming they wanted. I assured him that whatever he needed in terms of compensation for the trouble, aggravation and increased costs to him, would be looked after.

Had the crew been sensitized to accepted custom, all would have proceeded smoothly. Had the film producer and his team started off with an informal chat that had nothing to do with filming, a relationship, notwithstanding its seeming superficiality, would have set the stage for a productive and smooth afternoon of filming. Conflict does take its toll on a film crew, no matter its members’ level of professionalism.

Of course each in the production team has a role, and in many cases one must not disturb the order of this universe. It is suggested, however, that some consideration be given to providing your advisor with an expanded role with some flexibility, subject of course to his capabilities and the personalities of your team members. While this may be stepping out of the box for documentary film makers, if the details and rationale are explained to the team, it makes for a much easier shoot and more harmonious relationships between crew members and their subjects. Egos may have to be shed, hopefully only to a limited extent.

It important that you explain in the clearest of terms to your advisor what his tasks will entail and role will be, discuss any suggested deviation from the norm, and ensure that he knows the functions of each of your crew members, the chain of command, etc. This may be his first time being used in a capacity other than that of purely tour guide. But if that’s all you want of him, then no such discussion ought to be necessary.

After you’ve left Oaxaca

Your consultant’s role and responsibilities should not be perceived as terminated simply because you’ve completed your filming and are back in the studio. He and his fellow Oaxacans are just as interested as you are in ensuring that their city and surrounding villages and sights are accurately depicted for the viewing public, and more generally that the production is a success. They have a strong sense of pride and an uncanny desire to be helpful.

In the course of shooting you will have been asked when the production will be aired. Many of your subjects have relatives in the U.S. who will want to view the program, and they may have access to the show via their own cable or satellite. Since you won’t have that information at the time, feel free to impose upon your consultant to be the one to advise the subjects once you have particulars. This means letting him know as soon as you know, since he may have to travel to outlying villages to advise the others.

Your consultant may have a comprehensive mailing list of travelers from abroad with a special interest in Oaxaca. Oaxaca is one of those cities in the world which invoke such passion. After all, that’s why you’ve chosen it. He should be pleased to email details of the airing of the production to his contacts, which will assist in improving your ratings. In my particular case, the list has upwards of 1,000 email addresses.

You’ll also be asked for copies of the DVD, and will be given particulars of to where to send it. As long as you provide your consultant with a couple of originals, he should be amenable to making copies and distributing them.

Documentaries do not always get the facts straight, no matter how competent the research that has gone into the production and the care with which editing has been done. The greater the accuracy or perception of factual correctness, the better your production will be received. Consider having your consultant vet your finished product prior to airing, and provide you with a list of any inaccuracies and their corrections. You will then be in a position to decide whether or not they are sufficiently serious as to warrant yet a further and final edit.

Summary

A carefully selected Oaxacan guide can and should be as important and critical a crew member as any other in the production team. His job should begin long before shooting begins. He ought to significantly impact the finished product because of his particular knowledge of the city, its environs and the unique cultural mores of its people; his personnel contacts; and his ability to guide the production in his capacity as an advisor to the producer. His role can be flexible, and adapted to circumstances. It can broad, relative to the quality of your advance research, your trust in his expertise, and your willingness to give up just a small fraction of your directorial control and responsibility. On the other hand it can be extremely limited. But if so, ensure that you’ve otherwise appropriately covered off matters of language, understanding of the culture within which you’ll be working, and knowledge of the city and surrounding towns, villages and sights you’re planning to film. He can shave time off of your workday, and more importantly reduce the inherent stressors which inevitably plague the making of a documentary in a foreign land.

Alvin Starkman received his Masters in Social Anthropology in 1978. After teaching for a few years he attended Osgoode Hall Law School in Toronto, thereafter embarking upon a successful career as a litigator until taking early retirement in 2004. He now writes; leads small group Oaxacan tours to the craft villages, markets, ruins and other sights; and continues to work as special Oaxaca consultant to various documentary film production companies. He and wife Arlene own Casa Machaya Oaxaca Bed & Breakfast ( http://www.oaxacadream.com ).