After a couple of weeks in Oaxaca, I was anxious to get on the bike again. We had heard about a native festival in the nearby village of Teotitlán called La Danza de la Pluma, The Dance of the Feathers. Apparently this event was "not to be missed." As the date approached (December 12), it became evermore appealing to me to go there by bike. Actually, I decided I wanted to do that only the night before. [It's true, our lifestyle these days is pretty free to be spontaneous and much of it doesn't require any fore-planning. We just have an idea to do something and then decide if we will do it or not, and worry about the details when the time comes. Of course, this relaxed habit has bitten us in the asses in other areas where more planning would have been beneficial. But I digress...] Soon Lewis was on board too, and figured out a route to get us there that didn't involve the highway. He too plotted this the night before, and as usual did an excellent job. The way was rural, beautiful, and mostly traffic-free.
We were a bit slow to rise in the morning (no surprise there) but finally got on the road just before 11. We knew it would probably take around 2 hours to get there on 15 miles of back roads. No one seemed to know when the show was supposed to start, not even blog articles on the subject. I surmised that it would be sometime late in the afternoon, and then "on Mexican time". We had ample time to get there.
We didn't start off too well, having already bickered a bit because we were leaving later than our hoped departure time (this always happens, both the lateness and the ensuing bickering). A few blocks from home I realized I forgot something but I didn't want to turn around so I kept it to myself and kept moving. A few blocks later, we both realized that we didn't have our little computers that clock milage and speed. A disappointing loss, but not worth going back for, even though we were still relatively close. Our third forgotten item was kinda important, but we were already on the edge of town when Lewis noticed he was without his bottle of water. Whatever, we would just have to buy one!
The day took an upward turn shortly after that, when we discovered that the unavoidable trafficky road we were going to have to take for 6 or so miles to get out of town actually had a really nice separated bike path right down the middle of it. This was an especially pleasant surprise from a city that otherwise seems to have no bike infrastructure or any sort of grass roots bike culture. But this path did make sense, being that it utilized an existing old railway and it connected Oaxaca to the touristic satellite pueblo of Santa María de Tule, home of the supposed largest tree (trunk circumference) in the world. Seriously, they even DNA tested the thing to prove that it is all one tree and not several that grew together over time, as can sometimes be the case with Montezuma cypresses.
We paid the tree a token visit, as it was right there in the middle of town, but we didn't get very close. In addition to a protective fence around it, there is a secondary fence that you can only get into by paying an unknown fee. I readily admit though that this is only an assumption, as there were only a few folks inside and lots hanging around the outer fence. We didn't investigate matters... I guess we are not that excited about a big-ass town tree, and besides we had a ride to finish! But it was quite impressive, and being such a short and safe bike ride outside of Oaxaca (and probably a cheap cab fare), it is well worth the visit. Besides, the center of Tule is quite lovely, and there is a permanent indigenous artisan market right next to the tree.
We didn't start off too well, having already bickered a bit because we were leaving later than our hoped departure time (this always happens, both the lateness and the ensuing bickering). A few blocks from home I realized I forgot something but I didn't want to turn around so I kept it to myself and kept moving. A few blocks later, we both realized that we didn't have our little computers that clock milage and speed. A disappointing loss, but not worth going back for, even though we were still relatively close. Our third forgotten item was kinda important, but we were already on the edge of town when Lewis noticed he was without his bottle of water. Whatever, we would just have to buy one!
The day took an upward turn shortly after that, when we discovered that the unavoidable trafficky road we were going to have to take for 6 or so miles to get out of town actually had a really nice separated bike path right down the middle of it. This was an especially pleasant surprise from a city that otherwise seems to have no bike infrastructure or any sort of grass roots bike culture. But this path did make sense, being that it utilized an existing old railway and it connected Oaxaca to the touristic satellite pueblo of Santa María de Tule, home of the supposed largest tree (trunk circumference) in the world. Seriously, they even DNA tested the thing to prove that it is all one tree and not several that grew together over time, as can sometimes be the case with Montezuma cypresses.
We paid the tree a token visit, as it was right there in the middle of town, but we didn't get very close. In addition to a protective fence around it, there is a secondary fence that you can only get into by paying an unknown fee. I readily admit though that this is only an assumption, as there were only a few folks inside and lots hanging around the outer fence. We didn't investigate matters... I guess we are not that excited about a big-ass town tree, and besides we had a ride to finish! But it was quite impressive, and being such a short and safe bike ride outside of Oaxaca (and probably a cheap cab fare), it is well worth the visit. Besides, the center of Tule is quite lovely, and there is a permanent indigenous artisan market right next to the tree.
Click'em for large view and commentary!
After picking up a bottle of water at a small pharmacy (11 pesos for 1.5 liter bottle, about $0.70), we were on our way. Soon we were out of town and on the back roads. To my delight, these were mostly dirt with just a bit of pavement in the several small villages we passed through. Sometimes not even then. There were several turns and no signage, and Lewis had to reference his maps often, which were just screenshots of Google Maps taken with our secondary camera. There was really no traffic besides the occasional moped, mototaxi (3-wheeled motorcycle buggy), bicycle, or herd of livestock, so we removed the helmets and sported our straw hats instead. The scenery continued to improve, and where I expected there to be a lot of climbing (Oaxaca is in a valley, right?) there was really very little. At one point we crossed a raised overpass that offered a very nice view of the valley, and of the busy highway below. Looking down on the traffic, we couldn't help but feel a little smug about our navigational choices.
At some point after that we took a wrong turn. No matter! We were following a valley and really couldn't get lost as long as we stayed at the bottom of it. It turned out to be a lovely detour, even if it did add a few miles to go around the other side of a hill in the middle of the valley. The roads became smaller and smaller until in one town we couldn't tell what was the road and what was a driveway. Deflected by a herd of goats we found ourselves in a dead end of modest houses. Lewis asked for directions through an open casa window that was projecting the social sounds of a family enjoying their Saturday afternoon together. A smiling woman came out and pointed to a dusty track down the hill, as we had climbed a bit to get up to this tiny neighborhood. Normally I am a bit annoyed when I have to climb for no reason and turn back around, but on this day it just felt like part of the adventure. It helped that my bike was not fully loaded!
We carefully picked our way down the hill through the stones and sand and got back on the right route. This road was smaller yet... nothing more than a two-wheel track in some places. Lewis exclaimed, "I can't believe this is on the map!" The landscape was the best yet. It was difficult to get action shots while steering the bike with one hand and dodging large stones, ruts, and thorns. The things I do to bring these photos to you!
We carefully picked our way down the hill through the stones and sand and got back on the right route. This road was smaller yet... nothing more than a two-wheel track in some places. Lewis exclaimed, "I can't believe this is on the map!" The landscape was the best yet. It was difficult to get action shots while steering the bike with one hand and dodging large stones, ruts, and thorns. The things I do to bring these photos to you!
After a long stretch of stunning country road, we began to roll into the little towns adjacent to Teotitlán and found pavement again (or flat stone or cobblestone, it always varies). Soon we were in Teotitlán proper, as we surmised by the appearance of artisan shops of wool rugs and the usual embroidered clothing, as well at restaurants. As we whizzed down the hill we noticed that a group of retirees that we had met in the city were inside having lunch. This was a good sign that the festivities had not yet begun, and hey we could use a little lunch too! So we decided to join them. Besides, we always enjoy showing off a bit when we arrive somewhere a notable distance by bicycle, especially when those on the receiving end of the show came the same distance on a highway vehicle of some sort. What was an uneventful 30 min bus ride for them was an exciting 3-hour exploration adventure for us. We had a relaxing lunch with our friends, and I enjoyed a Victoria and the local fare of tlayuda, which is sort of like a big crispy quesadilla with a bunch more ingredients.
After lunch we parted ways with the group and went to check out a wool shop down a side street. It appeared it was actually someone's home, and while contemplating this a little old lady came to the door saying "pase, pase!" We brought our bikes into the courtyard, where there was a weaving loom and lots of brightly colored yarn. In a side room there were piles of handmade wool rugs of all sizes. She started laying them out for us to see, and we quickly explained that we were traveling by bicycle and could not take more things with us. Not put off by this, she started showing us smaller rugs and mats for our consideration. Admittedly, it would be pretty awesome to travel with a wool mat to sit on or place at our occasional doorstep, but this was an indulgence that we just could not take. When she started showing me the bags however, my willpower weakened. Everything was beautifully made of natural hand spun wool colored with vegetable dye. One bag particularly caught my eye, and when she told me the price ($250 pesos, under $15) I decided to go for it. I knew I would be doing some shopping at some point while in Oaxaca and shipping stuff home, so why not begin now!
After lunch we parted ways with the group and went to check out a wool shop down a side street. It appeared it was actually someone's home, and while contemplating this a little old lady came to the door saying "pase, pase!" We brought our bikes into the courtyard, where there was a weaving loom and lots of brightly colored yarn. In a side room there were piles of handmade wool rugs of all sizes. She started laying them out for us to see, and we quickly explained that we were traveling by bicycle and could not take more things with us. Not put off by this, she started showing us smaller rugs and mats for our consideration. Admittedly, it would be pretty awesome to travel with a wool mat to sit on or place at our occasional doorstep, but this was an indulgence that we just could not take. When she started showing me the bags however, my willpower weakened. Everything was beautifully made of natural hand spun wool colored with vegetable dye. One bag particularly caught my eye, and when she told me the price ($250 pesos, under $15) I decided to go for it. I knew I would be doing some shopping at some point while in Oaxaca and shipping stuff home, so why not begin now!
It was approaching 3pm, the time that the retirees had said they had been informed the show would start, and I was feeling a strong desire for a coffee. We headed towards the center, but found the streets eerily empty. There was a concentration of more rug and artisan shops just down the block from the church where the festivities would be held, but some of them appeared to be just opening up. The one cafe we saw was closed. We ran into one of the members of the lunch crew again, who told us that the new quoted time was 4, and that the others didn't want to wait any longer and had left. Not to worry though, he had more friends coming. We hung out a bit longer and I window shopped for a skirt but found nothing unique unfortunately. The clothing offerings in this town were the typical fare, it was the rugs and other wool weavings that truly shined here. Since there was no coffee available, I thought that ice cream would be the next best thing, so we went up to the church where our friend said there was an ice cream cart.
In the huge church yard there were 150 or so chairs set up around a rectangular space where it appeared the performance would be, but there were very few people around. 4:00 came and went and there were no signs that this thing was starting any time soon. We were becoming concerned, not wanting to cycle back in the dark. Then slowly a procession of pickups loaded with fruits and crates of beer and people on foot carrying baskets and colorful bowls of treats started coming in and arranging the goods around the inside edge of the rectangle, surrounding the dance floor. Many of the women were in traditional dress. The people began to take seats, and one musical band after another filed into the yard playing marching songs. Soon it was apparent in the crowd who the dancers were, men in colorful dress with enormous round feather headpieces. Things were finally getting interesting!
In the huge church yard there were 150 or so chairs set up around a rectangular space where it appeared the performance would be, but there were very few people around. 4:00 came and went and there were no signs that this thing was starting any time soon. We were becoming concerned, not wanting to cycle back in the dark. Then slowly a procession of pickups loaded with fruits and crates of beer and people on foot carrying baskets and colorful bowls of treats started coming in and arranging the goods around the inside edge of the rectangle, surrounding the dance floor. Many of the women were in traditional dress. The people began to take seats, and one musical band after another filed into the yard playing marching songs. Soon it was apparent in the crowd who the dancers were, men in colorful dress with enormous round feather headpieces. Things were finally getting interesting!
The first performance started after 5:00. The dancers lined up in two rows and faced each other, while a single dancer did a variety of jumps and prances in the middle. After his solo, the others broke formation and joined the fun with similar dance moves. This dance lasted about 10 minutes, then they took a break while the elder men of the region filed in to greet everyone in attendance and take their seats of honor. These formalities went on for a bit while the sun was sinking closer to the horizon. When the next dance performance started and appeared to be exactly the same as the first, we decided that we better get going. We could probably manage the ride home in the dark with our headlights, but would rather take in the always lovely Oaxacan sunset from our bikes in the countryside than watch the same dance again. We were riding straight towards it, after all. We were sad to leave what was looking to be a fun and interesting party later in the evening, but it was really the best choice to go, and hastily.
Our sunset ride was beautiful as expected, and quick since we already knew the way and this time we found the shortcut, and we were racing a bit to beat the darkness. It was fun to speed along, evading holes and hitting bumps all while the light was waning. It made me want to try this sort of speedy dirt trek riding with a proper mountain bike. Some day! We made it to Tule, home of the Big Tree, just as it got fully dark. We stopped to enjoy a modest fireworks display, probably in celebration of the Lady of Guadalupe holiday that all of Mexico was celebrating that weekend. But really it could have been for anything, as Mexico seems to be always having some sort of festivity somewhere. I quickly browsed the craft market, we grabbed another bottle of water, and we started back towards the city on the well-lit (at least the first half) bike path.
When we got home, we showered and went out to treat ourselves to a nicer than usual meal in the center of town. This delicious vegetarian dinner and two mojitos was a perfect way to end a great day of exploration!
"A few years ago, I bought an old red bicycle with the words Free Spirit written across its side - which is exactly what I felt like when I rode it down the street in a tie-dyed dress." - Drew Barrymore