Someone once said and it’s often repeated, “It’s all about the journey, not the destination”. For me, Mexico has been the journey and Oaxaca the destination I landed on not knowing it contained all the magic in one spot; the good, the frustrating, the beautiful that is old Mexico. A real live burro in the nativity scene, less than a dollar for 20 fresh tortillas, tamales stuffed with chicken mole and wrapped in banana leaves eaten at a food stall with the kindest of strangers, subversive political art produced by the most unassuming kind souls. Having regular spots where I purchased said tortillas and coffee and fruits, a routine I held among 80 year-old Zapotec women with silk ribbons woven into their braided hair. Of all, the mountain range surrounding the city with it’s orange tinge in the morning, blue-green by noon and pink tie dye swath of a reflected sunset by evening was a better view than almost any I’ve seen. Mt. Rainier stands big and proud. The Sierra Madre Range holds you, encircling the valley and all within.
My journey here is ending sooner than expected, and this is why there is no final set destination, so we can continue exploring in the every day as well as the exciting and new. So I head north, and I’m bringing an amazing experience with me. A wise Mexican artisan said to me “I extend my hand to you across our borders, in solidarity.” I have a few more posts I drafted along the way that I will put up over the coming weeks. I am so thankful you have read and enjoyed what I’ve shared.
The broad highway, inclusive of all our dreams, hopes and wishes. It isn’t narrow or constricting unless we let our fears make it so.