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February 1, 2008
I arrived in Puerto Escondido on the 21st, around 6 a.m. (bus
left second class station at 10:30 p.m.). The mistake I made travelling
in the other direction was to take the first-class bus. There was some
talk around Hostel Paulina about buses being stopped by robbers, but
Marcel said that it’s mostly the first-class buses that get robbed,
usually around Pochutla. (I guess it stands to reason: the poorer people
take the second-class bus, and they have nothing worth stealing; so why
rob them?) In any case, it was an uneventful trip. We made one toilet
stop around 2 a.m. That’s where I noticed that the bus was a part of a
convoy of four buses, all bound for Puerto Escondido.
It’s been good to get back to la playa. Life is easy
here. I have no demands on my time, which gives me space to reflect on
my experience in Oaxaca. The teacher’s wife, as expected, did not
accompany me. Marcel did, for reasons of his own. We got a deal on a
cabaña at Hostel Shalom – preferable to us both because we can lock the
door and feel somewhat safe in believing that our stuff will still be
there when we return.
Days pass so quickly here. I am awake early, sitting by the
pool, watching the sun come up and writing. The roosters are going
off-duty, and the Zanates
have begun their day, filling the air with their paeans to the tropical
morning, the sounds of whistles, squeaks and creaks. Soon I’ll walk a
couple of blocks down the Rinconada to El Cafécito for
breakfast, and then back a block to the Mini-Super for some time on the
internet and a bit of chit-chat with some of the ex-pats (Canadian
American, German and Dutch, mostly) who gather there. Later on I’ll walk
on Playa Zicatela and watch the sun set. I’ll probably have
spaghetti a la bolonesa at La Galeria, before walking home (for a total
distance of about four or five miles). I’ll read for a while (mostly
articles I’ve downloaded from the internet, as well as a book about
APPO) and fall asleep listening to the geckos making a sound like
smooth, round stones clicking together. The world seems so peaceful
here.
Meanwhile, back in Oaxaca … in yesterday’s El Imparcial
the front page story concerned the assassination of Alejandro Barritas,
Director of la Policia Auxilair Bancaria Industrial y Commercial,
his bodyguard and two other people (apparently the wrong place at the
wrong time) in a park near the airport. URO said that the murders were
connected to the drug war (which seems to be the usual explanation for
these things), and are a response to increased military presence in
Oaxaca. The article also said that other possible motives were being
investigated. (One of these, possibly, may be, according to an article
in Noticias, the fact that the assassinated cop was one of the
principal repressors of APPO during the uprising in 2006, and employed
paramilitaries against the leaders of the movement, for which he was
investigated by the Supreme Court of Justice.) Another online source,
Nerve News of India, reported: “Last Tuesday and Thursday, two other
policemen were also killed in two separate incidents in Tuxtepec town
and Oaxaca city.” All this since I left Oaxaca city.
Puerto Escondido is located on the Pacific Coast in the state of
Oaxaca. It seems so much more tranquil, politically; and yet I don’t
see cops milling around on street corners in the dozens, “keeping the
peace” (or keeping a lid on things). However, there is a fair amount of
personal crime – rape, theft and robbery, mostly. Many joggers on Playa
Zicatela are accompanied by dogs for protection. (Dogs … that’s
another whole story.) Last night at the Mini-Super I heard that a woman
had been robbed at knifepoint on the steps leading up from Playa
Carrizalillo . Other than the ubiquitous political campaign signs
neatly painted on available stretches of wall along the streets (signs
that remain long after the election is over), I haven’t seen much
political graffiti here. On the way to Playa Zicatela there is
one house, surrounded by a wall, with a neatly-lettered sign that reads,
Ulises Appoyamos” (“We support Ulises”). I wonder why. No one
else seems to (even the wealthy). His methods of “governance” have
created problems for everyone, including owners of upscale hotels and
restaurants in Oaxaca – everyone except those with whom he shares his
plunder.
Even so, extreme poverty is not as noticeable here as it is in
Oaxaca City, possibly because it’s easier to live cheaply here, and the
climate is so pleasant you could live outdoors – if it weren’t for the alacráns
(scorpions). Just kidding. Marcel was stung by a small one in his bed
last night and, actually, it was no big deal. There were no
after-effects. Other people told him that they had been stung by
scorpions without experiencing the dreaded toxic symptoms of pain,
numbness, difficulty breathing and swallowing, or respiratory or
cardiovascular failure.
Culture shock has abated. I’ll be posting more frequently, since
I have easy and cheap internet access at the Mini-Super. Now it’s time
for a walk on the beach.
feral@renegaderesearch.org
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