Shdiuziuniubiu.

Sunday, I ate breakfast in the pseudo-restaurant of my hotel. It proved to be a great way to meet people and get tips on things to do in the area. I met a couple from Chicago named Frida and Iliud (who were a lot of fun, and come to Oaxaca every year), a nerdy American law student, and a Brasilian named Maria Fernanda. I chatted with them a bit, and then I was off on my tour. Frida and Iliud went along.

First, we visited the village of El Tule, home of... El Tule. This tree is one of the top contenders for most gigantic tree in the world, and is also believed to be the most massive living thing in the world. It dwarfed the church it was next to. See for yourself:

Next, we visited the little village of Teotitlan del Valle. This pueblito is famous for its weaving, and justly so - using mostly traditional (and surprisingly ingenious) methods and all natural materials, they make some really pretty stuff. But do I seem like the kind of person who goes rug shopping? Hell, no. Instead, I learned a few phrases of Zapoteco (the primary language of indigenous Teotitlán) from the owner of a shop we visited, Don Jesús. The title of this post is how you say "thanks" - see if you can pronounce that, suckers.

Equipped with mad Zapotec language skills, we moved on to Mitla, the capital of the pre-Hispanic Zapotec nation. The ruins there were not highly remarkable, but they had geometric patterns unlike anything I had seen (or have seen) in Mexico. I also got to climb down into some tombs, which were so tiny I almost had to go on hands and knees.

We also stopped at a market in Tlacolula, but it was.... a market. Whoo.

We came back to Oaxaca, and I went and ate my Típico Oaxaqueño, my little comedor. Afterwards, on my way home... I heard music. When you hear music in Oaxaca, follow it, because you are bound to enjoy yourself. This time, it was a little neighborhood fiesta to celebrate an image of the Virgin that had appeared some years ago (I told you, every day is a religious festival in Mexico). The main event?

Lucha libre. Lucha libre is like American pro-wrestling, except much funnier. The wrestlers deck themselves out in costumes and masks. At this party, in was a two-on-two affair. Los Rudos (the bad guys) versus Los Técnicos (the good guys). Los Rudos always fought underhandedly, while Los Técnicos were honest. The ref always sided with Los Rudos (and ended up getting his ass kicked for it in the later matches). Los Técnicos usually get stomped on early on, but end up with a furious display of skill and win the match. Of the four matches of three rounds that I watched, Los Técnicos only lost one match. One guy was actually really, really acrobatic and awesome to watch. The others (including Batman) were mostly just amusing.

There was also a greased pole with a bunch of prizes at the top. Several people made attempts, but the girl who finally ascended to the top had the help of five or six people beneath. She threw down the prizes to her friends and family, and then lit off a fireworks wheel at the top of the pole. She slid down, and people started running everywhere as sparks showered the area. Finally, a little disc shot off the top of the fireworks wheel, flying off into the night to burn somebody's house down. I love it.

Back at the hotel, I chatted a bit with my Norwegian neighbor, who was a philosophy teacher. He told me about the location of La Casa de La Cultura Oaxaqueña. This will be relevant later.