Beans and Potatoes

Saturday, November 05, 2005

Sloth Day and Mezcal Night

Note: This entry doesn't sound totally right to me; I might be mixing days. In fact, I think the dinner was the night before. Ah, well.

Tuesday, I was a major sloth. I slept in late, woke up to do my laundry (which I had to do by hand because the lavanderías in Oaxaca are outrageously expensive), and lounged in a hammock while I waited for it to dry. Which was about eight hours.

In the afternoon, I headed out to get some lunch. On the way, I met up with Rick (another person from my hotel, this time like Willie Nelson from California) and we chatted a bit. Nice guy. We handled a few chores in El Centro, including picking up his rental VW Bug. He gave me a lift back to the hotel - for me, that's some pretty high-class transit.

After a couple of more hours in a hammock, I got ready to go get some food when, through the front door of the hotel, came Reidar and Maria Fernanda. Órale. They told me they had met by chance, but had ended up spending the whole afternoon together. WhooooOOOooo. The three of us (it was still not entirely obvious to anybody, me or them, that they were rather enchanted with each other) went off to eat. This became a fiasco rapidly - Oaxaca is not really a late night town, and between their pickinesses and my absolute lack of opinion, we spent two hours finding a restaurant. Jesus. When we got there, we split a big platter of Oaxaqueño specialities and a bottle of Chilean wine. Fernanda and Reidar got into an argument about a romance film, and that (plus all the other clues) made me realize what was going on. Nobody would fight like that unless there was something else going on.

The next day, I ate lunch with them again. Reidar felt a little sick afterward, and went back to the hotel to rest; and then Maria Fernanda and I had a long conversation in which she finally revealed her feelings for Reidar, telling me that "Maybe it will surprise you, but..." I told her that it had been painfully obvious since the night with the wine, and she blushed. Sheesh. We met up with Reidar much later, and went to buy some beer. I got almost a block ahead of them because they were being, well, enamored with each other. I got the beer, we went back to the hotel - they insisted I come sit with them in the hammocks. I drank my two beers as fast as I politely could, and then bailed out of there, leaving my "abuelitos" (when they found out I was 21, they made a big deal about how young I was - so I make a big deal about how old they are) to cuddle in a hammock together. Lucky for me, Frida and Iliud were on the other terrace getting drunk with a 40-something Brit with dreadlocks. Perfect.

We sat and drank beer and mezcal. Mezcal will definitely kick your pansy ass. We traded stories about travels and politics and whatnot. Phil, the elderly white rasta, is barely employed, but somehow has managed to travel all over the world - India, Nepal, Thailand, Mexico. It was just a really great night; somewhat difficult to convey with words. Honestly, my entire time in Oaxaca was like a dream. The next day was fairly unremarkable: I spent it picking up a couple of presents, wandering the city, and eating food, glorious Oaxaqueño food (including cow-head tacos). My bus to Puerto Angel left at 12:40am Friday morning.

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