Mexico Day 76: Hallelujah, a washing machine

Santa Maria del Tule, Oaxaca //

The silence we experienced earlier this week in the desert is replaced by the mash-up of acoustics we’ve grown used to no matter where we are in Mexico.  Chirping birds, barking dogs, cawing roosters, popping fireworks, ringing church bells, and loudly amplified music fills the air here at El Rancho RV park outside the city of Oaxaca.  However, I pay no attention to the area’s soundtrack this morning as my sights are set on one thing and one thing only.  A short twenty paces from our truck is a washing machine and it may as well be a pot of gold because that’s the level of excitement it induces.  Six weeks without a washer will do that to you.  

It comes as no surprise that laundry is what we dedicate our day towards.  What does catch me off guard is the elevated mood that results as every towel, sheet, and item of clothing in our camper is cleaned.  I’ve become accustomed to how dirty this lifestyle can be at times but living in such a way has also facilitated a giddy appreciation for when the ability to refresh presents itself.  The icing on the cake are the clean bathrooms complete with piping hot showers and toilets that, unlike most places we’ve been, include seats!  With these two things right out our back door, I see no reason to leave this place anytime soon.

In celebration of being clean, we leave our gringo compound and set out on foot down the dusty streets of Santa Maria del Tule to find a place to eat.  It’s a small town with as many pedestrians as vehicles.  Kids ride past us on bikes, women sweep the streets in front of their homes, and street vendors housed in small makeshift stands cook food to order.  At one point a group of younger folks walking down the road appear fascinated by our presence.  One man, who appears drunk, is emphatically telling us something in Spanish while his buddy joins in but luckily can speak a bit of English.  He asks where we’re from and how long we’re here.  He is amazed to hear that we drove all the way to Oaxaca from the US.  He goes on to tell us “the party” starts in two hours as he points down the road.  We have no idea what he’s talking about but can tell that he assumes “the party” is where we’re headed.  A few hours later Mark connects the dots when he remembers Heather telling us earlier in the day that today is the Super Bowl.  These two guys assumed us gringos were looking for a place to watch the game.

Instead we find a lively restaurant serving authentic Oaxacan food.  Mark orders mole enchiladas, his favorite and also something Oaxaca is known for, while Heather, Adam, and myself decide to try Tlayudas.  I’m excited to have reached a region of Mexico where the food is of an entirely different variety from the Mexican we’re used to.  A tlayudas, a popular dish here, is a large crispy corn tortilla covered with black bean puree and a variety of topping choices usually including some kind of meat and cheese.  When our food arrives we are astonished by the size of our meals.  Each tlayuda looks like our own personal 15” pizza.  Mark’s mole is packed with flavor while the rest of our meals are lacking, however the atmosphere more than makes up for it.  

At sunset, beneath a pink cotton candy sky, we walk a few blocks back to camp.  The eighty-five degree day has cooled to a lovely seventy-five, the air is dry, and mountains surround us in the distance.  I’ve had high hopes for Oaxaca for months now.  It’s only been twenty-four hours but so far I’m getting good vibes.  My desire to linger in this area for a week, maybe more, is growing.  But there are no reservations on this trip, no itinerary to follow or schedule to keep.  That’s the beauty of a winter spent roaming, what we want to do tomorrow, can be figured out tomorrow.

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