It is the first day of our self guided, three day tour of Oaxaca City. We head to the huge and bustling Mercado Abastos in search of the perfect huipile, textlie or hammock or some lead on something strange and beautiful. This market must span over several city blocks. Outside, vendors and taxis and buses bound for all over the state idle and zoom by. A caller hangs precariously at the doors of the buses singing to passengers before he is swallowed up and carried away to his final destination. It is hot, the air is filled with fumes. I am jazzed. It takes me back to all the travels, all the markets. It smells like...like some home that resides in me. I can't wait to go inside the belly of this beast.
to it It is