The Textile Museum of Oaxaca Weaves Its Magic

El Museo Textil de Oaxaca is a free attraction — and well worth a quick visit. 

The Textile Museum of Oaxaca showcases contemporary art exhibits, such as Ephemerus by Cecilia Salcedo, which was in the upstairs gallery when we visited.

I know plenty of people go gaga for textiles. And while I can certainly admire the craftsmanship of a woven cloth (and have a great fondness for quilts), textile-centric excursions wouldn’t be on our short list. 

If the Museo Textil de Oaxaca wasn’t literally in the same building as our hotel (the delightful Casa Antonieta), I don’t know that Duke and I would have popped in. 

 And that would have been a mistake. 

“The museum is housed in a mansion with a green stone façade build by a Spanish merchant.

How did he earn his fortune? He exported cochineal, the red dye made from bugs that was more precious than gold — which provides a nice connection to the Museo Textil. ”

Even if textiles aren’t your bag, baby, you should stop by for a brief visit — even just to admire the design of the interior courtyard. A philanthropic venture of the Fundación Alfredo Harp Helú, a private foundation, the museum is open to the public and free to enter. So you really have no excuse not to devote time here. 

The museum is small, with a few galleries on the first floor and one upstairs.

A Material World

When we visited, we began on the ground floor, which is set up very much like an art museum — the textiles on the wall could very well be paintings. There are only a few small rooms, and a somewhat haunting nature soundtrack played as we wandered the galleries. 

One of the ground-floor galleries

The striking courtyard of the Museo Textil de Oaxaca

Upstairs, there was only one large room open to the public, and the exhibit when we were there felt a bit interactive. 

Ephemerus by Cecilia Salcedo was born of craving nature during pandemic lockdowns. I can remember Duke and I taking walks along Inner Lake Shore Drive in Chicago just to get out of the house when COVID-19 silenced Chicago. The lack of cars and other ambient noise meant we could hear birdsong like never before, and we noticed the buds appearing on the trees we passed every day. In a strange way, it was beautiful, as if the world had forced us to literally pause, listen and observe.

Salcedo used branches to hang her cloth prints of leaves — a project born of craving nature during the pandemic lockdown.

The trees seen through the balcony doors pair nicely with the nature re-creations in the exhibit.

The artist used a technique called ecoprinting, making stamps of leaves on bolts of fabric that are draped from the ceiling like banners. They pair nicely with the actual branches hung above and below, strewn about in piles of dirt and leaves — as well as the leaves in the trees that can be seen through the open balcony doors. I found the space to be very evocative, like entering a magical forest (if you have a good imagination, as I do). 

“All fleeting stages, even this pandemic, afford us the opportunity to renew our perspective of the world that surrounds us and, above all else, the role that we play in it,” writes Hector M. Meneses Lozano, the museum director, about the exhibit.

Salcedo used a technique called ecoprinting to leave the impressions of leaves on cloth.

The museum views itself, in part, as a place to showcase contemporary art, and that mission was obvious in this second-floor gallery. 

The textile museum is part of a massive building known as the Ex Convento de San Pablo, sharing the space with a boutique hotel and a cultural center.

History of the Ex Convento de San Pablo 

The Oaxaca Textile Museum is housed in the same massive edifice as not only Casa Antonieta but the striking Centro Cultural de San Pablo as well. 

The site originally housed the Convento de Santo Domingo Soriano. Established in the year 1529, it was the second Dominican foundation in the Americas. Later, the monastery was dedicated to Saint Paul, which explains why it’s now referred to as the Ex Convento de San Pablo. 

It seems little if any of the original structure still exists, though. At the beginning of the 17th century, a series of earthquakes caused massive damage, forcing the church to rent and sell off parts of the monastery. 

The first structure built on the site of the monastery was a small one-story adobe home — though it was torn down by Spanish merchant Ángel de Antelo y Bermúdez. Don Ángel built a two-story Oaxacan Baroque mansion, with a green stone façade, and the property became known as Casa Antelo. 

How did Don Ángel earn his fortune? He exported cochineal, the red dye made from bugs that was more precious than gold — which provides a nice connection to the textile museum. 

Wally and Duke were obsessed with the pattern of the courtyard wall — a sort of stone textile itself.

The structure was enlarged, and eventually gut-rehabbed to house the cultural center, hotel and textile museum, which opened in 2008. 

There’s a small shop on the first floor, which has some nice items but smelled a bit mildewy when we visited. –Wally

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The deets 

Admission: Free

Hours: Open every day from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. 

Tours: Free one-hour tours are offered at 5 p.m. (though these were discontinued during COVID)

Museo Textil de Oaxaca

Miguel Hidalgo 917
Centro Histórico
68000 Oaxaca de Juárez
Oaxaca
México

 

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A Travel Guide to Qatar Ahead of the World Cup

Is it safe for gay tourists to travel to this Muslim country? What is there to do in Qatar aside from the big event? How expensive is it? Here’s what you need to know before you go to Qatar. 

Al Wakrah Stadium is one of eight that the government of Qatar built to host the FIFA World Cup 2022.

The gulf state of Qatar is set for an influx of tourists this winter as the World Cup lands on its shore. There’s been a debate about how to pronounce the country’s name, but I’ve found you’re safe going with “Ka-tar.” 

It’s an unusual, even controversial, location for the World Cup; what’s considered the most popular sporting competition in the world is played during the summer months and has been ever since 1930 — but the heat in Qatar means it has been shifted to November. Also, the host country usually has a record of qualifications for the event, but Qatar has never been in the finals until now. 

“Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad al-Thani, the emir, or ruler, of Qatar, said LGBTQ+ visitors would be welcomed to the World Cup, but they must “respect our culture.””

Architect Zaha Hadid thought that claims that her Al Janoub Stadium resembles a vagina are “ridiculous.” You decide.

Still, with around 2.1 million tourists visiting annually and 1.8 million tickets sold for the competition, it promises to make 2022 a record-breaking year. The event is proving to be so popular the South China Morning Post reports that people are being offered to stay in tents in the desert, as the 30,000 hotel rooms have been booked up already.

The World Cup happens every four years and features 32 of the world's best soccer (or football to most of the world) teams. The United States will be there, joining England, Wales and Iran, and are expected to progress to the knockout stages. They're down in the overall ranking in the current Ladbrokes odds, but fans will still head out in large numbers, full of expectation. 

The Qatar University Stadium has been expanded to accommodate more fans in preparation for the World Cup.

If you’re heading to Qatar, you might not know what to expect from your team, but here’s how to prepare for whatever greets you off the field. The country is hoping that its new air-conditioned stadiums, hotels and museums will boost local and international tourism long after the games have ended. In fact, it has spent billions on infrastructure — including eight stadiums — in the 11 years since winning the bid to host.

Qatar is a Muslim country where most men wear headdresses and long white garments called thobes, like this trio in front of Souq Waqif, a traditional marketplace in Doha.

Religion

It’s important to understand that Qatar is an Islamic country, and there are certain aspects of its culture with which you must be familiar. For instance, drinking in public is banned, but there is a level of tolerance within the country. Alcohol is permitted in some places. 

Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad al-Thani, the emir of Qatar, says gays are welcome — just don’t be too gay.

And in a country where homosexuality is illegal many gay tourists are wondering if they’d be safe attending the World Cup. Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad al-Thani, the emir, or ruler, of Qatar, said LGBTQ+ visitors would be welcomed to the World Cup, but they must “respect our culture.”

The Qanat Quartier in Doha has been compared to Venice.

Transport in Qatar

Getting around Qatar is easy, with Karwa taxis being widely available and reasonably priced. Apps such as Careem and Uber also operate in Qatar, so you should never be stuck without a ride. In addition, there's a metro network with three lines; the red line connects Hamad International Airport with the city center and is useful for new arrivals.

Qatar is a country where you can get by quite cheaply — or you can travel in luxury.

Value

Qatar has two sides: One is very expensive and the other not. If you wish to take in top restaurants and luxurious hotels, the prices are sky-high. However, you can visit Qatar on a budget with ease. The World Cup might raise prices, but usually, the winter season sees hotel rooms available for around $60 per night. Eating out can also be done cheaply; food courts and street vendors can provide great food for as little as $20 per day.

The nighttime skyline of Doha as seen through the arches of the Museum of Islamic Art

Qatar Attractions

Visitors who venture outside the World Cup might be surprised to find a thriving art scene in Doha, the capital city. The Museum of Islamic Art is a must-see. It's a fantastic example of local architecture with a vast collection of glasswork, paintings and ancient manuscripts. Mathaf: Arab Museum of Modern Art is also worth a visit. 

The Museum of Islamic Art in Doha was designed by I.M. Pei, the same dude responsible for the pyramid in front of the Louvre.

There are also three new museums being built, including the Lusail Museum, which will boast the world’s most extensive collection of Eastern paintings, drawings, photography and sculptures.

Khor Al-Adaid, with its sweeping dunes, is also known as the Inland Sea.

There are plenty of natural attractions, too. The Al Thakira mangroves in the north and the salt flats along the coast are both natural beauties, while Khor Al-Adaid, the Inland Sea, is another highlight visitors shouldn’t miss. And the “Singing Sand Dunes” on the southwest edge of Doha are a great day trip for those wanting a desert safari. A favorite activity there is dune bashing: off-road driving in an SUV with wide tires that slide across the sand as if on ice.

The World Cup is undeniably changing the country of Doha, adding infrastructure and attractions — making it more of a travel destination.

Beyond the World Cup

Those traveling to Qatar solely for soccer won’t see the best of the country: hotels will be booked solid, transport networks stretched and crowds intense. However, if you come early or remain after the tournament, you'll find a beautiful country that’s more tolerant than the media has suggested, waiting to welcome you with open arms. –Max Hopper

Woodcarvers of Oaxaca Carve Out Their Niche

Manuel Jiménez is credited with starting the alebrije tradition in Oaxaca, but we’re smitten with the playful creations of Martín Melchor Ángeles.

Don Manuel Jiménez is credited with bringing the alebrije tradition to Oaxaca, and shifting the medium from papier-mâché to wood.

On our fifth day in Oaxaca, Wally and I were picked up outside Casa Antonieta, the hotel we were staying at, by folk art expert extraordinaire Linda Hanna. Having done our research, we knew that Oaxaca was famous for its brightly painted collectible wooden figures and that Linda was the perfect guide to explore the region. We were on the road by 9:30 a.m. and en route to San Antonio Arrazola, a small pueblo where the tradition began. 

These wood carvings are the newest of the local crafts yet draw on generations of skill. Even the capital’s fútbol (soccer) team, Los Alebrijes, is named after the locally produced wood carvings, which are an important source of income for their indigenous makers. According to Linda, prior to the 1940s, the region produced utilitarian items such as wooden spoons and molinillos, a utensil used to froth drinking chocolate. 

Alebrijes are believed to have been modern offshoots of nahuals, human-headed animal amulets worn by the Zapotec.

The origin story that Linda has heard often and which she believes to be the most credible involves a Zapotec tradition: Every baby was given a small nahual or nagual (pronounced “na-wal”) amulet to wear around their neck from the day they were born. These tokens took the form of animals from the 20-month Mesoamerican zodiac and were protective talismans symbolic of an individual’s alter ego that accompanied them throughout life.  

Don Manuel is no longer living, but his family carries on the woodcarving legacy.

Don Manuel Jiménez: The Alebrije Story Begins

“Manuel Jiménez was a peasant farmer who would be out there in the fields,” Linda told us. “And I think these people are, you know, born with a machete nearby. So carving is almost inherent in their DNA, and he was probably out there whittling away. He didn’t want to be limited by the size of the creatures, so he started making them bigger. At some point he had a bunch of them and would come into town, sit on some street corner, trying to sell them, probably not too effectively — until an American saw his work and was very impressed.”

Alebrijes take many forms but are mostly animals nowadays. Jiménez liked to do human faces, inspired by an ancient Zapotec tradition.

If you’re into alebrijes even half as much as Wally and Duke, consider having Linda Hanna take you on a tour of woodcarving artisan workshop homes.

We call Jiménez and his cohorts woodcarvers — but a lot of their craft involves painting. Alebrijes are known for their surprising mix of colors and patterns.

Jiménez, with the assistance of the foreigner, took these objects and presented them to the offices of the Tourist Council in Mexico City. The closest thing they could compare them to were the fantastical creatures Pedro Linares had been making out of papier-mâché, so they decided to also call these surreal, vibrantly colored wooden adaptations “alebrijes,” too. 

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What’s an Alebrije? Learn more about our favorite Mexican artisan tradition.

Click here

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About 45 minutes later, we were welcomed to Arrazola by a giant acid green praying mantis sculpture and a sign commemorating the town as la Cuña de los Alebrijes, the Cradle of Alebrijes. A short time after, we arrived at our destination, the museum workshop of the Jiménez family. Known locally as Don Manuel, the patriarch died in 2005 and is often credited as the father of Oaxacan alebrijes.

A fun sculpture of a giant praying mantis in Arrazola, the Cuña, or Cradle, of Alebrijes

As we parked and got out of Linda’s car, we noticed a man outside the studio enclosure with a converted bicycle grinding a metallic object against a spinning rust-colored disc. When we asked Linda what he was doing, she replied that he was a knife sharpener and it looked like he was working on a pair of scissors.

The charming courtyard at the Jiménez home, workshop and store

In the courtyard, a group of small, weathered and anatomically correct diablitos (little devils) playing guitars hung along a roughly textured stucco wall. 

Inside the workshop are framed photographs, newspaper articles and nahuales. One with a man’s face and mustache was sitting upright like a dog, another, ears back, crouched, appearing ready to pounce. A brightly colored figurine of Dante, the dog from the Pixar movie Coco stood atop a well-worn table.

The taller (pronounced “tie-yair”), or workshop, is operated by Don Manuel’s sons, Angélico and Isaías, and contains a small museum with glass display cases of their father’s work. They still sign Manuel’s name to their work — supposedly to honor his legacy. 

The patriarch specialized in nativity scenes, animals and nahuales. There’s even a children’s book, Dream Carver, that tells the story of a young woodcarver who breaks with a generations-old artistic tradition, inspired by the life of Don Manuel. 

A display case of some of Don Manuel’s works and the children’s book based on his life

There’s a shop/museum connected to the workshop.

“When these started selling, Jiménez tried to keep it a secret — which is impossible in a little village,” Linda said. “They know everything about you, good and bad.”

It wasn’t long before campesinos (farmers) in the nearby pueblos of San Martín Tilcajete and La Unión Tejalapan caught on and decided to carve and sell their products to tourists and collectors from North America and beyond. A new artisan tradition was born. 

When you see this mural, you’ll know you’re about to enter Don Manuel’s complex.

El Tallador de Sueños Museo-Taller
Álvaro Obregón #1
San Antonio Arrazola
Santa Cruz Xoxocotlán, 71233
Oaxaca
México

While we were in Arrazola, we stopped into Taller de Alebrijes Autóctonos, a massive store filled with colorful carvings.

Shopping Break 

In addition to Don Manuel’s workshop and museum, Arrazola has a concentration of shops on Calle Emiliano Zapata. Wally and I stopped by Taller de Alebrijes Autóctonos, a massive establishment with a vast selection of alebrijes. Linda had mentioned that a few artists use syringes to apply dots of acrylic paint to the surface of their creations. Sure enough, I noticed a woman working on a piece who was using a syringe to embellish a small wood carving.

Taller de Alebrijes Autóctonos
Emiliano Zapata #2-B
San Antonio Arrazola
Santa Cruz Xoxocotlán, 71233
Oaxaca
México

Martín Melchor Ángeles, our favorite alebrije artisan

The Story Continues: Martín Melchor’s Magical Menagerie 

The moment I first saw the work of Martín Melchor Ángeles on the Instagram feed of Mexico City-based freelance journalist Michael Snyder, I knew I’d found someone special. 

Our next stop was the taller of Martín Melchor Ángeles. A dusty, rose-colored wall sported a hand-painted sign with one of Martín’s signature dalmatians wearing a red shirt and blue pants riding a bicycle. 

Martín’s distinct whimsical handcarved animals include a menagerie of creatures: giraffes operating mototaxis, dogs on bikes, alligators in libraries, cows on stilts and more. His wife, Hermelinda, makes handsewn costumes for the figures on stilts. 

These are the alebrijes on stilts that Duke and Wally bought at Melchor’s workshop.

The stilt walkers were included as part of a collaborative exhibit, Transcommuniality, by multidisciplinary artist Laura Anderson Barbata, which made an appearance at the Museo Textil de Oaxaca in 2018. The traveling exhibit includes interpretations of stilt walkers’ costumes found around the globe, from the moko jumbies of Trinidad and Tobago to the Zancudos de Zaachila in Oaxaca.

In fact, while walking through Oaxaca Centro a couple days earlier, Wally and I happened upon a parade with these performers. We marveled at how they danced around, tied onto wooden stilts. They’re known as Zancudos, which comes from zanco, meaning “stilt” but also evokes “mosquito” — a reference to the insects’ long legs. The male performers, some dressed in masculine garb, some wearing dresses, are impressive to watch.

Part of the fun of a folk art tour is seeing the handicrafts at various stages of production.

At Martín’s shop, it was difficult to decide between the pieces. But ultimately, we decided upon a bull dressed as a tiliche in colorful scraps of cloth. This character makes an annual appearance at Guelaguetza, a celebration of indigenous culture held in Oaxaca de Juárez, along with an alligator in fanciful Tehuana dress wearing a lemon yellow huipil tunic paired with a long bougainvillea pink skirt.

If for some reason you don’t want to make a trip to Martín’s studio (and want to pay a lot more for his work), we found a couple of his pieces in town along Avenida de la Independencia at Andares. But not only is it cool to meet these artisans and see their workshops, you’ll find the prices much cheaper than those at the stores.

The sign at Martín’s home and workshop shows his playful style, often with animals on bikes or in mototaxis.

Martín Melchor Ángeles
Andrés Portillo #2
San Martín Tilcajete
Oaxaca
México

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Wally and I wished that we had allotted extra time in Oaxaca to coordinate a second day trip with Linda. Her involvement with and passion for the region’s indigenous artisans deepened our understanding and appreciation of the process. Having her as both driver and guide took the stress of transportation out of the equation. Plus, her familiarity with and ability to contact the creators prior to us visiting their workshops ensured that they had pieces for us to see and purchase.

If you’re interested in Mexican folk art, Linda can introduce you to local artesanos and take you to see their workshops. Send her an email at folkartfantasy@gmail.com. —Duke

A Tour of the Oaxaca Botanical Garden

El Jardín Etnobotánico de Oaxaca began as a monastery, then was taken over by the military. Now it’s a fascinating and gorgeous reflection of the diversity of plant life found in Oaxaca.

The Oaxaca Botanical Garden offers one tour in English a day — so be sure to get there early to make sure you get a spot!

I’m obsessed with Carol. She was our guide at the Jardín Etnobotánico de Oaxaca. She makes even the most mundane things seem fascinating. Mind you, she’s strict — you’ve gotta follow the rules or risk a scolding — but she also has a great sense of humor.

Our tour guide, Carol, was a wealth of knowledge — and humor.

I’ve transcribed Carol’s tour. Reading her words should give you a good feel for her extensive knowledge (and sense of humor). Hopefully it’ll transport you to the garden — the next best thing to taking an actual tour:

Looking around, I’m guessing most or all of you are visitors. I certainly know that the country’s cultural richness is usually a major reason for people to visit. But you may be less aware of Mexico’s botanical richness. Mexico, in fact, has some of the richest flora in the whole world. 

Mexico is also renowned for the great number of plant types to grow uniquely here. Botanists call these endemic — plants that grow only in a limited area. And Oaxaca state has more species of plants, and more endemic species of plants, than in any other part of the country. In fact, all the different kinds of vegetation that grow throughout Mexico can be found right here.

The Oaxaca Botanical Garden has only been open since 1994 and covers an area of about six acres.

But very clearly interconnected with this rich flora, Oaxaca state is also known for ethnic diversity. The state has more indigenous groups than any other part of Mexico. Given the size, the state of Oaxaca is more linguistically diverse than any other part of the Americas, and one of the most linguistically diverse in the world. 

Each of the peoples here had their own names, uses, beliefs and traditions about the plants. 

The back of Santo Domingo de Guzmán church, which once owned the land upon which the botanical garden now sits.

Dominican Monastery to Military Grounds: the Complicated History of the Jardín Etnobotánico de Oaxaca

The garden was founded in 1994. Because of the dual emphasis on the relationship of the people and plants, the formal name is the Ethnibotanical Garden. 

The garden covers an area of  just over two hectares, or approximately six acres. 

This was originally part of the Dominican monastery, and the Dominican friars began building Santo Domingo in the 1570s. They moved into the monastery in 1608 and remained there till the 1860s. 

The Dominicans used the space firstly as a construction zone, which is where they prepared all the materials to build and later maintain Santo Domingo. We know they used it subsequently for washing and bathing. There’s evidence they pastured some animals out here. We know they did pottery and metalwork in this space. We have no evidence of any food crops in the space which today serves as the garden. 

The botanical garden was once where monks bathed, and later, where cavalry soldiers performed drills.

The Dominicans were expelled in the early 1860s — at a time when, nationwide, all church properties were expropriated and nationalized. The federal government took over the whole complex and handed the entire thing to the military, and Santo Domingo served as a cavalry base until 1993.

The military used this space to exercise forces, to hold military practices, to park military vehicles. They had sports fields out here and so on. They destroyed the Dominicans structures out in the field area that were tall — anything that stuck up got lopped off.

But a number of low structures built by the Dominicans, covered over and buried during that military period, have survived till today.

The military use, however, destroyed all the vegetation from the Dominican period. We don’t have one single plant here that has survived from then.

No longer a part of Santo Domingo church, the botanical garden showcases plants from the state of Oaxaca.

The Opening of the Oaxaca Botanical Garden

The military left, as I said in 1993, and the garden was formally organized in 1994. They started to reconstruct the buildings, so from ’94 to ’98, nothing much happened vis-à-vis the garden. 

It was finally in 1998 that they began to prepare the soil, to plan out the garden and to begin planting, and the garden opened to the public in late 1999.

So it’s a very young garden, with lots of plants here that couldn’t possibly have grown here in this time period. Anything very tall, big, old has been transplanted.

A cistern under the wedding venue holds over 1 million liters of rainwater, which is used to irrigate the massive garden.

When the garden was founded, the goal was not just to make an attractive botanical garden — though they certainly wanted to do that — but to make it a Oaxacan garden.

And they have done that in several ways. One, of course, is with the collection of plants. All the plants come only from Oaxaca state. So many of these plants may grow elsewhere as well, but they are collected only from the Oaxacan community. 

Another way was in the design of the garden. The garden was designed not by landscape architects but local artists, who took as their theme a pre-Hispanic design element that’s very typical of Oaxaca. And you’ll see it most clearly at the archeological site of Mitla. Those zigzags — some are mosaic, some are actually carved in stone, but they’re zigzag designs that are referred to as grecas.

Note the zigzagging pathway — it’s a recurring motif at the botanical garden.

And that’s the thing that you see throughout the garden. Notice the beds aren’t square or rectangle. Nothing is curved. As you go through the garden, with the water channels and pathways, everything zigzags.

All of the money raised from the lavish weddings at the Oaxaca Botanical Garden go to the state.

The Question of Funding

When the garden was founded, it was a public-private partnership, two public, two private partners. It was wonderful. It lasted until the end of 2005. And at the beginning of 2006, that public-private partnership — called a fideicomiso here — dissolved. And we were, for five seconds, hopeful that we would become entirely an NGO [non-governmental organization].

But, in fact, the state took it over. So since 2006, we have been a state agency. We have no juridical independence; we don’t exist as a legal entity apart from the state. So, unfortunately, folks, you can’t donate money to us. Because everything goes through the state.

So that’s where we are. It’s totally top-down, and all the money from those weddings here goes to the state. The donations? That now goes to the state as well.

Solar power and geothermal cooling make this greenhouse an actual green building.

A Truly Green Greenhouse

As we start up into the garden, we will be passing a number of those Dominicans structures that I mentioned. Those relate us to our past. Down in the corner is the future. We always wanted a real greenhouse and we finally got one in 2007. 

It consists of two rooms: a colder room and a warmer, more humid room to show plants that will not grow well in this climate. 

Greenhouses, by their very name, should be green. But most of them are not — only the plants are green. But this one is truly green. It is totally self-sustaining. All the power to run it comes from solar panels on the roof of the buildings where you enter the garden.

 All the electrical lighting is solar-powered. The heating and the cooling? Also solar power. The cooling is geothermal cooling. And the water is all rainwater to irrigate. In fact, the entire garden is irrigated with rainwater. Santo Domingo has several acres of rooftop. And the rainwater is fed from the rooftops by waterspouts onto the terraces and runs into this giant underground cistern, where they’re putting up that structure for another fancy wedding this weekend. 

Under the floor is the cistern. It was built in 1998 to store over 1 million liters of rainwater. It is the largest rainwater cistern in the entire state of Oaxaca. And then that water can be pumped to wherever it’s needed. There are outlets periodically where you attach a hose. All the irrigation is manual, but it’s all rainwater-fed. 

You can’t go in the greenhouse, alas, but you can admire its design.

The greenhouse was designed by a Mexican architect [Francisco Gonzalez-Pulido] who received an architectural award in 2018 for best sustainable building. The greenhouse is not open to the public — you’ll have to stand outside and look. But it really represents our future, and I hope everyone’s. 

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End your tour with the money shot, as Duke and Wally did. (And consider accepting one of the hats they offer to protect you from the sun.)

Before You Go

Even if you don’t consider yourself overly interested in plants, we recommend touring the Oaxaca Botanical Garden. You can’t wander through on your own, but they give tours in English once a day, at 11 a.m. Monday through Saturday. They only let 25 people join each tour, so play it safe and get there at least 45 minutes beforehand to get on the list. The entrance is at the corner of Reforma and Constitución. Tours cost 100 pesos (a bargain at about $5), and kids 12 and under get in free. Wear sunscreen — some of the time will be spent in the sun. The walk lasts about two hours — but, if you’re lucky enough to get a fantastic guide like Carol, the time will fly by. –Wally

The Oaxaca Botanical Garden should be towards the top of your to-do list when visiting this area.

Jardín Etnobotánico de Oaxaca

Reforma Sur Norte
Ruta Independencia
Centro
68000 Oaxaca de Juárez
Oaxaca
Mexico

 

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What the Heck Is Pulque?

Pulque de maguey is harvested from agave and was the drink of the Aztec gods. Just be sure to go to the source — the phlegmy beverage you get in city pulquerías can be downright foul. 

Pulque is a popular drink in Mexico made from naturally fermented agave sap.

Duke and I had heard of pulque charmingly described by our friends Juls and Hugo as a beverage having the consistency of something in-between saliva and jizz. And, sadly, that was not an exaggeration.

Despite this less-than-glowing recommendation, I still felt like I had to try this mysterious concoction on our first visit to Mexico City. 

“Pulque is charmingly described as having the consistency of something in-between saliva and jizz.

Sadly, that’s not an exaggeration.”

What we didn’t understand at the time is that pulque is so highly fermented that it doesn’t travel well — unless other elements are added to it. So the pulque you get outside of the villages where maguey agave is harvested are what’s called curado, or cured.

“If you tried pulque in Mexico City, it was probably thick, kind of gooey stuff,” said Alvin Starkman, our mezcal tour guide. “If so, it was adulterated — but not necessarily bad.” (We beg to differ.)

Cheers! When you’re in Mexico (like these fellows back in 1910), give pulque a try — especially if you’re in an area where agave grows.

Various items are added — milk, cream, sugar, cornstarch, fruit, even oatmeal — to slow fermentation. Because if you take a container of pulque without releasing air constantly, it’ll literally explode. Alvin bought some pulque to take home, and he had to keep unscrewing the lid of the gallon container, which would overflow from the pressure.

A shop selling pulque curado — which has fruit juice and other ingredients added to it so it doesn’t literally explode.

But curado isn’t genuine pulque. We were lucky enough to try some on our tour of palenques (mezcal distilleries) with Alvin.

Turns out true pulque isn’t phlegmy like its CDMX counterpart. The closest drink I can think of that it resembles is kombucha — slightly sweet, acidic and fizzy. In fact, like kombucha, it’s loaded with probiotics and is a teensy bit alcoholic, able to give you about the same buzz as a light beer.

The sap of the agave is called aguamiel (literally “honey water”), and that really only lasts one day. We were able to try some that had been gathered that very morning.

If you can try some aguamiel, do so! You have to drink it the same day it’s harvested since the drink ferments so fast.

Pulque’s consumption dates to pre-Hispanic times, when it was considered a sacred drink reserved for the gods, priests and emperors. During the colonial era, the Spanish tried to ban the beverage, considering it immoral. In fact, it’s said that it was so popular, on any given day 13% of the population of Mexico would be drunk on pulque. Unable to prohibit its consumption, the Spanish did the next best thing: They taxed the hell out of it.

Pre-Hispanic figurine of a pulque maker, dating from 100 BCE to 300 CE

A tlachiquero using an old-fashioned method for gathering aguamiel.

How Is Pulque Made? 

There are five or so species of agave in Mexico, Alvin says, that mature after roughly 15 to 20 years of growth. Just before the stalk shoots up from the center of the massive plant, someone called a tlachiquero goes into the field and carves a hole in the middle, right where the stalk would sprout. The liquid called aguamiel starts to seep into the hole. 

“The nutrients go from the leaves into that hole in the middle of the plant in the form of a sweet liquid,” Alvin explains. 

The minute aguamiel is taken from the “well,” it interacts with the bacteria in the environment and starts to ferment. Fermented aguamiel is called pulque.

“It’s that simple,” Alvin says. Unlike the complex process to make mezcal, “there’s no baking, there’s no crushing, there’s no distilling. It’s a natural process.”

Maguey plants, the type of agave used to harvest aguamiel, which ferments into pulque

Aguamiel is usually harvested twice a day. Before dawn, the tlachiquero will collect the liquid from each plant and then use a tool called a respador to scrape off a layer in the well. “That will open up the pores and help to induce more seepage,” Alvin tells us. “Because they’re going to come back in 10 or 12 hours and do the same thing,” just before dusk.

Then the tlachiquero will put an agave leaf, piece of wood or stone on top of the hole to prevent insects (or larger critters, like possums) from getting at this sweet nectar of the gods.

The process continues for two to five months. “At qpeak production, after approximately a month,” you’re able to get 3 or 4 liters of honey water twice a day from a plant,” Alvin says.

How much aguamiel does one plant yield? 

“It’s sort of like a bell curve,” Alvin explains. “At the very beginning, you’ll get a couple of ounces, and then the production increases for about a month or month and a half. At peak production, you’re getting 3 or 4 liters, and then it slowly goes down. And after a few months, there’s virtually no honey water coming into the hole and you stop.”

Mayahuel, the Aztec goddess of alcohol and fertility, was said to actually have 400 breasts — each oozing aguamiel.

Tasting the Drink of the Gods

We visited a family who sells pulque for a living. The shop, in the pueblo of Santiago Matatlán, is now run by Reina Cortés Cortés.

When her grandfather was alive, Alvin would go out into the field with him to harvest the aguamiel, and that’s how he learned about pulque production.

Stop by this small shop in Santiago Matatlán if you’re in the Oaxaca area to sample some pulque — and aguamiel, if you’re lucky!

Reina Cortés Cortés at her family’s casa de pulque, standing by a barrel where the beverage is aged.

As pulque ferments, it gets more vinegary, so Cortés adds fruit juice to it.

We tried aguamiel harvested that very morning, and it was bright, light and delicious. Then we tried pulque that had fermented very recently, and again, it was tasty, if a bit more tart and fizzy. 

The longer you let pulque ferment, the more it adopts a vinegary taste. To counteract this, Reina had added some strawberry juice, giving it a pastel pink coloring. And while I have to say my favorite was the fresh aguamiel, the pulque we had danced along our taste buds most delightfully. No wonder it was once the favored tipple of the Aztec gods and emperors.

And I hardly need to mention how it blows away the hawked-loogie variety of pulque you get served outside of the pueblos. –Wally

What Are Alebrijes?

From the fever dream of Pedro Linares to the ultra-popular Oaxacan woodcarvings started by Manuel Jiménez, these fantastical folk art animals are sure to delight.

A winged dog alebrije on the workbench at the family home of Manuel Jiménez, who popularized the small, brightly painted, whimsical woodcarvings known as alebrijes.

I can clearly remember the first time I was introduced to Oaxacan woodcarving. It was the early ’90s and I was working for the Nature Company. We received a shipment of whimsical wooden frogs. I purchased a brightly painted one with an upturned head, saucer-like eyes, a cartoonish grin and exaggerated outstretched limbs more like a cat’s than an amphibians. Little did I know I was on my way to becoming a collector of this art form. 

“Pedro Linares fell ill and had a fever dream where strange zoomorphic creatures materialized in a dark forest chanting the word, “Alebrije… alebrije… alebrije.” ”

When Wally and I decided to venture beyond CDMX and visit Oaxaca, Mexico, I knew it’d be a dream come true for us. We are drawn to cultural destinations with vibrant histories — and this one included colorful carvings of arte popular: animals, devils, mythical beasts and skeletons.

Pro tip: I always pack bubble wrap and tape in our suitcase in anticipation of what we will inevitably buy. 

Three alebrijes from Duke and Wally’s collection

Object Lesson: Woodcarving’s Origins in Mexico 

To get a sense of history, like many things having to do with Mexico, we must look to the Spanish conquistadors who conquered the Aztec Empire. Indigenous craftspeople shifted, in large part, to creating Catholic objects of saints, angels, crosses and ornate altarpieces for colonial churches. Native Mexicans still made masks for ritual dances and festivals, and Dominican friars used them as visual aids to theatrically act out parables from the Bible as a means to sway the natives to convert to Christianity.

A lion mask from a Mexican woodcarver

Fast-forward to the construction of the Pan-American Highway in the 1940s, which enabled tourists to travel to rural pueblos and led to the increased production of art objects as souvenirs. Although Oaxacan woodcarvings, known as alebrijes (pronounced ah-lay-bree-hays), in their current form have been around for less than 50 years, they have become one of the most popular. 

Not all alebrijes are of fantastical beasts — but they do have unexpected colors and patterns.

This art form can be traced back to a single man, Manuel Jiménez, a native of the small village of San Antonio Arrazola. Today the legendary late artist’s compound contains a museum and workshop. His alebrijes are incredible objects that are a cultural jumble of real and imaginary indigenous folklore. It was a natural evolution that other families from Arrazola, as well as those from San Martín Tilcajete and La Unión Tejalapam in particular, applied their ingenuity to create and sell pieces as a source of income.

The first step in creating an alebrije involves a machete like this in the Jiménez family workshop outside of Oaxaca.

Bough Down: How Alebrijes Are Made

These folk art sculptures are considered a young tradition when compared to pre-Hispanic handicrafts such as weaving and pottery. The most popular choice for carving is copal, a softwood that’s easy to work with. Woodcarving involves using non-mechanical tools like machetes, chisels and knives. The exact positioning of the figure is determined by the shape of the piece of wood. Initial cuts are often made with a machete to form a rough idea of what the artist has imagined, while smaller knives and chisels are used to define the final form. 

After the object is carved, it’s sanded smooth and left to dry. Those that are carved from a large solid piece of wood can take months to dry. Details like wings, tails and ears are crafted in separate pieces from the main figure, which make them easier to travel with. 

Most alebrijes are carved of copal wood. These are drying on a roof at the home and studio of our favorite artisan, Martín Melchor.

The process is a family affair. Generally, it is the men who carve and women who paint. Some are embellished with bold, contrasting acrylic paints and ixtle fiber from the leaves of the maguey plant. They are a source of family pride, and most homes have a small area where finished works are displayed. 

It’s believed that alebrijes trace their roots back to the Zapotec tradition of tonas or nahuals, animal spirit guides, which often had human faces, complete with mustaches.

Motifs change, driven by the market’s appetite for novelty and the creativity and imagination of the individual who makes them. Most Oaxacan artisans simply call them figuras, wooden figures. It’s thought that they originally derived from tonas or nahuals, which refer to animal spirit guides from the Zapotec zodiac. But nowadays, these fantastic figures are more often than not referred to as alebrijes. 

A cute (?) devilesque papier-mâché alebrije Duke and Wally bought at a store in Chicago

Alebrijes: What’s in a Name?

The first alebrijes as well as the name itself are attributed to Mexico City-born artist Pedro Linares. In 1936 Linares fell ill and had a fever dream where strange zoomorphic creatures materialized in a dark forest chanting the word, “Alebrije… alebrije… alebrije.” 

Using his skills as a papier-mâché artist, Linares rendered the creatures from memory, mixing multiple animal body parts, such as the body of a snake, a rooster’s beak, bat wings, lizard legs and a fish’s tail. 

Alebrijes began as larger papier-mâché crazy creatures like this one at a mercado in Mexico City.

Jiménez, in turn, was influenced by the highly stylized treatment and colors he saw in the works of Linares — shifting the medium to wood and putting his own mark on the creatures. 

The economic growth created by the popularity of these colorful creatures has given many families the opportunity to have a better life in the poorest state in Mexico. Woodcarving has improved the lives of these villagers as evidenced by paved roads, better schools, streetlights and cell phones — none of which existed 20 years ago. 

Quality and prices vary widely. Choosing an alebrije is truly a matter of personal taste. It can be overwhelming, so go with your gut. And decide between a colorful chucherría, a small, simple folk object, or a larger labor-intensive fine art gallery-worthy piece. 

Many alebrijes now sport multiple intricate patterns.

When you’re in the Oaxaca area and want to visit artisans at their studios, book a tour with the delightful Linda Hanna. And when you see something you like, buy it — because you’ll probably never see anything like it again. Added bonus: The prices at a studio will be much better than at a store or even market. –Duke

3 Most Stunning Spots on Mallorca

Formentor, Sóller, Banyalbufar: The largest of the Balearic Islands in Spain offers these Instagram-worthy places to visit.

Beautiful beaches, harbor towns and hillside villages are all part of the appeal of Mallorca, Spain.

To me, there’s no destination anywhere in Europe that’s more synonymous with sunny summer sojourns than the island of Mallorca (pronounced “My-york-ka,” it’s also spelled as Majorca in English-speaking countries). The largest of Spain’s Balearic Islands, Mallorca is known for its sun-soaked beaches, bustling resorts and endless natural beauty waiting around every corner.

While I can’t say there’s ever a bad time to visit the island, if you’re looking for a more laidback retreat, try to avoid traveling in the summer months, when the resorts and attractions will be at their busiest. Also, many of the island’s most beautiful natural charms can be found away from the hustle and bustle of Palma, the capital city, so why not escape the crowds and admire some of the island’s most stunning spots?

Finding peace and quiet on the island can mean that you find its magic. If it’s a sightseeing venture you’re on, here are three of the most photogenic spots you can find anywhere on the island.

The Cap de Formentor Lighthouse at the northern end of Mallorca is striking — and less visited by tourists.

Cap de Formentor

For those looking for a truly breathtaking experience, Cap de Formentor on Mallorca is a must-see. Due to its remote location in the less-populated northern area of the island, Formentor perhaps doesn’t get the recognition it deserves — but it remains one of the most gorgeous sights anywhere in the Balearics.

This dramatic stretch of coastline is characterized by sheer cliffs, turquoise waters and stunning views headlined by the region’s emblematic lighthouse. Visitors can take in the sights by driving along the scenic roads that wind their way along the coast. There are also several hiking trails that offer up-close views of the rocky landscape. No matter how you choose to experience it, Cap de Formentor is sure to leave a lasting impression.

The port of Sóller on Mallorca

Sóller

Sóller is a town located in the northwest of Mallorca, in the foothills of the Serra de Tramuntana mountain range. Visitors to Sóller can enjoy hiking in the nearby mountains, exploring the town’s charming narrow streets or relaxing on one of the many beaches that line the coast. With its idyllic setting and plentiful activities, Sóller is an ideal destination for a fun-filled vacation.

One thing that makes a trip to Sóller so special is the journey that’s required to get there. Starting from Palma, the most picturesque route involves a train ride through the Mallorcan countryside, where you’ll fly across the viaducts, bridges and tunnels that zigzag across the landscape. The trip includes a stop at a viewpoint along the way, where you can hop off for an unmissable photo opportunity.

The adorable, old-fashioned trams are a fun way to get around Sóller.

If you’re looking for a good place to eat in Sóller, you have plenty of options. There are a number of restaurants that serve up traditional Spanish cuisine, as well as international fare. But my favorite dining experience in the area is to head to one of the local markets, where you can purchase fresh produce, seafood and meat to have a picnic for your day at the beach.

The markets also offer a variety of prepared food, so you can stock up on snacks and drinks for a hike up the nearby mountain.

There are also several cafés and bakeries in Sóller, offering everything from pastries and coffee to light meals and sandwiches.

The rocky beaches of Mallorca’s western coast are much more chill.

Banyalbufar

Framed by the imposing peaks of the Tramuntana mountains, this small town on the western coast is one of Mallorca’s best-kept secrets. There are rocky coves and pebbled beaches in the area that you’ll likely find to be far more tranquil than the busier coastal stretches along the south coast. From here, you can go for a dip in the inviting waters or simply watch the world go by as you soak up some sun.

Banyalbufar is a great base from which to explore other surrounding villages, which many visitors find to be just as charming. Be sure to hop over to Valldemossa or Deià, a mecca for Spanish artists. 

While staying in Banyalbufar, take a day trip to Valldemossa, one of the quaint villages nestled on the hillside.

The best way to access Sóller is via the winding roads that connect it to the rest of the island. I advise renting a car, which will give you access to some of the smaller towns all across Mallorca. The drive is a memorable and scenic one, and from Palma it should take no longer than 45 minutes.

Beautiful beaches, like that at Formentor, are just part of the gorgeous scenery on Mallorca.

Marvelous Mallorca

Beyond the waves and the waterparks, Mallorca is blessed with an extensive catalogue of unforgettable sights. Before traveling, take the time to do some research so you don’t miss any of the stunning spots you want to tick off. The only difficulty is deciding what to go and see first! –Noah Pollard

How to Get Around Oaxaca

Navigating colectivos, taxis, buses and mototaxis — and why you can’t get an Uber in Oaxaca, Mexico.

You’ll have plenty of options to get around Oaxaca — many of which are ridiculously affordable.

If you’re staying in Centro in Oaxaca (and you most likely are), most sites you want to see will be a five-to-15-minute walk away — aside from the day trips to artisan villages, mezcalerías, the archeological sites of Monte Albán and Mitla, and the natural splendor of Hierve el Agua. 

Be warned, though. We relied too heavily on Google Maps as we set out to a destination, and after 10 minutes realized we were literally walking in circles. There’s definitely something funky with GPS in Oaxaca — it doesn’t update or pinpoint locations well enough to rely upon it. 

“There’s definitely something funky with GPS in Oaxaca — it doesn’t update or pinpoint locations well enough to rely upon it. ”

Bring comfortable shoes — you might be walking in circles in Oaxaca’s Centro.

I found the best thing to do is plot out your path before heading out. You can usually get from one spot to another in Centro by traveling down a maximum of three or four streets. 

Even then, smooth navigation is by no means guaranteed. A large part of why it’s so hard to get your bearings in Oaxaca is because the buildings are all built right up to the sidewalk and form a veritable corridor. Walking along them gives you no line of sight to landmarks to orient yourself. I’m sure this was done to keep the streets as cool as possible during the blazing heat — but it does make visitors feel a bit like they’re in a maze. 

The other confusing aspect is that streets will change names after a few blocks. We were looking for Porfirio Díaz, but went well beyond it because we didn’t know that 20 de Noviembre became Porfirio Díaz just one block up. Similarly, 5 de Mayo suddenly turns into Armenta y López. This will happen all the time, so make sure you have the right name for the area you want to go to.

Arriving in Oaxaca

Duke typically likes to arrange transport from the airport through our hotel. You’ll pay more, but it’s reassuring knowing that you have someone waiting there when you arrive, ready to ensure you make it safely to your lodgings. 

In Oaxaca, though, this isn’t necessary. Once you collect your baggage, head into the next room and find the transport kiosk. There’s a set fee for the trip into Centro, and it’s very affordable — ours came to about $10. Try to get to the kiosk as soon as possible, as you’ll be sharing the ride in a colectivo van, and this way you can score the best seats.

Cabs are plentiful and cheap in Oaxaca. Especially if you’re out late, play it safe and hop in a taxi to get home.

Driving Around Oaxaca 

When it came to vehicular transport for day trips and around town, I asked our friend, Kevin, who lives in Oaxaca, how we should get around. The following sections are his response:

The old-fashioned way. A cab! That is correct. Uber was not allowed here, thanks to the powerful local unions. (Though we do have food delivery from Rappi.)

Many tourists will hire a cab for the entire day since getting cabs out of artisan villages and sites like Monte Albán can be rough. 

TIP: When the time comes, you will want to join the Expats Oaxaca Facebook group and you can ask for recommendations to hire a driver for the day.  It’s very inexpensive compared to the U.S. You’ll be flooded with responses.  

A colectivo pulls up in front of our Airbnb.

What’s a Colectivo?

Another way that’s very cheap, and the method I use, are called colectivos. You’re sharing a janky-ass cab with as many people that can fit in it. Two people in the one front seat is common. Three in the back. I’ve had four in the back before, but that’s not common.  

I take them to far-off pueblos (villages) and it costs 20 pesos on average — basically $1 U.S.  

You can’t pick up a colectivo at your hotel or in Centro. You need to walk to el Mercado de Abastos (the Food Market), where they congregate. There are sections to grab these for each pueblo.

The market to get it is a 15-minute walk from Centro. But being White and walking through the market and navigating that will be tricky, as you will not want your phone out and in your hand while Google helps you navigate it. Otherwise it’s very safe. I love that market — best in Oaxaca and less touristy because they want upscale experiences in Mexico and not local slices of real life here.

Getting colectivos was definitely easier for me because I had my boyfriend navigate that shit so many times I can now do it myself. If you speak Spanish, you’ll be fine.

Returning is very simple, as they are constantly running all day to and from Oaxaca. 

We didn’t take any, but buses are an option for getting around.

Buses?

Another option are the buses. But again, don’t expect a bus like it is in the U.S. It’s really janky, loud and quite an Old World experience. I have used them often to travel to pueblos as well.

And Renting a Car?

With insurance, expect to pay about $65-$90 U.S. for a day.

Cute little mototaxis are popular ways to get around the villages outside of the city of Oaxaca.

What About in the Villages?

You will take a tuk-tuk (called mototaxis here). It’s a fantastic way to maneuver through pueblos, reach another pueblo nearby or get a ride out of a pueblo to the main road where you can grab your colectivo, etc. Super cheap.

Usually a colectivo will take you to one spot within the pueblo, and then you walk or take a tuk-tuk if you want. Normally, locals take tuk-tuks because they want to get out of the center of the pueblo to their homes. So where a colectivo drops you is typically the area you want to be in anyway. 

The mototaxis in this part of Mexico reminded us of the tuk-tuks we rode in Southeast Asia.

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When Duke and I cabbed around town, we tended to pay about 50-80 pesos. 

Don’t be surprised if the taxi doesn’t have seatbelts — we found that to be the norm. (In fact, the drivers have them but they dangle there, unused for some reason.)

You’ll find Oaxaca to be a very walkable city. And when you take those days trips — and you really must, as the artisan villages are what make this area so appealing — you have a variety of options. –Wally

An Enchanted Evening at Alfonsina Restaurant in Oaxaca

World-class dishes meet home cooking at chef Jorge León’s destination restaurant in San Juan Bautista la Raya, one of the best dining experiences in Mexico.

The tranquil setting in a pueblo half an hour outside of Oaxaca Centro puts the spotlight on the meal. You can see Elvia, the chef’s mother, in the background, making tortillas.

The taxi had been driving for about half an hour. As we rumbled along a dirt road in a small village outside of Oaxaca de Juárez, Wally and I wondered where the heck we were going.

Located in San Juan Bautista la Raya, Alfonsina is the culinary masterpiece of chef Jorge León. A coworker who had visited Oaxaca last year tipped me off to the restaurant and insisted we go. For those of you reading this who like to skip to the end, Wally and I were not disappointed. To me, the prospect of having a meal in the backyard of a local chef sounded magical — and, indeed, it was. 

“Like a beautifully choreographed dance, guests were served simultaneously.”

There was time before dinner for Wally and Duke to wander the grounds, chat with other guests and have their picture taken.

Our experience began the minute we were dropped off outside, passed through a doorway and entered the yard. We were ushered in and seated at a rustic two-top wooden table. Surrounded by foliage and cool brick walls, it felt more like a secret garden than a restaurant. It’s an inviting outdoor space that encourages you to stay a while, to hang out in the courtyard and take pictures. 

An incense burner in the yard

Nopale cactus, a popular ingredient

León grew up in San Juan Bautista la Raya. He began his career at Casa Oaxaca and honed his skills under chef Enrique Olivera in Mexico City, who hired him to work at the legendary Pujol. Returning home with a clear vision and the money he had saved over the last decade, León created Alfonsina. He purchased a plot of land next to his mother Elvia’s house and built the space from scratch with help from his relatives. 

It’s a family affair in the truest sense. Elvia runs breakfast and lunch, and León’s brothers and cousins assist with service and food preparation. We noticed a couple bussers wearing black T-shirts that had “Familia” printed on them.

A traditional outdoor brick oven used at Alfonsina

The evening we dined at the restaurant, it was filled with a mix of locals and travelers, who made the pilgrimage like us. There were four tables total when we were there, and the prix-fixe service starts at the same time, 7 p.m., with every course coming out simultaneously for the entire restaurant.

While taking photos before our meal, we struck up a conversation with a couple who were also visiting from Chicago and a gay couple from San Francisco. They were all dining with their family at a nearby table. 

A small patio by the men’s room. The location is part of the home where chef Jorge León grew up.

A Meal Worth Traveling For

Alfonsina is León’s tribute to traditional Oaxacan cuisine. Our inventive meal consisted of five courses and featured seasonal local produce. Although the menu is predominantly plant-based, ours included seafood. 

Our server asked what we would like to drink other than water and suggested an artisanal IPA made in Oaxaca by a women’s collective. I never thought I’d find myself saying yes to — and actually enjoying — an IPA, as the ones I’ve tried in the U.S. are aggressively hops-forward and bitter. However, the ones I’ve had in Mexico City and Oaxaca taste more like a lager. 

The prix-fixe meal started off with a delicious salad and shrimp dish.

First Course

To start, we were served camarones al chepil, a salad of quintonil (leaves of the amaranth plant) and cuatomate (small tomatoes), with a dressing made with capulin (a seasonal fruit about the size of a cherry with a mellow sweetness). Chepil, also known as chipilín, is an edible leaf with a subtle flavor somewhere between spinach and watercress. The smooth texture of the dressing alongside the gently poached shrimp melded beautifully with the acidity of the tiny tomatoes. 

In between courses, we were served small clay cups of pulque. The pre-Hispanic fermented beverage is made from aguamiel, the sap of the agave, the same plant that’s used to make tequila and mezcal. It has a tang not unlike kombucha. We also were offered shots of mezcal espadín, which was earthy, vegetal and not overly smoky. 

Second Course

Next up: tacos de pulpo, or octopus tacos, in a sweet and sour chipotle marinade with avocado criollo (a variety whose skin you can eat) and purslane (an herbaceous edible succulent). The Creole corn used for their tortillas is sourced from the village, milled onsite and cooked on a comal, a large flat circular griddle made from clay. I found myself savoring the surprise of how its flavor evolved atop slightly smoky seared octopus. 

Below the squash blossoms and crispy tortilla was chileate, a parsley soup.

Third Course 

Chileate, a thickened parsley soup, came next. It was a simple but hearty soup made of parsley, roasted tamala squash and mahi-mahi, topped with squash blossoms. It came served with a crisp tortilla that was fun to break and dip into the velvety broth. 

Fourth Course

The main course was perfectly prepared mahi-mahi served atop an ochre-colored mole made with hoja santa (leaves that are popular in the region), estrella de nopal (an edible cactus) and green beans. I was sold from the first bite, which yielded moist, lightly flaky mahi-mahi. 

A bright, palette-cleansing dessert: nieve de garrafa de coco

Dessert

The meal ended with nieve de garrafa de coco, accompanied by a steaming mug of café de olla (a traditional cinnamon-flavored coffee). Nieve, a water-based frozen dessert, is a kind of sorbet native to Mexico. Its texture is lighter than traditional ice cream and has a creamy consistency, even though there’s no dairy in it. This nieve was studded with shaved coconut and sections of charred sweet pineapple, topped with walnut pieces. 

The idyllic setting at Alfonsina in the quiet pueblo of San Juan Bautista la Raya made Wally smile.

The setting sun lights up Duke’s face (or was it the experience of dining at Alfonsina?).

A Special Evening

One of the best parts of our experience was the staff. Like a beautifully choreographed dance, guests were served simultaneously. No one was left waiting to eat. The servers were eager to explain each dish in detail, and at the end of the meal, one of them came around with a plate loaded with the ingredients used in the meal, pointing out each and informing us what course it was included in. It was a charming tradition, and one we wish more restaurants would take up.

After dinner, our server brought out a plate of the local, seasonal ingredients used in the evening’s meal, explaining what each was.

Alfonsina reveals the magic that prevails when tradition is honored amidst experimentation; León has created a culinary environment that reflects both his skill and experience in leading global restaurants as well as his mother’s home cooking that has served the local community for many years before the restaurant was formally established.

Cacti, flowers and other plants in the yard at the restaurant

It was an unforgettable evening that felt like an intimate gathering of friends coming together to enjoy a world-class meal. Each dish brought a wonderful surprise and we were happy to have dined here. This hidden gem is not about one individual thing — it’s the entire experience, centered on the food that reflects the ever-changing nature of the best seasonal ingredients and the chef who cooks from his heart. –Duke

To book a reservation at Alfonsina, click here. 

The space is simple, relaxing — like eating in a friend’s yard.

Alfonsina

Calle García Vigil 183
San Juan Bautista la Raya
Oaxaca
México

 

Traditional Temazcal Ceremony and Massage in Oaxaca

The herb-infused indigenous steam ritual at Temazcal Oaxaca opens your mind as well as your pores. Plus, you won’t believe how they cleanse you of negative energy.

Duke takes a seat in front of the temazcal, a sort of steam lodge that has been used by the Aztecs, Mixtecs and other indigenous people of Mexico.

I’ve always dreamed of embarking upon a spirit quest. Throw in a massage afterward, and it’s a no-brainer. I’m in. 

When I first read about temazcales in Viva Oaxaca: An Insider’s Guide to Oaxaca’s Charms by Robert Adler and Jo Ann Wexler, I knew Duke and I had to experience one. 

When researching which temazcal to try out, Duke was drawn to Temazcal Oaxaca, thanks to its Insta page. 

“She walked behind me and began to lightly beat me with a bundle of herbs. 

The temazcalera does this to cleanse you of negativity. This transfers the bad energy to the herbs, which are then burned. ”

Wally is ready to embark upon his temazcal spirit quest — part of an ancient tradition of the indigenous peoples of Mexico.

We had just wrapped up a folk art tour with the wonderful Linda Hanna, and when the time came, we found a car waiting outside our hotel, Casa Antonieta, ready to drive us to the village of Santa María Coyotepec for our temazcal experience. The driver turned out to be Nathan Dawson, the young man who designed, built and runs Temazcal Oaxaca with his girlfriend, Orosei Acevedo. 

The courtyard at Temazcal Oaxaca with the cold plunge tub off to the right

What Is a Temazcal?

The name translates to “house of hot rocks.” These brick structures — imagine a Native American sweat lodge shaped like an igloo — are a tradition used for various purposes by many of the ancient indigenous peoples of Mexico. Sure, Nathan told us, they were part of spiritual rituals, but the Aztecs used them to prepare soldiers for battle, the Mixtecs of the mountains used them to induce labor, and more recently, they’re used for general bathing — villagers can save on precious water and emerge smelling like fresh herbs. 

Traditionally, a woman known as a temazcalera will guide you through the process. This role is sometimes referred to as a shaman or curandera (folk healer). Every pueblo has a midwife, and she’s who acts as temazcalera, Nathan informed us. 

The peaceful area where you relax before and after your temazcal experience

Temazcal Oaxaca: “By Far the Best”

When we arrived, an expat couple from St. Louis had just finished their experience. They moved to Oaxaca a few years ago, and like every American we’ve met living here, they have no plans of going back to the States. 

The man encouraged us to take a shot of mezcal to loosen us up for the temazcal, so I squeezed orange slices into our thimble-sized goblets and we threw them back. It’s also recommended you drink a couple of glasses of water to hydrate before the steam bath. 

As we sat at the table, a spray of liquid hit my forearm. No one else saw or felt anything. I began to believe I was marked by an invisible spirit animal in preparation for my temazcal. 

When I asked Nathan later what it might have been, he said it was most likely one of the giant cicadas that live in the tree — which certainly wasn’t as glamorous a spirit animal as I was hoping for. 

As the couple left, the man told us, “I’ve been to temazcals all over, and this is by far the best. It’s not touristy; it’s the real deal.”

The temazcal is purposefully shaped like a womb.

Inside the Temazcal: Return to the Womb

We ducked our heads and entered the dark brick structure, sitting upon wooden stools in front of a fire that heats rocks. Our temazcalera, Narcedalia, knelt next to me, taking bundles of herbs, dipping them into a bucket of water and then placing them atop the hot rocks. An aroma filled the space, with many of the herbs working to open the lungs. We took deep breaths and entered a meditative state. My mind journeyed to a troubled relationship I have with a family member, suggesting that I should make the effort to repair it. 

Our lovely temazcalera, Narcedalia, guided us through the ritual.

A glimpse inside the temazcal — before the door shuts and you embark upon a dark, steamy spirit journey

Now and then, Narcedalia rattled off something in Spanish, and we mostly caught the gist. She explained that temazcales are good for the head, the heart, the stomach, her hand moving to each part of the body as she spoke them. 

When sweat poured down our faces, Narcedalia took our washcloths, wet them and refreshingly dabbed our faces. Every once in a while, she sang a quiet song from her home, Atzompa, a nearby pueblo known for its pottery. It was lovely to hear her soft, soothing voice, filling the chamber like a lullaby.  

As I sat there in the dark, imagining I was part of an ancient Mixtec group undergoing a ritual experience, Narcedalia walked behind me and began to lightly beat me with one of the bundles of herbs. The temazcalera does this to cleanse you of negativity. This transfers the bad energy to the herbs, which are then burned. 

As Nathan later explained, modern-day grandmothers carry on this tradition. If something bad happens or a child is scared, the abuela will rub an egg on the person, declaring that the evil is now in the egg, which she will then bury. Alternatively, she might lightly whip you with herbs to get rid of your fear — like they do in a temazcal.

“You’re transferring the negativity to the herb,” Nathan said. “Then you’re symbolically letting go of it, burning it on the rock.”

You’ll get lightly beaten by bundles of herbs to cleanse you of negativity during the temazcal ceremony.

After about 20 minutes or so (it’s impossible to know for sure, as the experience seems to take place out of time), we took Nathan’s advice and moved to sit on the floor to cool off slightly. Then, after another passage of time, the temazcalera placed pillows on the ground, and we laid there, relaxed and refreshed. 

At one point, Narcedalia said something that sounded like she wanted us to open our towels. So, we made our privates public, hoping that’s what she was saying. 

And when she poured water over us in a baño, or bath, I sighed in contentment, and was relieved that we had correctly understood her. She was so gentle, like a mother bathing a baby. And indeed, the shape of the temazcal is round, to mimic a pregnant belly. 

“You’re going into Mother Earth’s womb and back out again,” Nathan told us. 

The massage beds as seen through gauze

Rubbed Down and Relaxed 

Don’t be surprised if your experience is a bit different. Nathan and Orosei are always seeking to enhance the experience, adding a sensory element here, a spa treatment there. (They’ve got plans to have patrons do a natural mud mask after the temazcal, once the pores are good and open.) 

After our temazcal, we skipped the cold plunge and went into the nearby building, where we had changed out of our clothes. Now we got ready for our massages. There are so many nice touches, including a blindfold and aromatic herbs placed by our noses — both of which connected back to the temazcal experience. 

Nathan hired Narcedalia and her two sisters to act as temazcaleras and put them through massage school. I don’t know that I’ve ever been more relaxed after a rub-down. We had turned into puddles of goop. After a cup of tea, Duke and I got up slowly, put our clothes back on and literally oozed outside. 

Wally, blissed out after the temazcal and massage

We sat in the courtyard and chatted with Nathan, who grew up splitting his time between this village and Texas. He walked us around, showing us the various herbs used in the temazcal. It’s a variety that might include: boldo (the most common), basil, rosemary, rue, fennel, aloe vera, vicks plant, hierba maestra and hierba buena. 

Nathan and Orosei grow most of their own herbs to open your lungs, your pores and perhaps even your soul.

Nathan, the owner of Temazcal Oaxaca, showed us the various herbs grown in the courtyard and used in the temazcal.

Vicks plant, on the left, is Mexico’s natural version of Vicks VapoRub.

While his family has operated a temazcal for decades, this site opened in October 2021. Nathan is an astute entrepreneur — he’s got a vision, and the experience he has created is one of a kind. 

We highly recommend adding Temazcal Oaxaca to your itinerary. It’d be best to do so toward the end of your trip — a wonderful way to refresh after days walking in the heat and driving to the charming villages on the outskirts of town. –Wally

Wally and Duke stand on either side of the Mixtec symbol for a heart.

When you’re done, say a prayer of thanks to the god of temazcales.

 

Temazcal Oaxaca

Allende Santa María Coyotepec
71254 Oaxaca
México