The Christmas House From Hades

There is a lot of noise pollution in Oaxaca. Salespeople frequent our street selling various foods, wares and services. All of them have their particular call. We’ve gotten used to most. Ignacio our water guy brings us water bottles on his tricycle or triciculo(a large three-wheeled bike with a platform for carrying water in his case). He calls agua when he nears the house. Other water guys yell agua too, but their calls are not precisely the same in tone and pitch as Ignacio's. After a couple of months, I can distinguish his call from the other salesmen.


I’ve already written about the trash guys and their cow bell. We hear the bell first, around 5:45 in the morning, as it rounds the corner behind our house. This warns one of us that it’s time to get up and get ready for the truck. Ten minutes later, the bell tolls in the front of the house and we throw our bags of trash in with our other neighbors. Jason gets up Mon, Wed and Fri…I wake to the bell on Sun, Tue and Thu…we sleep in on Saturdays. That’s the cow bell. Our alarm clock.


The company that replaces gas canisters plays a recorded jingle…They announce themselves over a loud mic as the truck passes, Gas de Oaxaca, kilos exactos…Interesting how they advertise. The company wants you to know right off hand that they will not rip you off! They give you a tank with the exact number of kilos promised. We’ve gotten a few good laughs out of the Gas de Oaxaca diddy…you can imagine how we have used the material for jokes. These trucks are all over the place and mostly we’ve learned to tune them out, though recently, when Jason hiked to the top of one of Oaxaca’s surrounding hills, he looked over the city, nature surrounding him and he realized…he could still hear the Gas de Oaxaca truck, echoing up from the valley.


Not as frequent, but also loud and distinct is the tamales lady, the donut guy (he comes around 11 PM every night, his call is seductive…donuts, he says, you need donuts) and neighborhood religious processions, usually Catholic. Last week, our neighbor across the street hosted a statue of Mary at her house. This is a particularly popular relic…Mary wearing a sort of golden Christmas-tree like dress. The host family set up chairs and microphones and speakers. For about four hours, they blasted into the neighborhood religious music (from CDs) and the live mass associated with this representation of Mary that was being displayed in my neighbor’s yard. I think it was an attempt at evangelization. I may be going out on a limb with this statement, but I don’t think it would go over well in a typical US neighborhood.


So, why so much noise? Houses in Oaxaca are concrete construction and stucco. The streets are concrete. In our neighborhood, the houses are built right to the street’s edge. There are no front yards. Sounds reverberate, they echo, they travel, whether intentional or accidental, right through the window of la casa (which is always open in this climate) and into the occupant’s ears. Using proclamation to sell goods is smart, and aside from the donut guy and the trash bell, all this noise pollution takes place during the day.


That is, until our backyard neighbor (he lives on the same street behind our house where Ana Marie’s taqueria resides) decided to add music to his Christmas light display. About three nights ago, the lights went up on a variety of houses, some very elaborate. One particular household set up speakers in their yard and began blasting Christmas music at about 9 PM. It played all night. I thought that was a fluke, that someone had forgotten to turn off the music (and lights…they also blink all night…see photo), but I believe now that this celebrative act will take place from now until Navidad. I’m not sure how I will maintain my sanity.


This music is possibly the worst Christmas compilation I’ve ever heard. No lullaby-like Silent Night…the stuff is plinky and punchy, with a strong polka beat, electric keyboard fare. Each song lasts about 45 seconds and leads right into the next. It takes the entire program about ½ hour to cycle through. Do the math! I have done the calculation, late at night while staring up at the ceiling. I potentially listen to the same songs about 12-14 times every night….more math, if the music plays every night until the 24th, this will equal 400 torturous rounds.


While awake, in addition to doing math problems, I have plotted crazy things, like how to avenge my loss of sleep. I don’t know about you, but I get a little crazy in situations like this, so don’t be alarmed by these terrible midnight fantasies. One idea I had…disperse sugar around the house to attract colonies of ants into their yard. Or how about donning a black cape, sneaking over to cut the wires of the evil speakers. Other cheery options, hiding rotten eggs in the yard, stabbing a threatening note to the door with a bowie knife…I suppose I could walk over and ask them to please turn their music off by midnight, but what if the person at the door tilts his head, laughs and says, “You silly gringa, this is our country. We don’t live by your rules. We do what we want”? which is true. One of the charms of this place…less rigidity, fewer rules…Ah the dilemma.


In the end, this issue may break me. I have tried to adjust to all things Mexican, finding tranquility in learning and accepting differences. Last night, after lying awake in my room for about 2 hours, I slept the final hour of the morning in the front of the house on our sofa, until the cow bell roused me from my groggy state.


I have gotten used to most of the night noises around our house, cars and motorcycles without mufflers racing down the street, cracking concussions from fireworks, usually happening around holidays, and all manner of dog activities that reach our ears in the wee hours (except for one yappy dog who seems to be left outside only once a month…I can never sleep on those nights). I confess, I’m a bit of an insomniac (aren’t all writers?) in some seasons more than others and maybe, this will be one of those seasons.