Chapulines

Little grasshoppers, deep fried in salt and chili powder. A salty, delicious, insect treat. Sold at a mercado near you (if you live in Oaxaca City). Our sweet cleaning lady, Berta, brought them over. They were still hot when I first tried them. Jason ate some, Gabe tried them. Abby got out of it somehow!



They’re quite tasty…not nearly as strange as balut (embryonic duck egg, Filipino delicacy that we slurped in Manila two summers ago). We won’t be making chapulines a part of our regular menu yet, but we understand that a famous restaurant on the Zócalo serves a salad with the little critters sprinkled on top…kind of like six-legged croutons.
Enjoy the photos!

I Confess...

A couple of weeks ago, Jason returned home with a pirated DVD of Live Free or Die Hard. As a writer, I have always imagined myself above the criminal act of buying intellectual property from the pirate community. Alas, I have crossed over. Mind you, I haven’t personally bought any of those DVDs, so technically, I have not broken the law. Jason has done the dirty work, but, I confess, I have watched them and enjoyed them. A pirated DVD costs about 3 dollars in Oaxaca City. The quality of these DVDs has been pretty good, with a few flaws here and there. Nothing you wouldn't expect given the bargain basement price. Oh...and Jason mentioned that on one of the DVDs there was a written "consent" that this DVD was legal in Mexico. That could potentially clear our conscience, but I'm skeptical about the legitimacy of this "waiver".

Pictured above, the current Jensen collection of pirated DVDs. In our defense, we haven’t found any “non-pirated” DVDs for sale in Oaxaca City nor have we found any movie rental stores. I'm interested in hearing what some of you feel about this tricky issue.

And since I’m confessing, I might as well tell you all, that I stepped on my first cockroach the other night. Previously, I made Jason and the kids squash the shiny brown pests, when they showed themselves in the house…or I ignored them. I have chalked this aversion up to some kind of St. Francis sensibility. I cannot hurt one of God’s living creatures. But, that isn’t honest. I kill ants when then threaten our fresh bakery bread. The truth is, I hate the feel of and the sound of the crunch under the sole of my shoe. Sorry cockroaches. Your luck has run out.

Tripod and Her Little Friend

Now...the calendar you’ve been waiting for
Dogs of Oaxaca

In the wild, dogs hang out in packs. They do so in Oaxaca as well. These two are inseparable...we're not sure if they're "married"...if you know what I mean. Tripod is missing a foot. Her scruffy little friend is intact and pretty genial. They hang out at the apartment complex near our grocery store, Gigante, during the day and around dinner time, focus their attentions on the street taquerias that line the sidewalk. They're not starving, so the street taqueria scavanging business must be good.

Roof dogs

Speaking of "Roof." Did you hear the joke about the guy with the talking dog?

He walks into a bar, pulls up a stool and buys a drink. He begins a conversation with the bartender that leads to them talking about their pets. Eventually, the man gets around to confiding in the bartender, "My pet dog is unlike any other. He can talk," he says.

"Yeah right," says the bartender.

"It's true," says the man. "I'll bet you a pitcher of beer my dog can talk, plain English."

"How you going to prove it?" says the bartender.

"My dog is right outside, tied up to that elm near the curb."

"All right," says the bartender. "Bring him in."

Man goes out and brings his dog into the bar. By this time, folks are taking notice and gather around. Man calls his dog to attention. "Fido," he says, "What is the substance that covers a tree trunk?"

The dog says, "Bark."

"Very good," says the owner, as the audience begins to grumble. "Now," he says, "how does my face feel when I haven't shaved for a couple of days?"

"Ruff," says the dog.

The bartender is shaking his head. "Get that dog outta here," he says.

"But wait," says the man. "There's one more question." He zeroes in on his canine with a serious look on his face. "Who is the best homerun hitter of all time?"

"Ruth," says the dog.

The audience boos and the man is forced to pay for an extra pitcher of beer, then thrown out of the bar with his dog. As he gathers up the leash and gets ready to walk down the sidewalk, the dog looks up and says, "You think I made a mistake in not saying Bonds?"

Meet Grim

Dogs, dogs, dogs. They’re everywhere. Before we set out for Oaxaca, an acquaintance who lived here for a month expressed how much she loved this city, but “The one thing,” she said, “I never got used to, was the dogs.”

Photos probably tell the story better than words regarding the dogs of Oaxaca.
Here is a photo of a canine friend the kids call Grim, a reference to a Harry Potter image. We meet him every day on our walk to school. He’s old. He lays in the shade in the afternoon. He’s a little more active in the mornings.

Grim exhibits the behavior of most Oaxacan dogs we’ve met. He roams off leash, somehow, he has managed to avoid getting killed by a vehicle (our theory…hyper and stupid canines get weeded out of the gene pool very quickly) and he ignores passersby. Grim also looks about as cute as most of the beasts around town…that is, he has most, but not all of his fur, he’s a bit dirty and insect-bitten. Though our kids love dogs, they avoid him per our instructions, just as the average Oaxacan does.

A few of you may remember that Gabe was bitten on the chest (at the age of four) by a dog off leash in the Yucatán. The owner of the dog swore that his animal had had rabies shots…then proceeded to tell us that he was about to take the dog into a field and shoot him. He showed us various papers on the beast, who actually looked like a pure bred Weimaraner. After returning home and consulting a doctor, we decided Gabe should have the series of rabies shots. The risk was too great.

Thankfully, Gabe feels little residual antipathy toward Mexican dogs, but that experience has made us cautious.

Jason's addition...Dogs are better off here than in the villages of the Yuc. I don't think I've seen any bald dogs here and few with noticeable diseases.

Santiago

Santiago is the two-year-old brother to Sebastian, one of the best baseball players on the Dragones. His father is a jock and a joker. He speaks so fast, I often have difficulty understanding what he is saying in Spanish, but it must be funny because all the parents laugh after he speaks. His father’s nickname is “Chino”…which means he has Asian features. Those of you who have been to Mexico before know this tendency. Nicknames, such as Chino (china man), gordo (fatty), negro (blackie) and juerito (blondie) flow freely and without the kind of judgment we might attach to those terms.

But back to Santiago. I have to say, this little two-year-old is already quite a baseball punk. He loves to be on the field and wears the uniform you see to every practice and game. Today he was heavy laden with catcher’s gear on. He adores the sport, as do his big brother and father.

At the beginning of our game this past weekend, he gave all of us quite a show. We on the Dragones are used to it, but other team had never seen him perform. His dad pitched a ball to him. Santiago hit the ball with his little wooden bat and proceeded to run around the bases. He is so small and so cute, all eyes fixed on him. He slid into every base...the bases here are simply flat pillows…they aren’t very stationary. So, Santiago slid, got up, adjusted the base (everyone laughed) and kept running. By the time he reached home, the whole crowd of parents and players were riveted and cheering. Santiago, who didn’t realize he had accumulated such an audience rose up from home plate in shock. He burst into tears and ran to his papa who comforted him and carried him off the field.

Life in Mexico celebrates children. You see it in a multitude of ways and feel how it pads all things serious or competitive. Santiago is a delight to his parents and all those who watch his exuberant attitude toward baseball, which at this point in his two-year-old life…is EVERYTHING.

Oaxacan Wedding Processions

Now…here’s a worthy photo topic for a calendar…

We got off our bus on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Our stop was the llano…a square near the centro. We were heading to our favorite taqueria, when the wedding procession met us walking the other way. They were strolling from the church to the reception place. It was a parade of guests in their wedding best as well as a few others who seemed to be part of making a show of the event. It was wonderful and completely different from any wedding I’ve ever attended. I snapped these photos as they passed.