Guelaguetza

Guelaguetza, originally uploaded by kitty424.

I wish I had something good to say about the Guelaguetza. Wait, here's something: it was fascinating to see people really enjoying themselves. It was lovely to see (if not share in) their joy. There.

Now, for how I really feel: Perhaps I should chalk it up to experience, and not go next time the opportunity to attend state-sponsored festivities presents itself, or perhaps I should do a favor to some poor sap of a tourist who will come across this post when making plans to come to Oaxaca and save him/herself $40 and four hours of boredom, sunburn and eardrum damage. The Guelaguetza is celebration of something - a catholicized version of an ancient Zapotec and Mixtec ceremony (1 point for colorful costumes, -1 for no longer sacrificing a virgin who has been fed hallucinogenic mushrooms). The Official Guelaguetza 2k8 took place atop of a hill above Oaxaca City. Leading up to this hill were some arduous stairs made quite entertaining by the vendors lining the sides - makeshift restaurants cooking memelitas, a guy selling fried platanos with condensed milk cooked in a pot of hot oil on a rickety wire mesh set up feet from the throng of passersby, vendors selling necklaces, baby shoes, candies, and a bunch of stuff that neatly fits into the category of "colorful plastic shit". Then the roadway narrowed and the shoving began. The once friendly Oaxaqueños turned quite obnoxious and they elbowed their way forward to the metal detectors. We found our seats and commenced sitting for the next 4 hours to observe a ceremony of repetitive music and poorly choreographed (or perhaps not choreographed at all) dances. The dancers from thirteen (?) different regions of Oaxaca were dressed in distinctive garb of their region - bread baked in a ring on top of sombreros, be-antlered devil masks, feather head dresses two feet tall, fanciful textiles, that kind of stuff - performed dances that each went on for an entire 15-20 minutes each accompanied by tinny, loud repetitive music. The dances consisted mainly of shuffling around and swishing of skirts from side to side. Most of it did not seem to happen in a well-coordinated, choreographed manner. None of the dances had a beginning, a middle, or an end. By the end, I felt like I had seen the same dance 13 times but with different outfits. Following the dances, the dancers would hurl "gifts" of mangos, tortillas, heads of garlic, little bags of rice, sombreros or even clay jars of mezcal into the crowd. This was a welcome distraction to an otherwise mind-numbing experience. At the end, fireworks were set off from behind the stage and right into the crowd. What made these so thrilling is that I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility of an unexploded charge landing on top of my head.

So, dear traveler, if you happened upon this negative post, do what you want with it. My advice is to go to see the procession of the dancers and admire their costumes on Calle Virgil on the Saturday before. Or go to a dinner and a dance show at a restaurant in town. Maybe even walk up the stairs to the stadium for the view and to check out the vendors - preferably sometime in between the morning and the evening shows. But watch out for the hot oil, don't wear flip flops and don't stay for the dancing.