Gringos Without a Car — An ecological decision pays off in cultural literacy
When we first began staying for months at a time in our pueblo, we began querying how to lease or buy a used car…but Oaxaca is already choking on pollution and congestion. It doesn’t need one more car. More importantly, we are gaining insight into the culture via the taxi drivers.
Sí, sí, canela, pero ¿qué tipo de chile? Pasilla? chile de agua? chilhuacle rojo? costeno?
Yes, Yes, cinnamon, but what type of chili?
We are flying down the highway to our mountain village some forty minutes from Oaxaca City. It’s a road with axle-snapping potholes and this is evening commute time where every vehicle is jockeying for position and our taxi driver is on his cell phone. We are responsible because when we told him how much we loved Oaxacan cuisine he began sharing his recipes for traditional dishes, his method of cooking, say turkey in mole coloradito — while darting around an exhaust spewing bus — or puerco con salsa verde — while passing trucks with a load of cement bricks or Sopa de Guias — navigating around another truck stacked high with old mattresses. That last truck swoop was punctuated by a screaming motorcycle cutting in front of us. Our taxista is on the phone because he forgot some of the ingredients in one of the moles so he’s checking in with his madre. Pollo…