Learning the language and the culture in Oaxaca, Mexico

by Rita Bocher; Wynnewood, PA

I wanted to brush up on my Spanish but didn’t want to attend the evening classes at the local high school, so I decided to take Spanish lessons in Mexico while living with a family there that didn’t speak English. My sister, Mary, and brother-in-law, Frank, would be staying in Mexico for three weeks, and I would join them for the last nine days.

Oaxaca

We chose an outfit called Spanish Abroad (Phoenix, AZ; 888/722-7623), which my brother-in-law found on the Internet, to make our arrangements. In business since 1996, the company offers Spanish-immersion programs in Spain, Mexico and a number of countries in Central and South America.

Their Spanish-as-a-second-language program is offered in many cities in Mexico. Oaxaca (pronounced wah-HAH-kah) was known to me as a center of wonderful folk arts and crafts, so that is where we all opted to go.

The city, lying in a vast high valley surrounded by magnificent mountains, is situated at an altitude of about 5,110 feet and is one of Mexico’s southernmost capitals. Despite its very southern location, Oaxaca’s high altitude guarantees a balmy, spring-like climate year-round.

Mornings and evenings can be cool, sometimes requiring a light sweater, but for most of the day the weather is ideal for walking around in short sleeves.

The program

Costs for the program vary with the location chosen and depending on whether or not the lessons are private or in a group. I paid $530 for the nine days, which included accommodations with a host family, two meals a day (excluding Sunday), airport transfers and four hours of lessons per day for five days at the Becari Language School. As there were not too many students at the time, we each essentially had private lessons.

Becari offered Internet access; social activities; tours to nearby pueblos and attractions, and a director, Sandra Rivera Bennetts, who could not have been more accommodating. Its great attraction for us, however, was its closeness to the zócalo, the huge, exuberant main plaza situated in front of the cathedral and typical in any Mexican city.

We stayed with a wonderful family that lived 10 minutes’ walk from the school. Our meals were substantial, beautifully presented and delicious.

Breakfast always included at least two kinds of fruit, eggs or pancakes and local breads. Dinner was at 3 in the afternoon on the home’s outdoor patio. At that time, we socialized with our hosts and their extended family, including their married children and grandchildren. After dinner we were on our own until breakfast the next morning.

We made sure not to intrude on the family’s privacy and spent our free time on local sightseeing, visiting the zócalo or shopping.

As we enjoyed a large meal earlier in the day, in the evening we merely grabbed a bite, usually soup or sometimes a pastry and frothy hot chocolate.

A bit of exploring

I had arrived the Saturday before my classes were to begin, so Mary and I spent Saturday visiting nearby pueblos. By chance, our host family lived on a very busy street with lots of taxis, so we had no trouble walking out the front door and catching a cab to the bus terminal. The taxi ride cost 30 pesos ($2.30).

At the bus terminal, we lucked out in finding a colectivo, which is essentially a van whose passengers are all going to the same place. Our cost was 15 pesos each for the 45-minute ride to Ocotlán. The bus would have cost 10 pesos per person, but the colectivo is much faster, as it does not make local stops.

Since it was Saturday, the market in Ocotlán was going full blast when we arrived.

We had traveled to Ocotlán specifically to visit the ceramic workshops of the well-known Aguilar sisters, who make interesting figures that are popular with collectors in the United States. It was a hot day, and we were some distance from the Aguilar studios, so, for a total sum of 10 pesos, we took a 3-wheeled taxi to our destination.

After looking at the studios (but not buying anything this time), we stopped for lunch at the newly built Ocotlán Hotel. We had whole-wheat sandwiches of ham and cheese served with slices of avocado and skinned tomatoes plus tea for a total of 50 pesos for the two of us.

From the stop in front of the hotel, we took the bus (10 pesos each) to San Martín Tilcajete.

Local art

San Martín is known for alebrijes, fantastic figures carved in copal wood and exquisitely decorated. (“Alebrijes” is slang for “a difficult, tangled thing.”) You can stop at nearly any open doorway in town and find people sitting at a table carving or painting.

The studio and shop of Jacobo and María Angeles had been recommended to us. The large Angeles complex combines a working studio and a shop and is, apparently, an extended-family affair. We saw men and boys carving and young girls painting.

Training begins very early, and there were youngsters of all ages. One little 7-year-old was working on a simple collage under the encouraging eye of a cousin.

There is no set pattern for the designs, and each piece is dependent upon the creativity of the carver and the painter. It was breathtaking to see the complexity and beauty of the designs being painted, even by teenagers.

We took the bus back to Oaxaca, returning to our host home in time for our 3 o’clock dinner.

Dinner was delicious — a cheese-chili pepper soup; ham; mashed potatoes; string beans, and salad, with mango ice cream for dessert.

Our Spanish was hardly stellar, but the only family member who spoke any English was one of the daughters, so the conversation was primarily in Spanish. Needless to say, there were lots of hand gestures and a bit of play acting when the right word just wouldn’t come to us.

After dinner that first day, Mary and I walked about 10 minutes to the church of Santo Domingo. The exterior is unprepossessing, but the interior is one of the grandest I have ever seen — gold, gold, gold everywhere. Three-dimensional figures of saints spun across the ceiling, and the altar seemed to be made of intricately worked gold. Unbelievable!

A Sunday outing

Sunday normally would have been a free day, but our hosts took the three of us to the CaSa Art Center at Vista Hermosa, San Agustín, Etla. San Agustín sits at the top of a mountain, and it was surprising to see that the winding, nearly vertical single-lane road of the village was lined with houses and shops.

The CaSa Art Center, a former textile factory, is now used as an exhibition space. While there were no displays at the time of our visit, just walking through the vast, restored open floors out onto the terrace to look across the deep valley was breathtaking.

That evening, Mary, Frank and I wandered to the zócalo. The cultural and geographic center of Oaxaca, it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Bands played in the bandstand — there was a concert at some time every day — marimba players serenaded the diners in the outdoor restaurants; children chased gigantic balloons around the cathedral area; toddlers yanked on pull toys; vendors hawked all manner of jewelry, scarves, clothing, toys, food, candy and beverages, and everywhere there were tourists, families, lovers, teenagers and children.

The learning begins

Monday was my first day of class. My first two hours were spent on grammar and the subjunctive tense, which seems almost alien to many Americans. The second two hours featured conversation with a different teacher.

Some days, during the conversation period, my teacher and I would walk to different points of interest. On the way, we discussed the items being sold by street vendors or open-air shops. My teacher was partial to one stand where the woman had a couple of small ovens in which she made delicious cakes and pastries.

Another day, we walked to the Oaxaca Lending Library (Pino Suarez 519), sometimes called the American Lending Library. Not only does it have books and DVDs in English and Spanish, it offers a meeting place for visitors and residents plus free WiFi, tours and lectures. The place was staffed by volunteers who seemed to be expatriate Americans.

On our way back to the school, we stopped at the Benito Juárez House, now a museum, where the charismatic 19th-century president had lived from 1818 to 1828.

We also visited the Casa de la Cultura (House of Culture), situated in a huge, beautiful former convent. Its government-backed program encourages traditional arts, such as dance, cooking, painting and photography. Classes are small and fill quickly; registration costs about $5, and 3-week classes run about $20.

Looking for gifts one day, we walked to the Casa de las Artesanías, a craft shop. While I didn’t buy anything, I certainly was impressed by the variety and wealth of the handicrafts and folk art.

Behind the shop was an artist’s studio. The fellow did large, Aztec-style pieces which were interesting but not too giftable.

After class on most days, the three of us stopped at Casa Mayordomo (Macedonio Alcalá No. 32) for hot chocolate and yema bread (a light bread made with egg yolks), which we dipped in the chocolate.

Winding down

Dinner at the host home was always interesting. Our host, a distinguished Spanish gentleman in his 80s, often regaled us — in Spanish — with his experiences in the Spanish Civil War of the 1930s. He was conscripted at 18 into Franco’s army, where he served for 10 years. After World War II, he went to Mexico when he was permitted to leave Spain.

The director of our school confirmed our airplane reservations for us. We had access to the telephone and Internet, but, as the three of us had difficulty understanding Spanish over the telephone, we were very appreciative when the director offered to check out everything for us.

Having an 8 a.m. flight meant leaving the house at 5:30 to be at the airport the required two hours before departure. Our hosts were up to wish us well and extended an invitation for the following year. ¡Si Dios quiera! (God willing!)