We spent nine days in Oaxaca. Nine days filled with bus rides, van rides, back-of-pick-up-truck rides, and motorcycle-taxi rides.
Each day, they took us to a different place.
Our adventure began in Zuzul. There, at the edge of the river, the mountain water collects into an "ojo de aqua" -- a sort of natural pool. As we swam, a gentle current drew us under the moss covered bridge, past the children splashing and the ladies scrubbing shirts against flat rocks, into the shade of the arched trees, and back towards the river. So we would walk back through the clear water, over smooth rocks, towards the boys jumping off the high dive, and once again meet with the dear, old woman who kindly explained to me why it is so unfortunate that I have such pale skin. Looking down at my bare legs already covered in bug bites on all sides (and their numbers growing every minute), I agreed.
Before leaving, we quietly sat in a patch of sun with a cup of elotes and just listened. Listened to the sounds of birds and insects, the water lapping against the steps descending into the pool, and the rustling branches overhead. We breathed deeply. Breathed the fresh, crisp air that seems so foreign to city dwellers like us, relishing its distinct, humid and earthy aroma. We relaxed. Relaxed in knowing we had nowhere to rush to and nothing pressing to do. We had just to be.
Our first day. Our first welcome to the state.
A quiet and peaceful place that was so hard to leave, but more, made me anxious to leave so that we might see what other gems Oaxaca was harboring.
(Come back later & I'll take you to the waterfalls at Bethania.)
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