I recently wrote about my time in Oaxaca de Juarez, commonly referred to just as Oaxaca (the city), but while I was there, I also went on a few weekend and day trips to other parts of Oaxaca (the state). Speaking of the state, I was rather tickled to find out that its official full name is the Estado Libre y Soberano de Oaxaca – The Free and Sovereign State of Oaxaca. Isn’t that an impressive title?
Oaxaca has one of the highest proportions of Indigenous people in the whole of Mexico – it blew my mind that some of those groups have been living there uninterrupted for over 4000 years. In a lot of instances, they’re the ones who still take care of the land and maintain Oaxaca’s natural wonders. Sadly, Oaxaca is also one of the poorest states in Mexico, and government money often finds its way into the pockets of state officials rather than to various projects.
Regardless, it is beautiful. It’s got mountains and forests and beaches as well as deserts full of strange and wonderful cacti. These were some of my favourite places, and what I learned about the people there.
The Pueblos Mancomunados
In the mountains of the Sierra Norte de Oaxaca are 8 indigenous villages working together: the Pueblos Mancomunados, a term that means that they’re self governing. Rather than answering to the Mexican government, the villages have their own leaders and their own laws, and operate under a very community based system. The villagers vote on everything rather than having elected representatives make all the decisions, and every few years, each villager has to spend a year doing community service.
Amy and I had booked a day hike here – El Cañon del Coyote, which cost 445p ($35AUD or $24USD) for breakfast, lunch, a guided hike, bottles of water, and some chocolate. Getting there was easy – the bus literally dropped us off in front of the guide’s office, and one of the villagers walked us over to a comedor for breakfast.
Instead of picking from a menu, we got taken into the kitchen to peek into all the saucepans that were bubbling happily away on the fire, and just told them which ones took our fancy. Everything smelled so good – there was a mushroom stew, huevos mexicanas, and all these other dishes whose names I didn’t know but that looked amazing. I picked about 7 different things to include on my plate. This is my favourite way to eat – choosing dishes by smell and look, and then getting to eat a little bit of lots of different things.
When we eventually finished our lazy breakfast and meandered back to the office, we were introduced to the local guide who was going to accompany us on our hike. I’m sorry to admit that I do not remember his name, but he regaled us with stories about the community and his life, and stopped by lots of different plants and herbs to tell us about how they were used. I was particularly impressed when he mentioned that they used to have mines, but that they decided to close them down – in fact, the community had voted to close down anything that was harming the environment, and focused entirely on taking care of the land and investing in ecotourism.
The hike was beautiful too. We got to some vantage points where we could see miles in every direction, and being there felt so peaceful. There were pines dripping with lichen that was so beautiful it almost looked fake. There were tiny little cacti that were so well camouflaged in the rock that it was almost impossible to see them, but that would sting badly if you touched them – which happened to some other hikers we crossed. There were giant agave plants called centenarians that had been alive for over 100 years, a trout farm, lots of large cows roaming wild and a bunch of very cute sheep (unfortunately tied up).
Lunch was a similar affair to breakfast and likewise satisfying – this time my favourite dish was lamb albondigas – and afterwards we shelled out an extra 200p to take the tirolesa, a one kilometre zipline that went from one end of Cuajimoloyas to the other. Unfortunately we planned to go back to Oaxaca de Juarez that evening instead of staying the night, which was a mistake. We had to wait for an hour and a half in the cold and wind to get transport back. If anyone reading this goes to the pueblos mancomunados, do yourself a favor and stay the night – there’s a lot more collectivos and buses earlier in the day.
San Jose del Pacifico
San Jose del Pacifico is another tiny little town nestled in the mountains, and we stayed in an AirBnB room that was literally right at the top of them. My phone couldn’t even slightly capture the glorious vista in front of us, but I did take some very poor quality photos that I guess will have to do.
While there we decided to do a Temazcal. A Temazcal is a pre-Hispanic ritual meant to purify and heal your body and mind. The actual structure is round, like a uterus (or so we were told), and when you go in it’s all dark so there’s a bit of sensory deprivation going on. They heat up volcanic stones and put them inside with you, and pour over litres and litres of water that’s had aromatic herbs steeping in it, so the steam is all fragrant and rich. They also pass around honey for you to slather over yourself – which would sound a bit icky, but because there’s so much steam it doesn’t feel sticky or thick at all. There’s a bit of ritual chanting as well, in which you thank each of the elements.
It was hard. I don’t like saunas, I don’t like being hot, and I’m a bit claustrophobic. I had to keep forcing myself to take slow, deep breaths, and telling myself that I could keep going, I could, I could. One of the other women doing it with us was Mexican, and she led us in singing lots of different chants in between the ones that the temazcaleros led. I think I would have given up if it wasn’t for her – singing those chants together and clapping along gave my mind something to focus on whenever I felt like I was about to lose myself to panic.
When we finally emerged from the room, back into the real world, we were doused with cold water and, once wrapped snugly in our towels, handed a steaming cup of lemongrass tea. It was a very intense and pretty cool experience. I’m so glad I did, and so proud of myself for managing to hang in there – but there’s no way I’m ever doing that again.
Another little tip of other travellers – there are no ATMs in the whole of San Jose del Pacifico, so pack lots of cash. We ran out – my fault because I thought I’d packed a few 500p notes, but had instead packed 100p notes. La Cumbre Hostel is the only place that accepts card, and they charge through the nose for it, but we had no choice but to pay them (or drive an hour to the nearest ATM).
El Arbol del Tule
El Arbol del Tule is this ginormous tree that’s been around for between 1200 to 3000 years (it’s exact age is unknown). It also has the thickest tree trunk in the world, with a circumference of 42m.
Funnily enough, our guide told us, the town of Tule is named for the Tule plant, which is rather small and is a completely different species from El Arbol del Tule, which is a Montezuma cypress. But because the tree is referred to by the name of the town, the tree often gets called the Tule Tree.
The trunk is so corded and twisted that you can see all kinds of shapes in it. I thought that this photo, below, looked like a lion’s head and mane.
It was very humbling to stand in the shade of the tree and think that, wow, this tree has provided shade to people and animals literally for millennia. I hope it outlives all of us and survives for many centuries more.
Hierve El Agua
Hierve El Agua is one of only two petrified waterfalls in the world. The water coming out of the springs is rich in calcium carbonate, magnesium, and a little bit of sulphur, so that when the water flows down the sides of the falls, the mineral deposits harden into what’s essentially the same thing as stalagmites and stalactites, but in the shape of a waterfall. Isn’t that cool?
Unlike a lot of other natural wonders, Hierve el Agua and the area around it isn’t over developed. There’s a bunch of little tienditas and people hawking their wares next to the carpark, but there’s a bit of a walk from there down to the falls. The falls, when you get there, are basically like a natural infinity pool, because you can soak in these pools of mineral rich water right at the edge of the falls, and look out over all these mountains in front of you without seeing anything man made.
I went on a Monday and it was fairly quiet – I have heard that if I’d gone earlier I could have had it all to myself, but also that if I’d gone on a weekend, it’d be swarming with tourists. I guess I picked a decently good time.
Hierve el Agua is on Indigenous land and maintained by an Indigenous community, but there’s a lot of contention over who it belongs to. The Government apparently gave it to San Lorenzo Albarradas as part of an agrarian extension of land back in 1936, but it’s their neighbours, San Isidro Roaguía, who’ve built and maintained the bathrooms and who do conservation work there.
A lot of tourists complain because they might get charged two different entrance fees from the two different communities, but they’re middling – 25p (a little over $1) at the park entrance, and 10p (a little over 50c) as a toll on the road. Both communities don’t get government assistance and suffer from extreme poverty – so I think as visitors to their land, the least we can contribute is $1.50 to be able to experience this natural wonder.
Noche de Rabanos
Noche de Rabanos is actually in Oaxaca de Juarez, but I felt like it fit here because it draws contestants from lots of neighbouring cities as well.
The literal translation is ‘Night of Radishes’, so called because it is literally a giant radish carving competition. It’s this huge Christmas event that occurs annually on the 23rd of December and has been going strong since 1897 – that’s 122 years!
The radishes are carved into these super elaborate scenes and statues in a bunch of different categories. But because everything’s made out of vegetables, they only last for a few hours. Contestants peel/cut/grate/assemble their radishy creations on the morning of the 23rd, and they’re dismantled and disposed of that same evening.
The lines in the evening, when most people visit, take 4-5 hours. But because I went to see it (along with a new friend, Chris) right at its starting time of 2pm in the afternoon, we got to enjoy the whole thing without too many crowds and with no waiting in line at all.
The Way of the Potato 
