Guelaguetza

Oaxaca in July is a city full of energy.  Tourists (mostly Mexican) fill the sidewalks, women wear their traditional festive dresses, and everybody is having a good time navigating around clowns and balloons to the sound of giant aerial firecrackers.  The central event is the Guelaguetza ("Offering" in Zapotec), a pre-Colombian tradition, presented in a modern version.  On the day of the event, tourists ($60 per ticket), and locals (free in the upper sections) crowd into the specially built amphitheater to enjoy a spectacle of music and dance.  Dozens of delegations from the various regions of the state, go on the stage to demonstrate their traditions.  Their distinct multicolored dresses are wonderful, and some of the women are beautiful.  However, at the risk of being expelled from my city, I have to admit that last year, after the fifth-or-so delegation, the static dance steps made me drowsy, and all the groups blended into one.

This year, I found another way to enjoy the Guelaguetza.  I squeezed onto the sidewalk, and watched a parade.  Accompanied by their bands, the delegations pranced down the street, wearing the same vibrant costumes, and stopping every few meters to perform a short dance sequence.  That was a much better fit to my attention span.

Click on Casita Colibri, to watch a slide show of the parade

Customer Service

A branch of an international bank.  Oaxaca, 10:00AM

There was no one in line.  This was unusual.  I happily advanced to the the active window, only to realize that it was empty.  I waited a few minutes until the clerk stepped behind the glass, and wiped her mouth from the remains of  what must have been a delicious snack.  The transaction was concluded with only a few fumbles and mishaps.  My other issue was beyond the capability of this clerk, and required the attention of another.

I headed to the next area to find a long line of people sitting patiently, awaiting their turn.  The clerk moved in deliberate slow motion, unfazed by the stares of the clientele.  As my turn arrived, and I prepared to get up from the couch, she joined her thumb and index finger for the "Un momentito" gesture, and left.  For twenty minutes I was stranded between the couch and her desk.  When she returned she beckoned for me to approach, wiped her mouth, cleaned her teeth with her tongue, then politely offered to help me.  I resisted the urge to ask if she enjoyed the coffee break.  Our interaction was interrupted by two phone calls.  The first was from a restaurant, asking for the lunch order.  This required my clerk to solicit lunch preferences from all her fellow workers.  The second phone call was similar, but pertained to tomorrow's lunch.  When I left the bank it was almost noon.  I felt lucky to have achieved my goals without needing to return another day.


Mexico is rich in culture, but poor in customer service, and customer service is just the tip of a much bigger problem.  Most institutions in Mexico, both in the public and the private sectors, are highly inefficient.  They are bureaucratic, paper-driven, and overstaffed.  Mexico has yet to absorb the productivity lessons of the twentieth century, let alone enter the internet-driven twenty-first.  Until it does, and despite its natural resources, it will lag the more productive nations.  This may be good for retired gringos, looking for low cost of living, but not for it's citizens.   My fear is that if competition is not forcing improvement, who will?  Maybe the young new President has the answer.

Dancing In the Rain

Just dancing in the rain.  What a wonderful feeling, in Mexico again.


Light rain directed the evening strollers to the protection of the porticoes surrounding Tlaxcala's Zocalo. Sounds of live music drew us out of the congestion, towards the center of the plaza, where, a few brave souls, some holding umbrellas, were dancing to the rhythms of the state band.  Without hesitation, we joined in.  When the band paused between numbers, I shouted my suggestion, "Danzon".   We were delighted to hear the opening notes of a favorite Danzon melody.  Ignoring the damp T-shirts and slippery flip-plops, we immersed ourselves in the music and movement..

After three days of travel, and another three days of beach in Mazatlan, it was the sheer joy of the dance, that happily established that we are back in Mexico.