Land of the Chapolines, Oaxaca City

San Cristobal

Forgive me for not writing sooner, but I have been suffering from extreme writers block. And by writers block, I mean a tropical illness that resulted in 24 hours of high fever and hallucinations. But I have recovered splendidly and am reporting from Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca.

After spending a few more days with Mimi and Julian it was time to say goodbye to Chiapas and our precious Crystal and begin our journey to Oaxaca. It was an overnight bus, taking about 11 hours. However, every hour the bus would be stopped and boarded by a police officer, who would kindly escort a passenger off the bus, never to be seen again. Horrified as I was, Zoe assured me that since we were not Guatemalan, it was unlikely we were to be deported. Still, I slept with one eye open.

The family we stayed with in Oaxaca City took care of us in all endeavors, from going in the ministry to exploring the market. The English congregation in Oaxaca is around 25 people, and they are rather swamped with territory if you happen to be in the market for a congregation where the need is great…er.

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From the moment we got to Oaxaca, Snack Monster --I mean, Nick, was fixated on trying their famous local treat, chapolines, or as we like to call them, grasshoppers dipped in chile and lime.

Mmmmm...juicy.

They come in all flavors really, big and small, spicy and sweet. The sister above and right is named Benigna, we stayed with her and her family, she is delightful for many reasons, including suprising us with mugs full of blended chocolate.

Our reactions to the chapoline taste test were decidedly mixed.

From alarmed... To revolted...
To purely ecstatic.

Later, we went to see El Arbol de Tule, which is apparently the biggest tree in the world. If photos could capture it, I would show you, but it cannot, so I will not.

We enjoyed some wholesome recreation in the park. Oh, and we gained a Pablo!

And some upbuilding fellowship in service. Paul does not know a lick of Spanish. Or at least, did not until he went out with these brothers.

Below is our adopted child, Vaña, who is not even three but is a genius. After staring at me for quite some time, she asked, ¿Que color es tu piel?

What do you think, I said, what color is my skin? After pondering this, she pointed to the murky beige of the car interior. The color of the car! You are the color of the car! she said.

Next time I have to specify my ethnicity, I will be sure to check Other: Automobile.

With the Spanish congregation in Oaxaca City, a sight to behold with 25 publishers marauding down the street. If it were not for all the other commotion on the street, we might have been a spectacle.

SUPERJUNTOS! Prefered mode of transportation in Chiapas.

Something is rotten in San Cristobal, Tara?
Priceless face. I could not resist. On to Puerto Escondido! Vamanos!