Puerto Escondido Reprised: A Few Final Notes & Images from Oaxaca's "Hidden" Port

La Bandera de Mexico, Santuario de Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe 

The name Puerto Escondido means "Hidden Port" in Spanish. That's magic, as with all things the name and the actuality are fused in mystical fashion..


It's occurred to me that I've spent too much time on this here blog complaining about Mexico and Mexicans.  I need to right that karmic balance, to testify to my true affection and love for this magnificent place.  Let the record herewith stand and reflect the fact that I love this crazy country and its people fiercely, and that the pleasures of being here among them are innumerable.  So many, and so exquisite, in fact, that it is overwhelms to recount them.  


First, let me begin with how much I like the Mexican flag.  A red white and green tricolor in the tradition of the French Revolution (Viva la Republica Mexicana: Secular, Anti- Clerical, Revolutionary..)  it is understated yet fiercely emphatic, much like Mexico itself.


And if you'll notice, there's an eagle eating a snake as the crest in the center.  This, I did not know until recently, is a depiction of the founding myth of the primordial establishment of the Aztec capital in the Valle de Mexico (the ancient Pre-Columbian capital, today's Ciudad Mexico).  The Aztec tribe had been wandering, and had come into the great valley when they saw the eagle eating the snake, as depicted.  This was interpreted by their priests as being an omen that that was their place.  


It strikes me as being much like the Roman foundational myth of Romulus and Remus suckling the she-wolf.. The icon has that same vital atavistic force.. 

That first image of the Mexican flag above - it seems really evocative to me, which is why I use it here, as I begin to praise Mexico - I took in Mexico City.   Note the overcast sky, something I haven't seen in the past month since being in Oaxaca.  Because that the weather here is uniformly beautiful, and utterly constant because the Pacific keeps the temperature and humidity stable, and outside the rainy season it rarely rains. We've had one brief afternoon storm since I've been here, the rest of the time it's been absolutely sunny, warm, perfect. 


Let me show you exactly how perfect:  


I found these neat climate charts online, and they paint a picture of paradise, better than Paul Gauguin I say.  I think they are poetical, they make me glad to study them:

Average Maximum/Minimum Temperature	Rainfall and Humidity

When I arrived in here in Puerto at the beginning of the month, the rainy season had just ended, and the land is verdant until say about February when it all begins to turn brown, becoming sepia until the rains return.  The temperature and humidity remain constant all year long, though:

Average monthly:	Jan	Feb	Mar	Apr	May	Jun	Jul	Aug	Sep	Oct	Nov	Dec
Rainfall(inches):	0.2	0.0	0.0	0.0	1.4	11.1	10.1	9.9	13.8	6.3	1.1	0.3
Temperature(°F):	80	80	79	81	83	84	84	84	83	84	82	81
Humidity(%):	81	79	79	77	77	79	77	78	80	80	81	81

The first few scuba dives I made here (of about twenty all told) they had me wear a wetsuit, until I told them that no self respecting Mainer who was whelped frolicking in the Atlantic (where it never tops 60 F / 15 C in summertime) could wear prophylactic blubber that makes you feel like a overstuffed bratwurst, not when the water is as warm as the air.    


No.  Like hell was I going to use a wetsuit!  Even with the thermocline at 20 or 30 feet, it is still bathwater.  The Mexicans were very impressed.  Bred Yankee tough. We gringos don't play. Nossir.

I just realized I've not posted a map of where Puerto is.  This next chart clears that problem up.  Puerto Escondido is that blue dot on the right of the orange balloon of warmth erupting off the Mexican coast into the Central Pacific, on the chart below. 

Which merely shows that the waters here are some of the warmest in the world:

But enough fun with maps, charts and graphs..

Now for some images I took this afternoon, when I belatedly realized how derelict I've been here with the camera.  Like with my Spanish I have been putting no effort into mastering the new Nikon SLR I bought this summer.  Like with the language I just figure I'll learn by doing it in unstructered informal fashion, without much self induced stress.  

But in my haphazard indolence I've been missing opportunities to document some interesting stuff.. 


I've also been loathe to take images of strangers.  I respect their privacy, and felt awkward and too obvious usually.  Today, I decided to hell with it, I am going to try and take some people pictures anyway.  I decided to try and be as subtle as possible, and start learning the art of understated observation.  Being deftly unobtrusive, while mastering shutter speed.. Shooting quickly and intuitively, trying to catch the fluid moment in poetic stasis, nailing the moment..

The main drag along the beach here. Very chill.

I went to the tourist beach here, this afternoon.  It's a 25 peso (2 buck) and five minute cab ride from here.  Known as Zicatela, it's a (over a kilometer long, I'd wager) beach across the harbor opposite my digs here. In the three weeks I've been in Puerto I'd been there twice.   Unlike the Playa Principal in front of my hotel, it's directly exposed to the open ocean, and the waves that come in are imposing. The swells today averaged about 5', but were to me (a Mainer, born where waves are frigid but understated) still impressive.  

The surf here is famous, and attracts surfers from all over. There are several surfing competitions here a year, and the surfing X Games have been held here. In fact, Zicatela's surf is so monumental it is christened the Mexican Pipeline by the surfing community. May through July the surf breaks sometimes as much as ten times the height it was today. As I say today was awesome enough. It's always unwise to go into the waves there without a board because the currents are dangerous. 

Anyhow, that's just to say that the gringos hang at Zicatela.  I wasn't interested in that scene, so I avoided it.  Too many stereotypical surfer dudes and hippy chicks, all into Marley and ganga.  Not my set, really. 

Still, I feel I should share this video of what the surf is like here in the summer. Saves me bothering to upload my own mediocre, far less impressive clips..  

As you'll see the sea is much more massive than today.  The largest waves today (which were breaking quickly and unevenly, and so weren't very surfable) were between 5 and 10', which is still pretty damn big if you are only used to the waves we get on the Atlantic.  

As you'll see here, they can get to be 30 to 50' during the peak season, or storms.  Absolutely huge, taller than houses:

Pretty awesome.  Magical, even.

This, Magic Seaweed, is a site I used this past month to plan my dives. It's for surfers, but the same information is useful to forecast water clarity. High swells (good surfing) stirs sediment and usually brings in plankton, which clouds the water and reduces visibility dramatically.  Low swells (bad surfing) makes for good diving, in other words. 

When the swells were forecasted at two feet or so, that's when we would dive.  I mean, I dove in murkier conditions, too.  But I really made sure to hit the low surf days.  

My end of the bay from Zicatela

Opposite view, facing away from town.

Dramatic crags divide the beaches, and are good places to body surf..

Now, like I say, I've preferred to hang out on the less glamorous Playa Principal.  

There are a half dozen good restaurants on the beach, and the dive boats are based here. 

This is where the authentic Puerto (the town that is behind the crest that rises immediately behind the beach, where all the natives live) meets the sea.  The harbor master and the Navy compound (there are always a few sailors hanging out near the beach in fatigues, carrying carbines - I feel my impotence as a documentarian here, I should have taken far more shots of the local color.. ) and the fishing fleet are all there.  There are dozens of boats anchored in the harbor and pulled up on the beach.  

There's a levee that shelters the beach, so the waves in the cove behind it are no where near as large here. The levee and the cliffs beyond it are excellent snorkeling, too.  

The lack of intimidating surf is the reason Mexicans congregate, to fish and bask in the water here.  So the crowd is usually very blue collar and almost entirely Mexican.  A stark contrast to Zicatela, in other words. 

This past weekend there was a fishing derby with large prizes (a new Dodge Ram and a VW SUV for the largest catch) and they had a stage and all sorts of other stuff set up along the beach.  There was constant Banda and Techno blaring, and a live announcer blabbing away almost constantly.  This noise began - I'm not exaggerating, though I wish I were - from Friday thru Sunday at 6 am, when the fleet of fishermen departed for the day.  

I travel with earplugs for a reason, people.  

They were out for sailfish, which I guess is a type of swordfish.  These things can get to be like 6 to 8 feet long, and can weigh well over 100 pounds, I'd guess.. Based on the monsters I saw hung by the stage (which again, I never thought to photograph, I am so sorry my public..) 

Here are some shots of my preferred habitat, hanging with the Oaxacans:

Roughneck, Hardscabble Oaxaca.

El Cocho sobre el playa.. 

Families Frolicking in the Sea..

 Women here balance stuff on their heads, impressing and amusing me..

"Espero.. "

The details of this last shot amuse me. First, he's half crackin' and fanny packin' boldly.  Which is awesome. Then, he's wearing crocs. And not just crocs, but orange crocs. That's a sartorial choice before which I can only stand in awe and applaud. I'm busting the crocs here, myself, boldly flying in the face of all that is fashionable, a true woman repeller. But I need shamefully acknowledge that mine are beige. No where near as daring as this muchacho, here.   

Then, he was repeatedly scribbling a word on the sand with a stick. I stood and watched him, pretending to be taking pictures of the beach, while surreptitiously taking shots of him.  

The tide kept coming and washing away his work, reminding me of this:

ONE day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washèd it away: Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide and made my pains his prey..  

I imagined he must be writing the name of his beloved. I was bemused, and touched. I couldn't read what he was writing and didn't want to be too obvious I was watching.. It had to wait until I got back to the room and could zoom the photographs in on the word.  

He was writing espero.  Again, and again.  I have multiple shots of him doing it, always writing it anew after the tide repeatedly came and made his pains its prey.  Perhaps a dozen times while I watched.

Espero. 

That my friends, means I hope.  

I hope.  How beautiful, How sad,  How glad..

This boat struck me, especially, for some reason..

One coconut two coconut three coconut four..

I took this shot walking down the main drag in town here, accidentally using my groovy Nikon "color sketch" mode.  When I got back and saw it, I loved it.   

That my friends is how Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca feels in a snapshot.  

Study that image with a beer in your hand. 

Now you feel just like you're here.

One last requisite gratuitous self portrait of yours truly in the hall outside my choice digs..

Pure Sex..

Tomorrow I'm leaving here for Ciudad Oaxaca, San Cristobal, Chiapas, and eventually the Yucatan.  I made my reservation to return home for Christmas this afternoon, I'm flying from Cancun into Orlando on the 20th.  I come bearing gifts.  Which is to say several bottles of tequila and Mezcal, amongst other beautiful things. 

And with that newsflash, I am off to bed.. Buen' Noche..

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