Day 9 – The Full Monte Alban and Oaxaca Cram Balam

I was rudely awoken at 4.40 to my bed vibrating like an old Sandman in the dunes in the 70s. A siren wailed in the distance as I opened a bleary eyelid. WTF??? Was I in a love motel in a vibrating coin operated bed like in the Leisure Suit Larry computer game Mum confiscated from me??? No, it was just an earthquake measuring 4.5 on the Richter scale. Ok. No worries. Nobody seemed particularly concerned. I had pants on if I had to get up. I rolled over and dozed a bit. So yes, now I can say the earth moved for me alone in my bed in Mexico.

Upon achieving a higher level of consciousness (fully woke!), I received a pleasant surprise when I checked my banking app to discover my rug was a thousand dollars cheaper than I thought it was. No hangover from the mezcal or buyer’s remorse either. But the reaction may be a delayed onset when I discover exactly how much it is to post home …

It was a momentary existential crisis. Had I betrayed the spirit of Scrooge? Was he shooting me daggers over the top of his pince nez glasses like a Yoda to my Luke? Failed me you have. In bank balance, certainly. But in adventure, I think not. It is all part of the epic story. The rich tapestry if you will – ha!!! The only thing missing from the comics I read as a kid (or now) was a manservant or a stubborn camel with a name like Kaboobie to lug it home. (I know that’s another cartoon, but there’s something very Carl Barks-ian about the name. FYI – Carl Barks drew the comics.)

Today was another big day. Just the way I like them. Monte Alban ruins in the morning and then back to town for choose your own adventure for the afternoon, then the 13 hour night bus to San Cristobal las Casas.

Monte Alban is a pretty old school ruin and, unlike Mitla, it’s massive. But visitors can’t see it all, of course. The site was founded about 500BC and abandoned by about 750AD. The civilisation that flourished here dominated the area now known as Oaxaca, e.g. the Valley of Mexico. It was the major city state with contacts and trade connections all the way up to Teotihuacán, buying obsidian from the northerners. Like Mitla, Monte Alban has tombs but no commando crawling down there. All blocked off. Some of the trees are cotton, featuring tufts of white puffs high up on the branches. My rug is made from these trees apparently.

We perambulated around to see a headless jaguar and a view of the main plaza. See my head obstructing it below or my whole body obstructing it right up the top.

The weather was initially quite chill. I was regretting the sleeveless option in the shade, but it warmed up! Vendors hawked their wares within the site. I bought two replicas of pieces excavated from Monte Alban – one ball player and a healer wearing a jaguar skull. Awesome. I am always on the hunt for sock-packable replica antiquities. Small, lightweight things that link with the sites I have visited.

We descended into the main plaza where I instantly felt happy and at home.

Jose (our guide) walked us over to a few buildings but I mostly remember the observatory featuring carvings of what was initially thought to be dancers. Big no. Bodies swayed in the breeze but they were not really dancing. They were doing the salsa of death, the tango of carking it, the mambo of the big sleep. Male captives were executed by full castration and the movements of their bodies in death looked like dancing – that’s what these carvings on the building represent.

Regretfully, we had to leave the plaza but went via the ball court where I took this smart arse picture. Depending on archaeologists, anthropologists or tour guides, the ball court was either used for sport (a ball game where you couldn’t use hands or feet and had to aim a ball through a hoop) or a ritual where that happened but it was not a game played but more of a sacred practice where winners or losers were sacrificed. Either with honour with the obsidian blade (e.g. quick and painless) or in a horrible way like disemboweled or castrated. The ritual is the preferred school of thought at the moment.

A quick visit to the museum to check out some mutilated teeth, a deformed skeleton (twisted spine), a carving of what happened to women who couldn’t have their meat and two veg removed (they bled out from a live hysterectomy – good to see punishment was not gendered), a skull with example of head binding and holes to alleviate pressure from diseases like encephalitis. I pulled a swifty to do a toilet run and a 2 second smash and grab of the gift shop for the guide to the site before joining the others on the bus back to Oaxaca.

Free time was the order of the day. A few of the others went back to the German place but I just couldn’t risk another extended wait. I was burned from how long it took to cook a pork sausage on a stick last time. There was only one thing for it – cheap, small and fast street tacos!!! (Just realised the street tacos are a lot like me!) Two bad boys of mystery meat down the hatch and into a street market for browsing.

After the restorative powers of a coffee, I bought a cool little Frida Kahlo skull with intricate carvings. I managed to leave the shop just before the old traveller’s bowel bubblings – my own personal 4.5 Richter scale rumbler – hit with the force of a tsunami. Uh oh. Rapido to the cultural centre, por favor! Make haste! It was my only hope in a sea of shops!I immediately complied with my own mental directives, striding purposefully in the way only those threatened with the most dire of rear issues truly can move like the wind. As I saw the sign, I dropped my bag and the small Frida skull shattered into a million pieces. My guts burbled and cramped. Sorry Frida. I charged ahead, dumped my bag at security, went through the metal detector, got directions and barged through an entire temporary exhibition to get to the end. An officious cleaner told me to wait because the floor was wet. I shot her a look that generally gave the impression that the floor was going to be wet and brown if she didn’t let me in right now. Blessed relief soon followed.

The cultural centre is about the history of the Oaxaca Mayan people. It’s pretty much a museum inside a Dominican convent. And it’s cool. That much you should know. Sooo many Mayan artifacts pulled from Monte Alban and surrounding areas. Also tells the story of conquest and daily life all within a unique setting of labyrinthine passageways and rooms. Plus a beautiful cactus garden!! I didn’t have time to visit it but I could see it at least.

I went back to check out the temporary exhibition. All in Spanish but I got to see the Mask of Calakmul who appears to be on a holiday to Oaxaca.

The main collection was outstanding. So many Mayan artifacts. I blew a photographic load there in about an hour. No English though. But that does encourage speed. So I was through there in about an hour and a half, but it was quite magnificent for a small museum.

I popped quickly into the Santo Domingo church next door. You can see it through the window shot above. The ceiling was a magic cave with the usual genealogical chart of saints tracing their lineage back to Jesus but very low and ornate. Very pretty. Just enough time to dash back for a replacement Frida skull – sadly not the same design but close – much to the befuddlement of the staff who I think were of the misguided opinion I was trying to ask for my money back on the original shattered Frida cranium. Google translate fixed it quick. The very sweet girl tried to put Frida together like Humpty Dumpty but she was well beyond Selleys superglue redemption. I bought a bag of chocolates to share with the group as it was also a chocolate shop.

Time to return to the hotel. The group left in taxis for the bus station.

The overnight bus to Oaxaca was 13!hours. A nightcap to help us go night night )and to get the giant bottle out of my bag) was in order. I busted out David’s old mezcal, Brin went for the cups and the juice and we drained it to the last drop. On the bus, I passed out chocolates to the group plus a French couple who I mistook for two of our people in the dark. They took them too .Did they think it was part of the service???? I didn’t sleep a wink because the rug occupied all my leg space. It was only later that I noticed the overhead compartments…

Thank you for your diligence, loyal reader. Stay tuned for more HockTales very soon because I am on another bus right now!