Just Everyday…

Well, after a short interruption of the flu I think we’re back on track. This week was Matt’s last week at school. He’s feeling good about it now and is able to communicate on a basic level with people here in Oaxaca. We haven’t been able to make it out to see as many things lately due to being sick, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to talk about the everyday a little. Living in the City of Oaxaca is very different than on a ‘farmhouse’ in Quincy. There are so many more noises and smells. Everyday we get woken up by a rooster. Our little nighbor, Gabi, has him as a pet, and he crows about every 10 minutes starting at about 5am. Matt keeps offering to wring the rooster’s neck and cook up a good chicken dinner, but Gabi keeps insisting he doesn’t like chicken.
Somewhere between 7 and 10am the natural gas truck comes around. It has a recording that ‘moos,’ plays a part of a song, and then a voice like a soccer announcer comes on and says, ‘Gas de Oaxaca’ and it starts all over again. Later in the afternoon the Tortilla truck comes by. Again, the soccer announcer, ‘Las Tortillas!’ and a popular song plays for a while. The announcer continues to tell you that you should buy tortillas. Why leave your house when you can get fresh, hot tortillas right at your door step. There is also a fruit truck that comes by every now and then. They didn’t have the luxury of hiring a soccer announcer, but the amateurs do pretty good too. The hardest one I have found in recognizing, and probably the most important one, is the garbage truck. They have a bell, and Doña Zoila tells me that there are kids that run up and down the side streets ringing bells as well. I have yet to catch the garbage truck on my own. The trucks come up on either side of our street and then each person has to bring their own garbage out to the truck.
Probably my favorite sound from the street is the old gentleman in the evenings who cries out ‘Eloooootes,’ in a somewhat somber, yet sing-songy voice. He is selling roasted corn on a stick. Matt talked with Doña Zoila and says that the gentleman in our neighborhood is blind and goes out each evening to sell his corn. I’m glad we have him to accompany us as we drift off to sleep. It’s a much more soothing than the soccer announcers.