The Dirtbag Diaries #3
Oct 24’- Dec 24’
Since my last Dirtbag Diary entry, we had the big surprise of following in love with Southwest Colorado as we traveled through it late spring. We were so smitten that we stayed put for the next six months and bought 5 acres of vacant land in the high desert. I talked about that and covered a lot of our summer here, so this latest post jumps ahead to when Colorado starts to get cold and we hit the road again. Before we left completely, I finally got to experience a bucket-list event, the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta.
Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta
We brought our caravan to the Fiesta grounds and watched the slow morning ascensions and evening glows. One of the most novel things was the ability to walk right up to the balloons and their crews. As long as you stayed out of the way of the fans and lines, you could wander in between all the colorful behemoths as they slowly filled with air and rose.
The following mornings we got the extra-special treat of watching them land right in front of our rig, in a cleared spot called ‘The Box.’ It was really remarkable, sleepily rolling out of bed, climbing onto our roof, and balloon-gazing as hundreds of them drifted all around us.
Oaxaca
After our Southwest summer, we returned once again to Mexico this year, this time to the mainland city of Oaxaca. I’ve heard of Oaxaca for years, lauded by digital nomads and renowned for being the epicenter of Día de los Muertos celebrations. I have always wanted to experience this cultural heritage myself, so we put the rig in storage and flew down to southern Mexico at the end of October.
The city of Oaxaca is a beautiful, lively space, with countless little streets for wandering and colorful, historic architecture. My favorite thing about coming here for Día de los Muertos was the general spirit that was imbued in the whole city. Every neighborhood has their own parades, decoration competitions, and celebrations. Joyful, loud parades are a staple of celebration in Oaxaca anyway, but for Día de los Muertos, people went all out. One of my favorite moments was when we were standing on a street, watching the main, official parade start to wind its way around the block towards us. Suddenly, a smaller parade, made up entirely of costumed children came around the corner from the opposite direction. Apparently a local school didn’t check the main parade route map before they set out. The two parades very slowly collided, the children ushered to continue down one side while giant puppets and dancing Catrinas squeezed past them, undeterred.
Outside of the boisterous street celebrations, visiting cemeteries, or panteóns as they are called in Mexico, is an essential part of the Día de los Muertos experience, but also the most delicate. This is where families come to visit the graves of their loved ones and reminisce and celebrate life together. Before we came down, I often read that the best way to experience the celebrations was with a tour, and many included joining a family in their Día de los Muertos traditions. Personally, I thought that felt too voyeuristic and a bit like paying to be a part of someone’s Christmas or other personal celebration. So we decided to visit various cemeteries on our own and I was so glad we did. Taking care to be respectful, keeping a distance from families, and meticulously watching where we stepped, we made our way through gorgeously adorned graves, covered with candles and offerings.
At one point, I was admiring one tomb from a distance when I realized there were two young women next to it crying. I quickly left and returned at a later time to look at the engravings and saw it was an older Senor who had passed less than three weeks before, their dad perhaps. It was a somber reminder that despite the spirit of celebration, this was still a space for grief and pain, not a tourist attraction. If we had come by those women while on a tour, I would have been mortified.
Instead of being led around by a guide, we tried to take the holiday to heart, sitting among graves and reminiscing about our own loved ones who had passed. How beautiful to be encouraged to think of those gone with laughter and joy, instead of timidness and uncertainty.
The most striking thing about walking through the cemeteries was the smell. Bright orange marigolds (cempasúchil in Nahuatl) are ubiquitous around Día de los Muertos, with their scent and brightness said to guide souls towards their altars. Millions of marigolds fill the streets around the holidays, but concentrated on gravestones and tombs, their scent mixes with burning copal resin on altars and creates the most beautiful sensory experience.
Outside of one of the largest panteóns, a man stood dressed as the Grim Reaper. I laughed aloud at the sight, which would have been so inappropriate in an American cemetery, but somehow fit right in here.
Another fun tradition we partook in was getting a Catrina facepaint, which adorned both locals and tourists. Facepainters lined the main streets and you could take your pick of them as you walked by, which was no easy task. I decided to approach it like I would a tattoo artist and looked for well-done lines. I was really happy with the artist who painted us (she in fact, was married to a tattoo artist) and got some intensive Spanish practice while she painted and chatted.
Mr DD and I with our friend, Sam
La Catrina was first created by activist José Guadalupe Posada in 1910 as a satirical objection to classism and social inequality in Mexico. The image of a skeleton in a fancy French hat mocked those in Mexican society who tried to hide their local heritage and race behind European fashions. Posada famously proclaimed, “Todos somos calaveras" (We are all skulls).
The image of La Catrina gained popularity when Diego Rivera painted her into a mural, clothing her in an ornate dress. Since then, she has become a symbol of Mexican culture and Día de los Muertos. Men and women get their faces painted in homage throughout the week leading up to Dia de los Muertos. It serves not as a costume, but a way to celebrate the rich traditions of this holiday, a reminder of the ephemeral nature of life, and a glimpse of the beauty found in death.
Once the Día de los Muertos celebrations died down, we took some trips outside the city to Teotitlán del Valle, a village famous for its textiles, with weaving traditions dating back to 500 BCE, and to Monte Alban, the impressive Zapotec ruins that towers over the surrounding valley.
After a couple weeks in Oaxaca city, we traveled down to the coast, which was MUCH hotter than the mountainous inland. So we mostly sweated, ate, swam, and lounged in air conditioned rooms in a luxuriously idle two weeks. I’ll never say no to floating in warm oceans, but I was also happy to return to the city for another couple of weeks wandering the beautiful murals and getting some routine medical tourism in.
International Travel with the Dirtbag Dog
Kipling has been to both Canada and Mexico before, but this was the first international destination with him that we flew to. It was wonderful to have him with us for the six weeks and not miss him. Almost every restaurant and store in Oaxaca was dog-friendly and it was easy to explore the city with him. The cries of ‘perrito!’ from local children never got old. However, it was challenging to walk him on the narrow, hazardous Mexican sidewalks and as a dog very accustomed to roaming off-leach in big open spaces, we could tell he was tired of it by the end too. We had to schedule some non-dog friendly outings around him and it was almost impossible to take day trips because of that. I also snuck him on some long-distance buses, but he’s a very good, quiet boy and didn’t cause any trouble.
We had an interesting last week as we were informed a few days before our flight back to the US that the CDC now required a screwworm exam and certificate for him to come back into the States. Apparently a single affected cow had crossed the border a couple days prior and now American dog owners all over Mexico were thrown into flux. There was a lack of communication between the CDC and the Mexican version of the CDC, so the former was requiring an official certificate that the latter was not yet ready to issue and it was one big, confusing grey area.
Thankfully, I found an online group called ‘CDC Dog Import Help,’ full of helpful American women who all shared information they had gleaned from officials and vets in other Latin countries. They also shared their experiences as each day a dog or two would cross back into the US, so far without issue. I found a local vet in Oaxaca, explained the situation to him (they had no idea about it yet) and helped him spell ‘screwworm’ on a makeshift certificate. We flew back through Dallas and not a soul cared about the dog or worms. It was all very stressful and made me reconsider bringing Kip on future international flights- it was a terrible feeling knowing that there was a possibility he could be kept from flying. He will return to Baja by car though! And I got to triumphantly share my experience with all the other trauma-bonded women of the Dog Import group.
New Mexico
Upon our return to the States, we picked up our rig from Albuquerque Airport and headed south once again. Our camper had become, in our absence, a mouse metropolis. Being very against killing house guests whenever possible, I spent the next few days capturing them in twos and driving them to a nearby park in Southern New Mexico, where I tried not to look like an absolute creep crouching in the bushes as I released them.
Once we were mouse-free, we took a detour to White Sands National Park, which I have wanted to photograph for a long time. Mr. DD and I are big fans of all giant sand dunes and White Sands did not disappoint. As the sun set, the light turned glorious and made the dunes look like a snowy dreamscape, stretching for miles in every direction.
Stuff I Made
I needlefelted this rib cage specifically for el Día de los Muertos and it was a joy to wear it for the festivities in Oaxaca.
I’ve also been enjoying a niche type of weaving called circle weaving. You use a hoop as a loom and can make small, portable weavings that are travel-friendly.
