To market, to market in Oaxaca

Every Sunday, the weavers of the Oaxaca Valley travel to the weekly market in Tlacolula to sell their handmade wool rugs.

Working our way through crowded streets, past vendors selling freshly plucked chickens, exotic peppers and homemade mescal, my wife, Lietza, and I found the renowned artisans on a quiet side street. Booth after booth offered the distinctive rugs of red, blue and orange, colors achieved from dyes made from local roots and cactuses using formulas handed down through generations.

A smiling teenager, Eric Chavez, proudly showed us one of his father’s rugs, a bright mosaic of right angles, the patterns characteristic of the Zapotec, Meso-Americans who ruled the region centuries ago.

“You can take a picture with my father,” Chavez said, offering the local version of an authentication certificate.

The Tlacolula market is one of several weekly tianguis, or small Indian markets, in Oaxaca state, each with its own style, crafts and charms -- vibrant, flowing masses of culture and commerce. Some markets are known for weavings, others for black pottery, still others for carved wooden animals or spices.

Oaxaca, an hour flight south of Mexico City, is distinct from other Mexican states, a product of the Sierra Madre and proud cultures that took root in the fertile valley long before the arrival of the conquistadors.

On any day of the week you’ll find tianguis in one of the region’s towns, and most are within an easy drive of the city of Oaxaca, the state’s bustling capital, where Lietza and I arrived intent on exploring the state’s markets despite a June rainstorm.

We had decided not to rent a car. Although driving is fairly easy in rural areas, it can be a nightmare if you get behind the wrong goat cart. Besides, rental cars are expensive here, usually at least $75 a day, including mandatory insurance. So for our first foray to the markets, we took a no-hassle four-hour tour in an air-conditioned minivan, priced at about $16 each and arranged through our hotel, the Hotel de la Parra.

Our destination was the Friday market in Ocotlan, one of the state’s largest and most colorful, but first we stopped in San Bartolo Coyotepec, a neighborhood 10 minutes from Oaxaca’s center, where handmade black pottery is the specialty. The van dropped us in front of the home of renowned potter Dona Rosa, one of the pioneer creators of black pottery.

After more tourist vans pulled up, Dona Rosa’s 75-year-old son, Valente, demonstrated his family’s techniques. Then we were encouraged to browse long tables that held shiny black clay objects, including intricate sculptures and heavy ashtrays. Some striking large black jars caught our eye. They were $85 each but would have been too expensive to ship to the U.S. Instead we chose a small box with a finely detailed cover for about $2.50.

Center for weavers

A half-hour after our arrival, we were herded into the van and on our way to Santo Tomas Jalieza, a village a few miles off the main road. It’s known for bright pastel weavings produced by local families.

While Lietza browsed the small open-air market and the cluster of shops, I wandered across the street to an old church. On one corner, a man sold homemade ice cream out of a cart, the vats chilling on a bed of ice. Children played around the bandstand in the town square, playing hide and seek in the bushes.

Santo Tomas was charming, but our goal was the popular market in Ocotlan. We didn’t get to the town’s hectic square until 1 p.m., when the sun was searing the mountain valley. The driver told us we would have only an hour, far too little time to explore. On all sides of the old square, stalls seemed to stretch endlessly; we saw new hats, accessories for oxen, fresh flowers and bushels of unusual cactuses. Down one alley, butchers worked in the open air, and the hanging rows of intestines and various cuts over wire attracted regular customers and armies of bugs. As we battled the crush, tiny, wrinkled old women effortlessly worked through it, intent on shopping.

Around the square’s old fountain, families dressed in their finest going-to-town clothes -- the men with shiny belt buckles and broad white hats, women in their intricately embroidered home-sewn dresses -- sat in the shade of flowering bougainvillea, taking a break from negotiating for baskets of mangoes or plump turkeys.

I left Lietza to go on a photography expedition, during which I discovered several people who didn’t like having their picture taken. When I asked for permission, they invariably reacted angrily, waving me away with clearly translatable gestures. When I rejoined my wife, she was deep in negotiations for two rugs. I quickly moved into the bad-cop routine we often use when bargaining.

“Not again. I’ve had it,” I said, storming away, making it clear our marriage was teetering on the edge of another insane purchase. When I returned, it was obvious my playacting had not worked: The vendor looked unimpressed. He started the bidding at about $150 for the two rugs and after 10 minutes of bad community theater we ended at $130.

We could have easily spent another hour working through the market, perhaps even snacking at one of the crowded taco stands, but our van driver was impatiently waiting to take us back to Oaxaca.

The city of Oaxaca has two markets -- the daily Mercado Juarez (the Wal-Mart for downtown residents, located just south of the zocalo, Oaxaca’s main square) and the Mercado Asbastos on Saturdays. Friends warned us that the Oaxaca markets are relatively uninteresting, and they were right.

After a long walk through the narrow, congested streets, we found the Mercado Asbastos near the bus station. It lacked the rural charm of Ocotlan’s market and was more like a swap meet in a sports arena parking lot, with stalls of T-shirts, CDs of questionable origin, auto parts and cheap radios.

No artisans, but it was the source for many of the exotic flavors we had dined on in Oaxaca’s restaurants. Rows of booths featured huge baskets overflowing with peppers, chiles and spices, their aroma filling the air and mixing with the roasting chickens and meat grilling on open ranges.

A mecca for rugs

Though we were irritated by the rushed pace of the previous day’s van tour, for the sake of convenience, we signed up the next day for a tour to Tlacolula’s weekly Sunday market, because it included stops in Mitla, which holds one of the area’s Meso-American ruins, and Teotitlan del Valle, a village well known for rugs.

Our first stop was the village of Santa Maria del Tule. It may not have the crafts and ruins of its neighbors, but it’s famous for a gnarled old cypress. After admiring it, we sailed in a red Suburban down a smooth new highway toward Mitla, passing groves of agave plants grown to supply the local mescal mills.

Mitla, although not as celebrated as the ruins of Monte Alban that sit atop a majestic plateau near Oaxaca city, is equally significant, full of large block-stone structures, the remains of a Zapotec civilization that dominated the area in the 1300s, before the Spaniards came with their horses.

“The Zapotec were architects,” our guide said as he led us through ancient chambers and tombs. Long ago scientists determined that the structures were built with the 3-foot-tall stones from quarries 10 miles away. To this day, no one knows how the builders moved the stones without horses.

In 1592, the Spanish built a church honoring San Pablo atop an old Zapotec palace. It still serves Mitla’s villagers, and Sunday services were beginning as I wandered into its great hall, illuminated by candles on an old wooden chandelier hanging from a rope thrown over a beam in the bell tower. Families took Communion in front of a towering gold-plated altar, surrounded by centuries-old frescoes and fading portraits of beloved saints.

I could have used another hour to explore Mitla, but we were rushed back into the Suburban. For our next stop, instead of the grand market of Tlacolula, we pulled in at a mescal stand by the road for a “tour” of the facilities, an old stone mill surrounded by a thick pack of flies.

Samples of the fiery mescal, with flavors as diverse as pineapple and cappuccino, were passed in tiny plastic cups around a bar to an appreciative audience. Before we headed back to the vehicle, one of our companions, a man with a wide Panama hat, purchased a bamboo shooter, a sort of mescal sippy cup, which he hung from a strap around his neck.

Ten minutes later, we reached Tlacolula, another market packed with shoppers. The driver told us we would have no more than an hour there, hinting he would leave if we didn’t make it back in time.

We scurried into the street lined with stalls, passing vendors displaying an array of leather products, briefcases, backpacks and shiny belts.

By the time we reached the side street with the weavers, we were more than 30 minutes into our allotted hour. Our van mates were negotiating for colorful tablecloths when we started back, empty-handed, to the van.

It was well past 2 p.m. when we drove into Teotitlan. Although it is little more than a collection of huts and half-finished brick houses with no electricity or running water, the village is famed for its bright rugs.

We were shown into a small brick building where dozens of rugs hung from the walls. A middle-aged man demonstrated local weaving techniques, from spinning the wool to the use of pomegranate and mesquite to make dyes.

The rugs were spectacular, with intricate designs that spoke of lost culture and craft, but Lietza and I were too weary to buy anything. We had burned out, tired of the indifferent guide and driving around in the van. We couldn’t wait to get back to Oaxaca, where we vowed to never again allow ourselves to be hauled around on a tour.

Getting around gets better

For our next excursion, we arranged through our hotel to hire eager-to-please Juan Manuel, who showed up at 9 a.m. driving a shiny new red Chevrolet. The price was 130 pesos an hour (about $12), which meant a three-hour trip would cost about the same as van tour.

Our goal was the Thursday market in Zaachila (pronounced Sha-chee-la), about a 45-minute drive through rush-hour traffic. Zaachila, we were told, is known for handmade baskets and the carved-wood animals found throughout Mexico.

But Zaachila was more like a community farmers’ market. Horse-drawn carts filled the road. Women sold dried corn and nuts from wheelbarrows. In the bustling market we saw only a few examples of the wood figures we wanted to buy, but on a side street we bought two intricately carved ladybugs for 60 pesos each ($5.50).

With Juan dozing in the driver’s seat of the Chevrolet, we walked up the street to a small city park. Young lovers sat among the trees, perched on stones at the foot of grassy mounds, unexcavated archeological sites, we soon learned.

We lingered there among the ghosts of an ancient civilization before rousing Juan. Our initial thought was to return to Oaxaca, but when we passed the grounds of Cuilapan de Guerrero, an extravagant 16th century basilica and former convent along the main road, we shouted for Juan to stop.

As Juan returned to napping, we explored old stone arches and passageways. In the courtyard, some men set off fireworks, sending rockets shooting into the sky.

From inside the church came the somber tones of a funeral. With no one to rush us, we sat on the stone steps and listened to the mournful refrain as fireworks burst overhead, contemplating, only for a moment, all those rugs we could have bought in Teotitlan.

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Handicraft central in Mexico

GETTING THERE:

From LAX, Mexicana flies direct (stop, no change of plane) to Oaxaca. Continental and AeroMexico have connecting flights (with change of plane). Restricted round-trip fares begin at $437.

TELEPHONES:

To call the numbers below from the U.S., dial 011 (international dialing code), 52 (country code for Mexico), 951 (area code for Oaxaca) and the local number.

WHERE TO STAY:

Hotel de la Parra, 117 Guerrero; 514-1900, www.hoteldelaparra.net. Half a block from the zocalo yet relatively quiet. Rooms are air-conditioned. Doubles $105-$125.

Casa de Sierra Azul, 1002 Hidalgo; 514-7171 or from U.S. (888) 624-3341, www.mexonline.com/sierrazul.htm. Well priced and comfortable, rooms are arranged around a pleasant courtyard with fountain. Doubles $90-$125.

Camino Real, 300 Calle 5 de Mayo; (800) 722-6466, www.camino real.com/oaxaca. The building was a convent, and many of the old frescoes are visible. Each evening the region’s rich and famous mingle in the courtyard bar. Doubles $210-$280.

WHERE TO EAT:

Restaurante el Naranjo, 203 Trujano; 514-1878, www.elnaranjo.com.mx. In a city known for its fine restaurants, El Naranjo is one of the most revered. Each night a different mole is featured. Dinner for two about $40.

Restaurante Catedral, 105 Garcia Vigil; 516-3285. New twists on Oaxaca’s exotic flavors, from pumpkin flower soup to mole tamales. Dinner for two about $30.

Casa de la Abuela, 616 Hidalgo; 516-3544. A great place to try champulines (grasshoppers), served sprinkled over a salad. Dinner for two about $25.

TO LEARN MORE:

Mexico Tourism Board, 1880 Century Park E., Suite 511, Los Angeles, CA 90067; (800) 446-3942 or (310) 282-9112. www.visitmexico.com.

-- Kevin Brass