A view of pueblo life in Mexico from the inside

At about 8:30 at night, an artillery-like barrage of fireworks shattered the silence, followed by the oompah of a tuba and the beating of drums. My curiosity aroused, I left the simple wooden cabin in which I was staying and went into the darkness to investigate. I found a slow-moving parade of perhaps 200 people shuffling down the streets of the Mexican village of Santa Ana del Valle, some 20 miles east of the city of Oaxaca. Indigenous Zapotec faces, from the newborn to the elderly, glowed in the flickering light of the candles many carried, along with bouquets of poinsettias, roses, or gladiolus.

A traditional holiday song was chanted in slow repetitions. From flat rooftops lining the route, children showered the marchers with candy; mischievous boys in the street tossed lighted firecrackers back at the kids up above. In the center of the procession, atop a canopied litter and amid a pungent cloud of copal, were Barbie-size figures of Mary and Joseph, with baby Jesus in a basket.

I'd stumbled onto a small-town posada, a ritual re-enactment of the troubles that Mary and Joseph had finding a room at an inn; after visiting two homes where they were turned away, the marchers were at last invited into a third, where more songs were sung, tamales and rice pudding were devoured, and many a pinata was smashed by gleeful children. The only stranger there, I was welcomed warmly. And I was only there because I'd chosen to spend this December night at the cabana turistica — also known as a yu'u — run by the village, and part of a government-sponsored system of rural lodging spread across the state of Oaxaca.

For prices starting as low as 80 pesos a night per person, or 400 pesos a night for an entire cabin that sleeps four ($7 or $36 at 11 pesos to the dollar), the cabanas offer the best way to get a deeper glimpse of life in Oaxaca's small pueblos than is possible in a day trip.

Some of the 16 pueblos featuring cabanas offer horseback riding and mountain bike rentals; others tout their scenic locations or traditional handicrafts.


While many of these destinations are featured on Oaxaca's Spanish-only tourism Web site, www.oaxaca.travel, the best way to decide which to visit is to stop at the state's tourist information bureau, in Oaxaca city (Murguia 206; 52-951-516-0123). Brochures describe most of the pueblos in the program, and English-speaking staff members can answer questions and phone in reservations, which are recommended.

But traveler beware: The first time I enquired about Santa Ana del Valle, I was told there was no cabana there. After I pressed the matter, it turned out there was one, and a reservation was made. The caretaker in the village, however, failed to meet my family at the cabana, resulting in a half-hour hunt for him. Later, when trying to make reservations at Santiago Apoala, phone contact proved impossible, and the information sheet the bureau provided was riddled with inaccuracies. An easier and more efficient way is to go to the office of Expediciones Sierra Norte (52-951-514-8271; www.sierranorte.org.mx), which books lodging and organizes tours for a group of eight pueblos in the cabana system known as the Pueblos Mancomunados.

In the Sierra Norte mountain range, these pueblos are the heart of Oaxacan ecotourism. They've teamed up to create a network of walking and biking trails, linking the villages and creating possibilities for treks up to a week long. Visitors pay a fee of 50 pesos to enter the area, and despite the availability of fantastic trail maps, guides are required even for day hiking, in an effort to create jobs for local people and keep tourists safe. A guide for one to 10 people costs 120 pesos a day.

"I didn't think we'd need the guide, but we wouldn't have known where to go without one," said Brian Hirsch, of Homer, Alaska, who spent a day hiking around the village of Cuajimoloyas with his wife and two daughters, before staying the night in a cabana there. His daughter, Aviva, 14, said the villagers had been very welcoming and "wanted to make us comfortable," explaining, "If they can make money off of us coming to see their forest, they won't have to cut down their trees to sell them."

For some pueblos, the cabanas have financed schools and health clinics; others have barely recovered their operating expenses. In summer, the Pueblos Mancomunados receive up to about 500 visitors each month; Apoala may get 150; other pueblos see a mere handful.

While the state of Oaxaca has promoted the eco-lodging project for over a decade, each cabana is run by a local committee. Since committee members are usually performing a year of unpaid mandatory community service, quality control can be inconsistent. "There would definitely be better services if the managers earned a salary," said Carlos Gutierrez, an Oaxaca state tourism official. "But that's up to the pueblos."

In Santa Ana del Valle, a village renowned for its weavers, the cabana grounds were beautifully tended and the bedding was spotless; the poorly built, thin wooden walls, however, were covered in spider webs and were useless against the freezing night air and the insane ruckus of barking dogs.

In Santiago Apoala — tucked in a dramatic, isolated valley in Oaxaca's Mixteca region and popular for its waterfall — the newly refurbished cabana was solid and clean, but a propane leak in the kitchen emitted a slightly noxious aroma and required that windows in the dining room stay open. "It's dangerous to close those," warned Hector Guzman, manager of the cabana. "The place might explode."

In Benito Juarez, one of the Pueblos Mancomunados, the staff was well organized, but broken reading lights dangled from the cabin's adobe walls, the brick floor was coated with grunge, and in January at 10,000 feet above sea level, it was refrigerator-cold, inspiring us to creatively redecorate — moving beds away from windows that leaked wind and rain, and as near to the fireplace as safety permitted. The personable manager, 24-year-old Ulises Santiago, just days away from completing his year of involuntary tourism service, was attentive, though his mind wandered to other things; in a week, he'd be leaving the cloud forest and moving to California, with dreams of making money. "I've got a job lined up in a restaurant," he said optimistically. "Jack in the Box."

Despite their imperfections, it's hard to complain too much about such inexpensive lodging in such special destinations. After pointing out multiple minor shortcomings of the cabana in Apoala, Eduardo Uribe, visiting from Canada, said, "I thought I might stay here a night, but this area is so nice, I've already stayed four."

(πηγή: www.iht.com, 11/2/2008)