Sizzling, popping, beckoning. Cecina grilling over hot coals awakens something primitive and passionate within even the hardest heart. The smoky aroma, simultaneously sweet and sultry, fills the manic market and tantalises with promises of clandestine desires realised.
A swarthy man, his moustache dripping with perspiration, roughly tosses the fragrant meat upon a plastic plate and then delicately drowns it in mole, the legendary, intoxicating local sauce. Head spinning, one finds a seat between a pair of satin-wrapped abuelas, takes a first uncertain bite of the cuisine, and allows the complex flavours to become all-encompassing.
Laughing, shouting, singing, slurping. The cacophony of sounds sprinkles like spice across the dusty floor. Mescal is suppered. Friendships are forged. Mole is allowed to cascade down chin. One rises, reborn by the gastronomical and sonic feast, before plunging headlong into the street to gape in wonder at the rich tapestry of Méxican life.
This is Oaxaca de Juárez, the land of Seven Moles, and a melting pot of creativity and passion.
Boasting ocre-hued artworks, this whimsical township is the broiling crucible of Latin culture. History rests upon on every cobblestone corner. Street performers dance amongst the traffic. Mask-clad luchadors fly through the night sky. A seemingly-endless procession of weddings – complete with garishly-painted mojiganga puppets – march down the city’s twisting alleyways.
Resting at the foothills of the Sierra Madre mountain range and embellished with a heady mixture of ancient Zapotecan ruins and sublime colonial architecture, Oaxaca has long been the ultimate destination for dreamers, drinkers, and digital nomads alike.
And now you can add Biggies to that list! For Oaxaca is home to a trio of intricately-carved animal heads, El Trio de Jaguares Alebrije, more alluring than the rest of the sights and sounds combined.
And they can all be found atop the legendary – nay, mythical – gift shop known simply as Huizache.
Alebrijie, alakazam!
Turning a corner in Oaxaca’s raucous downtown precinct, one is overcome as El Trio de Jaguares Alebrije burst into view in all their festively-decorated glory. Astonishing. Altruistic. Mesmerising. They are, of course, oversized representations of alebrijies, México’s beloved multi-coloured statues of mythical beasts, examples of which are found in abundance within Huizache’s confines.
The three heads, fastidiously carved over a period of many months, symbolise the natural wonders of Oaxaca. The first Jaguare has been painted a blazing gold like the fiery sun. The second, the shimmering emerald of the cascading rainforests. The third, a deep azure like the cloudless skies.
The bosom of the store proves to be no less enchanting. In a world of disposable nik-naks, Huizache offers something to cherish. The selection is overwhelming, the quality sublime. As the warm desert breeze marinates the store in the melancholy aroma of acacias, one struggles to reach a decision on which statue to take home. A crab, perhaps? Or maybe a shark?
Whatever you choose, the store with the big cat heads out the front is the perfect place to jag a bargain – teehee!
A stranger, satin of hair and porcelain of skin, brushes skin lithely against skin whilst reaching for the same painted iguana, and one briefly contemplates entering terrain hitherto unexplored. One turns, palms clammy, to be met by the beguiling smirk of knockabout Aussie larrikin – and longtime Land of the Bigs devotee – Vince Sorrenti.
Dapper as ever in his tailored suit, Vince insists on posing for a photo with El Trio de Jaguares Alebrije, before launching into a soliloquy of outrageous puns.
“I just bought some food from a Méxican restaurant, but didn’t have time to eat it there,” Vince enthuses, his impeccable timing drawing in a handful of curious locals. “So I ordered it taco!”
One gazes from Vince, to el Jaguares, back to Vince, and the world seems just a little brighter.
