What happened from the time of Zen gardens and paper cranes? There was beautiful Oaxaca and Yucatán-- and a far too stressful year of wading through ugliness in the work world. . . But that world is not worth sharing, when there is beauty--the Guelaguetza, the festival of sharing, in the city now ravaged by pain. When I was there in July 2005, fire rained from wires across the streets, rained down the cathedral face in the zócalo. Today they say people stay in their houses, afraid. I remember the green tiles I never saw paving the plaza, the demonstrations rupturing the placid image, the scent of trouble already in the cool morning air. Every day there is another story from Oaxaca, the land of the moles, the languages, and the people of the clouds.
