Road Trip: Oaxaca (and Girl Stalking)

In Oaxaca, we settle into a routine. It's funny how we've come so far to be unsettled by travel, and yet crave familiarity. Fauxhawk has brought all of his coffee accoutrements from home, though he is too sick to drink a drop. After we tend to him, Loverboy and I go to our favorite sunny spot for breakfast. I order huevos con chorizo, Oaxacan coffee (served with cinnamon), and papaya with a squirt of lime. We return day after day and look forward to walking somewhere without a map.

Loverboy and I have something in common – a mutual admiration for the beauty and style of Mexican women. Loverboy pines after our charming waitress, who flatters us by joking around in Spanish.

Later, Loverboy swoons. “I think we had a moment,” he says, pointing to a woman who is fifty yards away.

I grab his arm, focused on someone else. “Did you see that woman?”

“Where?”

“There!” And off I go, chasing her down the street with my camera.



She is elusive. I keep losing her in a crowd of people. I want to take her picture to remember how lovely she is, but I can’t catch up. And have no idea what I’d do if I did.



And then she is gone, disappearing down a street. I am left feeling strangely euphoric, as though I have witnessed something rare and divine.