Oaxaca – It’s beautiful

6 hours ago

3 min read

Santo Domingo Yanhuitlán

In Santo Domingo Yanhuitlán (at an altitude of 2,100 m), in the Mixteca Alta, I come across a major surprise: an immense church (along with its associated structures) spanning 6,000 m², built by Dominican friars. To decorate it, they brought in a Spanish painter, Andrés de la Concha.

In 1550, the journey from Spain to Mexico easily took 3 to 4 months (via the Canary Islands and the Atlantic to Veracruz, followed by an ascent into the mountains on the back of a mule). There were no direct flights, no Wi-Fi, and—presumably—no playlist to help pass the time. Having made that trip, he must have decided that crossing the ocean again would be far too exhausting; he ended up staying for 40 years, painting churches and cathedrals throughout New Spain… until the day he died.

Climate change???

In the 1980s, the Mixteca Alta region was a devastated landscape—parched land suffering from accelerated erosion, a consequence of farming techniques adopted in the 1970s: intensive maize production reliant on fertilizers and pesticides.

At that time, a 22-year-old man named Jesús León Santos refused to emigrate to the United States. Instead, he took a gamble: he set out to persuade the region’s small-scale farmers to adopt agricultural practices used by the Zapotec people thousands of years ago.

He revived the *tequio*—a form of voluntary collective labor—planted trees to retain water, and reintroduced traditional terracing and crops.

Fifty years later, his cooperative includes 1,500 farmers, a million trees have been planted, and the groundwater tables have been replenished. The sustainable agriculture program, implemented across 5,000 hectares, has increased the share of arable land from 30% to over 80%, while boosting productivity by 50%.

Conclusion: The best way to combat climate change? Quite simply, to work with nature rather than against it.

Oaxaca de Juárez

I then continue on to Oaxaca de Juárez, where I spend the night, after visiting the cathedral. The original structure dates back to 1535, but it was damaged or destroyed several times by earthquakes. The current cathedral was consecrated in 1733.

Every time I enter a new church, I am fascinated by the grandeur and beauty of these monuments—created centuries ago with far fewer resources, yet with so much more faith.

Mitla

The next day, direction Mitla. It's close but I'll need at least two days to see everything.

Hierve el Agua

It is a spectacular site: large, petrified cascades formed by water rich in calcium carbonate, which gushes from thermal springs at the top of the cliff. Despite the name (“the water boils”), the water is not boiling; it remains between 22 and 27°C. It is the bubbles escaping from the underground springs that create this impression. Over the millennia, the deposit of limestone has created immense curtains of white stone that adorn the valley.

Mictlán

The archaeological site of Mitla stands out from other Mexican sites: there are no large pyramids, but rather low-slung palaces (which are more resistant to the earthquakes that occur very frequently in the region). What surprises me most are the "grecques"—intricate geometric mosaics. Here, they are composed of thousands of small, polished stones fitted together without any mortar. It is a level of precision that I am… incapable of achieving.

Children made drawings on the walls...

I also visit the prehistoric caves of Yagul and Mitla, which house cave paintings dating back about 12,000 years. David, my guide, shows me five of them (there are more than 200 in the valley) and explains their history to me.

After these two days in Mitla, and following the advice of a motorcycle enthusiast, we adjusted our route slightly to spend the night in San José del Pacífico, a picturesque mountain village (at an altitude of 2,400 m). It will be 12°C tonight; the fireplace is a welcome addition to our cabin.