On our way to the beach, we tripped upon one of Oaxaca’s magic mushroom capitals, San Jose del Pacifico. In the sixties, the Zapotec locals used to run and hide from the VW hippie vans passing through their cloud forest en route to the beach. But ever since the 70s, when they discovered the market value of an abundance of psilocybin sprouting from their amply composted pastures, the VW’s and their wild-eyed, drawstring pants occupants have been warmly embraced. And it’s not just the mushroom sales that buoy their economy, but the ancillary products like decorative mushrooms knit from their sheep’s wool and guided sweat rituals (called temezcales). From the looks of things, the town is doing relatively well, at least compared to its non-fungi neighbors.
A stout, fiftyish year old grandmother restauranteur, whilst chopping onions and tomatoes for our huevos a la Mexicana, described how her entire family enjoys an occasional mushroom outing. “Viajes” or “trips” she called them. After San Jose del Pacifico, “feliz viaje” will never quite have the same ring to it.
A stout, fiftyish year old grandmother restauranteur, whilst chopping onions and tomatoes for our huevos a la Mexicana, described how her entire family enjoys an occasional mushroom outing. “Viajes” or “trips” she called them. After San Jose del Pacifico, “feliz viaje” will never quite have the same ring to it.
1 comment:
No mushroom omlettes for the haaren-moss family?there's a great display in the folk museum in mexico city, several rooms of mushroom enhanced art. Don't miss it! why did everyone invite the mushroom to the party?? (because he was a fun-gui) -j
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