Update - February 12, 2009
Thursday evening, 10 pm.
Silence...at last.
It is a beautiful night, the sky is dark and star studded, crickets chirping and in the distance, dogs bark, taxis honk for business. Sounds waft up the hill as easily as the pollution seems to drift down. The more time I spend here the more I tune into the sounds of the rhythm of life here. The network of villages dotted along these hills are all connected by sound, with the church being one of the main central sounding boards. The other are the local town criers, who are in effect the local authorities and have the self given right to spread the news and blare out music of their choice at any hour of the day or night. The sound of these mens voices are usually so loud and distorted by the sound system that I have a hard time hearing what is being said, let alone understand it. Tonight the announcements and music went on from 8 until 10 pm. Since the announcer in the village is our neighbour, there was no escaping the barrage. Suffice it to say that the singsong of his particular voice will never be one that lulls me to sleep or be one that I eagerly await in the morning. This peculiar need to spread the word publicly joins the ever growing list of sounds I would prefer not to hear like loud firecrackers and explosively loud noisemakers that go off at any time for any excuse.
Thankfully I am usually on my morning walk before the cacophony starts with our neighbours 3 loud Good mornings!!!!at 7 am. Adan told me that this custom of the town criers same from the days when there was no radio or newspapers and is a little redundant in todays society. However, there seems to be no opposition (publicly) to this habit, so it continues.
The church bells are used with particular sounding rings for mass, deaths and emergencies. One low BONG then 2 short bong bongs signify a death, of which there have been 2 since my arrival. Several short higher pitched rings in succession signify a call to mass and are usually at 6 am, noon and 6 pm, although the times vary. Adan has told me that if there is a constant ringing that goes on for a long time then there is an emergency--like a big fire or something else catastrophic. The sound resonates everywhere so everyone in the valley can hear.
All day long there are vehicles that drive around the villages selling everything from fruit and water to propane. Each has a loudspeaker and blares out the contents of their wares. "We have the freshest orange", "try our sweet pineapples", "we have tortillas" or newspapers or todays bread. it is a constant flow of marketing that you cannot ignore. My favourite is the Gas of Oaxaca truck that has a horn like a cow. I follow its progress as it mooooooos around the various streets of the valley.
Even though we are outside of Oaxaca City, at night we can see the city lights below, just past a series of low rolling hills in the distance. These same rolling hills are the first to catch the rosy red sunrise light in the morning.
The morning is my favourite time as I can hear various people in their houses, cooking or sending their children off to school or work. These sounds start to fade as I make way down to a trail that winds its way thru the trees and back up to a long hill walk that takes me up above the villages and to a high plateau. Here is where I watch the suns progress as the light traces along the extensive valley below. From this vantage I can hear the village noise but can also tune it out and focus on the bird life around and above me. I am usually accompanied by a falcon, an aplomado I believe, and several vultures. Without my binos and a good bird book, I am at a loss as to many of the species but know that I have heard wrens, kiskadees, orioles, vermilion flycatchers, hummingbirds and many species of warblers, sparrows and flycatcher/phoebes. Rustlings in the tall ochre grasses are probably lizards of some sort and I flushed a rabbit out one morning and watched its brilliant white underparts flash in the morning light.
When the sun is strong enough to be hot, at about 8, I begin my wander back down to the studio and the sound scape slowly develops into a day. The quiet is over and the day has begun.
JM