Get on The Bus

03/14/2025 - Teotitlan del Valle

Outside of Oaxaca city lies Teotitlan del Valle: an indigenous village where textile craftsmanship is still part of daily life. We decided to make a day trip out of it and visit. There were two options to get there: Taxi or bus. We opted for the bus because it was much cheaper and a more unique experience. When we got to the bus terminal, it became clear that we left the tourist zone. Isabella blends in pretty well, but me on the other hand… I stick out like a sore thumb. Especially in my stupid new hat. Humiliating. A bus came and I asked the driver if it was going to Teotitlan. He told me that it stopped near it and ushered us to get on. We did. As we sat down, and the bus pulled away from Oaxaca, the countryside filled the windows. At first it was a nice change of scenery. I had been in highly populated areas of Mexico this whole trip, now I was able to see a new side of the country. Then the fear set in. I was no longer in a highly populated tourist area. When there are other tourists around, there is a certain amount of comfort that comes with it. When you see an old German couple taking pictures and flipping through a tour book, you let your guard down quite a bit. When that safety net is gone, the unknown becomes almost unbearable. I could tell Isabella was also nervous. That only made things worse for me. I have a responsibility to protect my Angel. I tried to stay calm by reminding myself that we were on a main highway, at least it wasn’t a dirt road. I am told that a dirt road is the last place you want to be in Mexico. For thirty minutes we sat in silence as the vast landscape took hold. The bus stopped and the driver told us to get off. We did. There was nothing but the highway and a few people sitting in the shade. I asked them where Teotitlan was. They said across the street. A young man, no older than seventeen, stood by a car and smiled at us. I said “Teotitlan?” He said “yes.” We stared at each other awkwardly for a moment. I asked, “Are you driving?” “Yes.” There were two other local women in the front and back seats waiting. We squeezed in. This was called a collectivo. It’s a shared taxi that leaves when the seats fill up. We embarked, but he turned off the main highway and we started moving towards a dirt road. I started to prepare for any and all survival situations that might arise. Plumes of dust reared up behind the taxi as we barreled into the unknown. Eventually, after much fear and sweat, we reached the center of Teotitlan. When we got out of the cab, we turned the corner to see dozens of shops with beautiful handmade rugs hanging outside. The events that transpired proved to be culturally and spiritually significant for us. We spent the entire day in the village. I knew I was leaving with something. I bought more rugs than I can reasonably justify from a woman named Isabella. She and I had to walk a good distance away from her shop and up a hill next to ancient ruins so that her card reader could get a signal. She called it the magic spot. When it was time to make our way back, we hopped on a bus with a swagger. It wasn’t our first rodeo. There weren't any traditional bus stops. You just get off when you please. The bus barely stopped. The driver was very friendly and said he’d let us know when we should get off to get closer to where we are staying. We got back to Oaxaca and had our best meal yet. Today was certainly our most anxiety inducing, eye-opening, and adventurous day. All because we got on a bus. Get on The Bus.