Me llamo Fonda. Fonda Portales.

I teach a class on Precolumbian art for Boise State University, and so I am traveling this May to see some of the sites that I teach, take copious notes of personal experiences that cannot be learned in academic journals, and beef up my slide collection for my students.  Monte Alban, a Zapotecan site in Oaxaca, has been at the top of my list for a very long time.  It exceeded my expectations--the conquest glyphs, the defeated rulers with genital mutilations, the soaring view of the valley from the Southern Platform, the seemingly endless array of courtyards on the Northern Platform.  But my favorite part of the day was meeting a vendor at the site.

Miliano is an 80-year old man selling small earthen sculptures to tourists at Monte Alban.  I think he said he has been doing this for 30 years now. He sat strategically between the ballcourt (one of my favorites thus far) and the entrance to the wider plaza.  He charmed me, of course, and so I bought a little acrobatic pelota (ball) player from him. Then  he told me a story, a long story, about plants and planets and the invention of books and the moon and the moon goddess. At least I think so; I can’t be sure.  But he was good for my soul.   

He asked me my name, and when I said “Fonda,” he laughed because fonda means a “modest restaurant” in Mexico.  “Modest” is a polite way of saying cheap.  My name means a cheap eating hole in Latin American Spanish.  So I laughed with him, and said, “Es verdad. No chiste! Me llamo Fonda. Fonda Portales.” Which also made him laugh because portales means many gateways or doors.  So I am the cheap eatery with many entrances.  Or the gateway to some really cheap food.

Miliano also asked me how old I was, and when I said I am 40 years old, he said “Joven, joven…”  When he told me that he is 80 years old, I returned the favor, and we both had a good laugh.  So we took this picture, me half his age, and he twice mine.

Speaking of restaurants in my name, in Taxco, the famous (and some mean infamous) silver mining city in Guerrero, I got a little lost looking for my museum of Precolumbian artifacts.  The Tourist Policeman said it was behind the church and to the right.  A very long story short, I went to the wrong church (way down the hill) and took the wrong right. Eventually, I made it back up the hill, saw this restaurant, and knew it was the perfect place to rest and find my bearings. And because synchronicity is always my traveling companion, the museum was right next door (in fact, behind the church and to the right). Tonalli is a Nahuatl word (the language of the Aztecs and some indigenous peoples today)  signifying someone's essence.  Tonalli is not my given name, but it was called to me by a very special person, some would say a shaman of sorts, who once saw something in me that I could not at the time--soulfulness.  I have fully claimed the nombre linda (beautiful name) for my own now.

And something just for fun...

Mira, Mira. (Look here, Look here.) To the left, we can see how Mexicans dress in Mexico in the month of May. To the right, we can see how tourists dress in Mexico in the month of May.  Muy differente!