Greg got back from Atlanta yesterday, so after making kissy-faces we gorged on Indian food and California wine and cookies.

In other news ... another "Oaxaca's Great!" bubble burst, courtesy of my Spanish teacher, who says the throngs of campesinos protesting in the Llano, or in front of the governor's house, or in the zocalo aren't there demanding social justice. They're there because the Big Man in their pueblo paid them to stand around in order to increase his prestige and a chance at a lucrative government job. Crap.

And, how's this for Oaxaca-style comida corrida? Breaded cutlet with refried beans and spagetti with picante tomato salsa, and a bag of juice? Lovingly served out of the back of a hoopdy!