A March in April

After a fun-filled afternoon watching Barca beat Real, strolling the streets of Oaxaca, sipping delicious horchata (to which I'm now addicted), and buying souvenirs of hand made necklaces and skull-shaped candle holders - we finally came to rest at the beautiful Church of Santo Domingo.

The church is fronted by a beautiful square of colourful trees and landscaped aloe plants, and is a popular place to for Oaxacans to relax, people watching, napping, or kissing each other for all it's worth (it seems public smooching is compulsary in Mexico).

As we relaxed in the late afternoon sun, enjoying the aptly biblical looking clouds, a crowd began to gather and people in traditional costume started to appear.
When two papier mache giants and a brass band turned up as well, we knew something magical was on the cards.
The various different groups formed lines down the street, and as the band began to play, a full parade through the streets of Oaxaca was underway.

We followed the merry procession as it headed for the main square, letting off the loudest fireworks in human history as it went. At one point a rocket failed to venture skywards, sailing instead head-height into the side of the town's cathedral. It looked and sounded like a mortar attack, narrowly missed a woman and child, and reminded me of a certain Karl Pilkington's calamitous visit to Mexico.


From what I understand, the parade was to commemorate a style of traditional Mexican dress, known as the china dress. Legend has it the style is credited to a slave girl belonging to a noble Indian family.
After being kidnapped by Portugese pirates, she eventually found herself in Mexico, and the sari-style dress she was wearing was admired and copied, with a Mexican twist, into the beautiful dresses worn by many of the dancing women in the parade.