Reflections on COVID in Oaxaca, from quarantine in London
In February 2020 I arrived to Mexico for what has become an annual exploration of rural communities that produce agave spirits. Thanks to COVID-19 what was planned as a 4-week trip ended up taking nearly half of 2020. I’m now back in London and putting down some thoughts on the experience from my returning traveller 14-day quarantine.
A big part of this year’s journey was around the state of Jalisco, joining a tour of raicilla producers with the brand La Venenosa - something a mini-bus load of industry colleagues had also flown over for, from various parts of Europe as well as Mexico. My plan was to spend a few days in Mexico City; about a week in Oaxaca; then fly to Guadalajara and spend 10 days with the mini-bus crew in Jalisco; then back to Oaxaca for a couple of days to pick up the rest of my luggage before flying via Mexico City to Guatemala City for a weekend wedding in Antigua; then back to Mexico for a late-March return to London.
The ten days in Jalisco were March 12-21. Somewhere in the middle of that it became clear this virus we had heard about was going global, and Europe had become the epicentre. It was all over the news and the last couple of producers we were scheduled to visit actually called to cancel – for some reason they had become momentarily less keen to host a bunch of Europeans.
Airlines were starting to cancel flights, the US was banning entry and possibly even transit for Europeans, and the UK was advising all its citizens to get home asap, as well as going into a nationwide lockdown on March 23rd.
So the rest of my trip wasn’t going to happen as planned. The wedding was definitely off as Guatemala had completely closed its borders. Everyone in my Jalisco group checked on their travel routes and some made the call to adjust their schedule and return to Europe asap. I brought my return from Guadalajara to Oaxaca forward by a couple of days, and sure enough by the time I got to Oaxaca I found my return flight from Mexico City to London had been cancelled.
I was given the choice from my airline to either swap my ticket for a flight leaving almost immediately, or to leave it open for re-booking some time in the future. The route was obviously going to be grounded for a while. So my choice was either to rush home to a London lockdown, or stick it out in Mexico. I decided to stay.
While I can completely understand the opposite decision of others, for my personal situation it just didn’t seem to make sense to rush home. Oaxaca has kind of become a second home over the last few years anyway. I have lots of friends and emergency contacts around, I had more than 5 months left on my tourist visa, and we were also being advised against all but essential travel. If the whole world was going to be staying home and ordering food deliveries for a while I could do that in Oaxaca just as well as London.
Moreover, I lost trust in the current UK government long ago and things were not looking good at home. Under Boris Johnson’s leadership, although maddening, it’s unfortunately not totally surprising that the UK currently has the highest death rate in Europe (despite plenty of warning from Italy and Spain about what was coming!). That’s not to say I have more faith in the Mexican government, but communities in Mexico (especially the predominantly indigenous ones in Oaxaca that have at times been ignored or worse by federal government) tend to take matters into their own hands rather than wait to be given instruction from an already distrusted leadership. That difference in attitude and way of life is something that’s always grabbed me about Mexico.
The UK is a place where it’s generally accepted that whatever the government tells you to do is for the best and will keep you safe. The strength of our institutions generally insures the biggest gang of the day (the government) can’t do too much harm even if they try. In Mexico, land of narco cartels, the government arguably isn’t even the most powerful gang of the day, and people often feel far from protected by it.
I was going to write a lot more about communities taking matters into their own hands by blocking roads in and out, etc, but then I spotted this article by The Conversation, which does a good job of explaining things. The only thing I would add as a note of caution is that it’s yet to be proven whether this kind of local community isolation has simply delayed the inevitable. Studying this official map of cases by municipality you can see that COVID-19 is only just starting to get going in some popular mezcal producing villages around Oaxaca City, but by now the countries hospitals are already full.
I actually found I had a fairly strong urge to act in a contrarian way to what seemed to be expected from the global system. I found the general regression to nationalism and closing of borders (and particularly the drooled advice from UK foreign secretary Dominic Raab) to be pretty repulsive. Ever since nations advised their citizens to return home we’ve been subjected to a running tally of death rates in each - sort of like a sad substitute for the 2020 Olympics that never happened. I received constant updates from friends and relatives at home (they meant well) about how Mexico was hot on the heels of the UK and sure to overtake us soon. And of course, as usual, the USA is out in front. But this year it’s not a medal count; it’s a body count.
All this on top of the significant logistical challenges of keeping this business operational during the pandemic has been fairly stressful at times. But I’m glad I stayed. Thanks to the help of family and friends we managed to keep stock rolling out seamlessly for the new subscription club (Mezcal Appreciation Society). Living in Oaxaca I’ve been part of helping communities that are continuing through all this without the significant (if unequal and flawed) government support for people and businesses in the UK. A significant part of The Sin Gusano Project is our ‘giving back’ programme, so it wouldn’t have felt right to ditch it all for home as soon as a government minister blew a whistle. This is what I do, and I do it because I care about it. I wasn’t in Mexico on holiday from a salaried job in the UK, I was there trying to further what I see as the worthy causes of The Sin Gusano Project. And it’s just as important now as it was before, maybe even more so.
So it wasn’t the mezcal exploration extravaganza I might have liked a 6-month trip to be. Most of the time was spent at home, being very careful to minimise contact as much as possible, especially with rural mezcal communities full of relatively vulnerable people. But being in Oaxaca I managed to find ways to channel some funds to places that needed it more than ever while the tourist industry had completely dried up. It’s particularly saddening to walk into town and see almost every market stall closed, some setting up out of desperation but presumably selling almost nothing. Our Oaxaca Facemask initiative provides small help to the community of San Mateo del Mar, which was seriously struggling in the wake of a horrific incident of local violence (a starkly negative example of communities taking matters in their on hands you might argue) as well as previous earthquakes (incidentally, on June 23rd I experienced my first major earthquake. 7.4 on the scale and really very scary… you don’t sleep well for a long time after).
I bought batches of mezcal from producers that Sin Gusano has previously cultivated relationships with, some of which have found things a lot harder since some export routes and all local tourism dried up. If you came to the 2018 Sin Gusano Mezcaleria in Haggerston you may remember our house pour at the time was an ensemble of 6 magueys produced by Fortunato Hernandez and his wife Victoria in the central Oaxacan valley village of San Balthazar Chichicapam. In 2018 Fortunato was using the local cooperative distillation equipment. He’s now finally building his own palenque and a batch of Barril Sin Gusano bought (which is on the way for Mezcal Appreciation Society members in the months ahead) paid for the roof to go on during lockdown.
I also got to watch the seasons change while the world slowed down. I’m normally in Mexico during the UK winter when Oaxaca is particularly dry, but sticking it out through the rainy season brings an entirely different feel to the place - everything is green and lush. I got to continue improving my Spanish (slowly as ever!). And I’ve generally been surrounded by good people who have been looking out for their community, doing things like delivering free tortas (Mexican sandwiches) to those in desperate need (remember there’s no furlough scheme in Mexico paying people while they can’t work).
Overall I’ve felt privileged to be safe (well you know, apart from the deadly infection and the earthquake), and to be part of the community in Oaxaca throughout the whole experience – as I normally do when I visit. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t want my decision to stay in Mexico to be seen as sticking two fingers up to the UK. I know my passport makes me extremely privileged and relatively protected, and if I didn’t have the rights I was handed by accident of birth I would never have been allowed into Mexico in the first place.
I’m no nationalist, but I am proud of to be British for plenty of things. Things like the spread of democracy and protection of human rights, the conception of a welfare state and national health service, global diplomacy and international aid projects, and our culture of music and arts. Unfortunately that just makes it all the more saddening that the biggest gang at the moment have seemed intent on reversing or destroying all those things, while at the same time relentlessly lying about almost everything.
Per capita, more citizens of the UK have died from COVID-19 than almost any other country. That’s despite having a clear heads-up of what was on the way from countries infected first, and having more money than almost any other country to take necessary measures. Clearly there have been some enormous failings by the gang in charge. But to me it also has worrying implications about a country full of communities that have forgotten how to look out for each other, having been blindly following at least reasonably effective national leadership for a generation. But since the Brexit referendum 4 years ago, there has been little to no effective national leadership. A lot of people have just stopped listening to politicians, and those who are still listening know that an incompetent government is lying to them. But nobody knows what to do about it, or how to look out for themselves and their community when the government fails to.
Since my return to the UK I’ve seen barely anyone wearing a facemask, for example. Government advice on the topic has been confusing to say the least. But when did confusing advice become an excuse for being a danger to your community? In Oaxaca it’s highly unusual to see anyone without a facemask, even on the street. That’s not because they totally trust their governments advice, it’s because there’s at least a chance that it means they won’t accidentally kill the old lady on the bus.
These are unprecedented times. The world is plunging into the worst recession since the Second World War, the UK still actually has to Brexit, (and that may still cause plenty of issues for the rest of Europe), the US might be about to re-elect Donald Trump, and of course COVID isn’t nearly done with yet. Surely we all need to reflect on what’s important, and help to strengthen our communities that will support us as those supposedly in charge come and go. Slow down and watch the season’s change, support artists, sip on artisan agave spirits.
All said and done with my UK critique, I’m looking forward to emerging into my local community again in a few days time. I hope I’ll find some positive things happening and new ideas growing out of the devastation.
Much love.
Jon – Sin Gusano Founder