No visit to a town is complete, in my opinion, without a visit to its mercado. Tepoztlán has a good one, entered through a gate adorned with a remarkable mosaic depicting Mexico's history, in the manner of so many muralists.

Instead of tiles or pieces of glass, this mural is made of seeds and beans. The detail shows an Aztec ball player.

As in almost every mercado, the bulk of the place contains food vendors.

The old man with his back to the camera had food on his mind. He asked the woman on the right for some. He comes here every day for a handout of tortillas and whatever else vendors are willing to give him. Nobody goes hungry in Mexico, they say.

This woman sells grilled chicken. You can see the flames from her grill just below the edge of the table. She flings the carcasses around with abandon—a real eye-catcher.

Toña's Carniceria specializes in pork. Ropes of yummy-looking chorizo hang on the right; not-so-yummy-looking pigs' heads hang on the left. I love the mascot on the sign: a smiling pig holding the severed head of one of his brothers, a knife in his right hand.

Gross-out time. Loops of small intestine hang on the left. I find them tasty when boiled in lard. Tasty, that is, if you don't think about them too much. On the right, we have what seems to be the trachea and lungs of a larger animal, perhaps a steer. I don't know if these are tasty or not. Between the two there's a black, organ-like thing hanging. From its appearance, I can't imagine it would be tasty.

Room-temperature meat display somehow doesn't make me as nervous as it might in California. Maybe that's because meat usually goes from slaughter to stomach in a single day in Mexico. No plastic wrapped cuts fermenting in pink liquid in some cold case, their pull dates ominously near.

Many of the food stalls serve meals to be eaten right in the mercado. Tacos, huaraches, gorditos, I found everything to be delicious. In many ways the food served here is every bit as good if not better than that served in regular restaurants.

This plastic colander is filled with flor de calabeza—squash blossoms. One of my favorite meals is quesadillas de flor de calabeza: squash blossoms cooked with chopped onions and seasonings, then spooned into a flour tortilla filled with melted Manchego cheese. Usually two is all I can manage, but I always wish I had room for another.

A large number of non-food items is sold in the mercado. Here a young patron evaluates a potential purchase—a handbag.

Embroidered huipiles (I think this is a huipil) add color to the scene.

I wanted to buy a large turned wooden salad bowl from this vendor of handmade wood items, but somehow I was never at his place just before I was planning to return to my hotel, up a few steep blocks from the mercado. I didn't want to lug bulky items around with me.

I don't have the temperament to sit in a stall or a store all day and sell stuff. I wonder how people manage to do it. Clearly the vegetable lady and the ice cream man find the whole thing tedious, napping as they are between customers.

Other activities kept me from giving Tepoztlán as much attention as I wanted to, so I'll be back, if only for a workshop or retreat. There's a lot to do packed into this small town. Well equipped to serve visitors. a surprisingly large number of them on weekends, it still manages to retain the character of a working Mexican town and has a strong indigene presence.