Words by Maya Poon Date 10 March 2025

From city to coast, culture to nature, Oaxaca is the place I feel most at home. Perhaps for a black sheep like me, an explorer of many loves, it makes sense that this place makes me feel understood.

Known as the indigenous heart of Mexico, Oaxaca is the native home to over 19 ethnic groups and 176 indigenous dialects. Each language carries its own world; customs, traditions, stories. 

As we follow the trail of dots on the Mexican map connected by Grupo Habita, we arrive in Oaxaca, landing in Centro, the historical heart of the state: less of a city, more of a small town tucked in infinite valleys. Once you enter, there is a profound sensation of abundance wherever you look. Abundance in the sense of diversity and aliveness. The streets are an endless display of culture and traditions. Art is seen and felt on every corner. Food is still cooked in the ancestral way—through a wood fired comal, a large handcrafted ceramic plate that gently toast the ingredients without oil or butter. All handcrafted by hands, composed of natural materials, and inspired by nature.

Mornings are slow and sweet, and evenings are rhythmic and ever flowing. When staying at Otro Oaxaca, located directly across the Santo Domingo Church, simply sit on the roof terrace and surrender to the endless colorful beauty passing by at every moment of the day. Oaxaca calls you to stay present and curious. If you plan your trip to the dot, you might just miss out on something magic. For me, it is often the grandmother selling textiles from her mountain town at the corner of any streets, the conversation you will strike with a native oaxaqueño while having a memela, or the length of the flower stalks at the local mercado. Oaxaca is a town that cares for her people, a generous, yet political place that often has riots and protests, and that is also a sign of care. Come with a humble heart and open mind, you will be rewarded with magic.

It is only when you leave town, that you will find how expansive the beauty of Oaxaca is. Every village is dedicated to a different craft. There is the village of red clay, the one of black clay, and one of green clay. There is a village for beeswax candles and natural dye textiles made with insects and flowers. There is one far out in the mountains, floating above the clouds, where they’ve farmed silk without killing the larvae since the year 1523. Each municipality carries a different way of weaving, a different way of embroidering, a different way of honoring the world. It is then that you understand that art is not simply a product, or a skill—art is life. Craft is life. It seeps into your everything when you live with authenticity. The little pueblos (towns) of Oaxaca will make your soul remember all the beautiful things you can create using only your bare hands and nature’s elements.

As we drive to the coast, we cross mountains where soil is as diverse as the culture—pink, green, golden. Oaxaca, the most biodiverse state of Mexico, is home to over 8400 plant species and 738 species of birds. As you see the deep blue glimmer across the valleys, you know you have arrived to the Pacific Coast. Two and a half hours from city to coast, culture to nature; the humidity rises up, horses troll the streets, cumbia plays at every fruit stand, and your body starts to dance.

Someone once asked me—if I love nature so much, how do I feel about hotels being built on peaceful beaches? The question was righteous. As I reflected on it, I realized I feel that hotels located in wild nature should help guests heal their relationship with our first habitat, nature. Hotels have a duty to create spaces that spark this flame of interconnectivity. 

As I arrive to Hotel Escondido, an unassuming yet carefully designed hotel with little neighbors and no noise on a very secluded beach, I found the answer to her question. The hotel allowed me for this reflection—this connection to nature, where each bungalow has a carefully crafted path of bushes directing you to the open beach, where I was able to gaze at the sun, the ocean, and the light in my own privacy with no distraction. I wasn’t only “in the hotel”, I was in nature’s home. The bed, the door, the walls are made of local wood, the roof is a palapa carefully woven from banana leaves. Every element added to my gratitude of how abundant nature is.

And it is then, that I understood, I will always feel most at home in Oaxaca.