On June 23, 2020, a magnitude 7.4 earthquake struck off the coast of the southern Mexican state of Oaxaca, not far from the coastal town of Zipolite where I had taken up accidental residence at the start of the pandemic in March. I had just sat down to work when the room began to shudder violently as though on the verge of self-combustion, and I dashed out the front door of my house to find the power lines sparking all over the place in a world that was suddenly frighteningly precarious.
Adding to the apocalyptic feel was the vehicle that then came flying by with passengers hanging out the windows, shouting at bystanders to run for the hills or else be killed by an alleged incoming tsunami. This was no doubt a fitting end, I told myself, to my stay in Zipolite – a place whose very name, so it is said, means “playa de la muerte”, or “beach of death”, in the Zapotec language.
There were various theories as to the origins of the name, the most obvious being that this was a lethal stretch of sea, where waves and riptides had caused the demise of countless bathers over the years. Some observers also contended that regional Indigenous populations had viewed Zipolite – positioned as it is at the southernmost point of Oaxaca – as an underworld of sorts. READ MORE AT AL JAZEERA ENGLISH.