Oaxaca, or at least for the four days I spent there, seemed a dreamy parade of folkloric costume, no doubt the Spring Festival bought out these group assemblages of colour and embroidery, but I like to think the place is always like this.  I have a dim memory of going to the Showground in Randwick when I was five or six, and seeing something called Mexico Folklorico, and the place was packed with people eager to get a glimpse of another culture, a bring-it-to-you  practice that was a substitute for actual travel.