Monday, March 28, 2011

Fiesta de San Jose



6:00 am, Saturday morning...
KABOOM!!!  I'm rudely torn from a dream, and in a state of semi-consciousness can only think to say  "What the heck was that?!?!?"  KABOOM!!!  Again.  What the...?!?!  Did some giant piece of furniture just get knocked over?  Am I still dreaming?  With fog still clinging to my brain, I pause, confused, expecting to soon hear the screams of women and children.  Silence.  I slowly think that I might have had one or two too many glasses of wine the night before, and now I realize that it was only about four hours earlier that I went to bed, so I am seriously wanting more sleep.  KABOOM!!!  Another earth-shattering blast shakes the entire bed, rattles the windows, and knocks the few remaining cobwebs out of my reeling head.  I'm starting to swear in multiple languages.    Aw... crap!  These explosions are so close, almost exactly overhead, in fact, that this can only be one thing:  the local chapel is celebrating their namesake today, San José.  So, like many fiestas in Mexico, they begin by firing off a series of extremely loud fireworks and Roman candles at dawn in order to ward off any bad spirits.  The explosions are accompanied by a 10-piece "Oompah" band, or Banda.  This is sort of like a mariachi, but it includes a base section (big drum and a tuba), and their music resembles a European polka, and the horns are usually notably out of tune.  KABOOOOM!!!  Ouch.  This could be a long day...

Of course, we've heard this same thing many times while living in San Miguel, but this time it is literally in our backyard, and while I'm trying unsuccessfully to escape the noise beneath five pillows, Janan is now determined to get up and actually see what's happening.  So she pulls herself out of bed and groggily walks through the dark (but loud) street towards the chapel located about 40 yards away.

And from here, Janan takes over the narrative:  
Oddly, as I approach the chapel, no one else seems to be stirring at all. As I round the corner and enter through the large iron gateway, I'm greeted with a cloud of smoke (from the fireworks).  Inside the courtyard are 3 guys shooting them off, the band, and about fifteen or so others milling about.  It seems that the "ward off the dark spirit" committee is mostly the 20-somethings just having a great time.  The older and younger folks of the community were no where to be seen.  I'm sure they'll all be out for the actual party which will happen later today and go on late into the night.  At least now when we hear what sounds to be a massive party at 6am, we can stay in bed and just realize that it doesn't take too many people to make a lot of noise.

By late morning, the band is playing, an occasional firework explodes, and the smell of grilled meat begins to permeate the neighborhood.  We have plans to go for a hike with the kids, so we resolve to come back after putting them to bed.  Which we do, almost precisely 15 hours after the initial kick off or 6 AM fireworks, and the place is hopping, especially when the fireworks get started...



Besides the food, the band, the kids running around playing tag, the star of the night's activities is the lighting of the "castillo" - a "castle" of fireworks constructed by hand and mounted on a two to three story tall steel pole.  These fireworks are lit from below and, sort of like a Rube Goldberg machine, go off in intricately planned succession, causing wheels to spin and spit fire.  Everyone watches with amazement (the thing seems to go on forever...), and some even dive into the action by dancing beneath it amidst a cascade of sparks and fire...








The climax comes when the last and most spectacular part of the castillo is set off:  the last wheel at the top.  When this baby get's going, a torrent of sparks come shooting downward like a waterfall of fire, horrific high-pitch whistling pushes the limits of tolerance, and then the wheel begins spinning ever faster and faster, finally jetting upwards at an amazing speed, shooting out sparks the whole time, until it finally explodes in a big ball of red and blue and white somewhere around 400 feet above the crowd (where the pieces land, who knows...)







The applause breaks out then fades, the kids start playing tag again, the band strikes up another tune, and the fiesta continues late into the night.  We, however, don't stay too late and opt instead to head home to catch some much needed sleep.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Carneval in La Venta - Part 1




Carneval - that's the Latin American name of the pre-lent fiesta on or before "fat Tuesday", otherwise known as Shrove Tuesday, Mardi Gras, etc...  These very names conjure up images of parades, costumes, and unbridled fun, if not over-the-top bacchanalian riots.  It's no surprise these various traditions exist in Catholic countries, because these events are nothing more and nothing less than last-gasp parties in anticipation of the Church-imposed 40 days of repentance and self-denial prior to Easter.  "Carneval" or "Mardi Gras" traditions vary significantly from region to region (they're not all New Orleans & Rio style), and here in Mexico, they have a notably unique flavor.  I suspected there was going to be some serious fun to be had, but never could have anticipated the adventure to be that resulted from a casual discovery, by our buddy Sam Hillers, when he spied a flier on the wall of his favorite butcher shop advertising a weekend Carneval Feria (fair) and an accompanying bull fight in the little ranch town of La Venta, about 20km north of San Miguel. 


Four young guys just happened to stroll in as they do...  on horseback.
So with absolutely zero prior-knowledge and what can only be described as a thrilling sense of expectation (an almost too-common feature of our experiences in Mexico, as we just knew this was going to be great fun with plenty of surprises), we packed up our kids, Janan's parents (who were in for a visit), and drove out to this dusty little farming town to check it out. 



We arrived, a bit early, on our own (our friends hadn't gotten there yet), parked the car and walked on in amidst the typically curious but certainly non-threatening stares from the locals (they had to have thought we were just lost - what else could explain a grey-haired gringo with his fair-faced wife and kids stumbling upon this tiny town fiesta?).  All the better - we always know we're in the right place (and feel very comfortable) when you get the "stranger" glances.  Here in the Bajio of Mexico, this is not at all threatening, you get it just because they don't recognize you.  After a half hour, despite the fact that our Spanish is only marginally better than their German, we are welcomed as family, literally (as you'll see in Part 2).  THAT is what I love so much about Mexico...





One of the first stops, of course:  the beverage tent.  Al & Carol and Sam wasted no time...

Now, having been to a few "ferias" before, we are not really surprised nor amazed by some of the little details of a Mexican public party that you'd never, ever see up north, such as...



...the bizarre assortment of out-dated and probably dangerous rides for kids - things deemed unsafe in Europe and the states decades ago and thereby exported to Mexico.  And yet, these things are really, really fun for kids.  A favorite that seems to pop up at every fair is the two-story trampoline house, held together by rusting metal parts and chicken wire, which is listing and creaking with the bounce of each child...

Personal injury attorneys only wish we did this up north.  Fortunately for all of us, they don't exist down here.
Alya's having an absolute blast!
And Will too!

This super-sweet man was operating one of the rides, and seemed to be having as much fun as the kids...
A typical aspect of any semi-serious festival here in the Bajio is the seemingly mandatory appearance of the local drum and dance corps.   Decked out in "traditional" outfits, the participants keep up a steady beat and well-choreographed dance in the dry, dusty parade ground (usually a parking lot or plaza near the main church):


This isn't some sort of put-on nor goofy or playful farce, but as far as I can gather, this is a deeply felt, pride-based participation of primarily the youngsters of the community, continuing the timeless dance and rhythmic traditions of these small and ancient villages...


 



Here you have tradition and technology...
... and the future generation.  
These two handsome youth were happy to pose for me.  




This entire event was, if you remember, not a celebration of some local event or Saint or warrior, nor some regional religious festival, but this was "Carneval".  And that means a spontaneous dance party complete with masks and elaborate costumes.  Well, perhaps not completely spontaneous, since the Mariachi band arrived on time and was dressed to the nines (as Mariachis always do).  Regardless, once the music kicked in, the dancing began.  And this was no ordinary public dance...  This is Carneval!!!




I understood the whole Mardi Gras mask and costume thing, but I'd be lying if I said this part of the festivities didn't leave me bit baffled, only because it was so un-New Orleans or Rio style.  Instead, there was a bit more of the day-after-halloween costume store employee party type appearance.  I still don't know what to make of the outfits...


Shreck?  Judging from her hands, I'm guessing she's in her 70's...

And how about this guy?!?  We were all getting a kick out of him scaring the life out of the little kids in the crowd, and the parents enjoyed it too!  After all, in this kind of community, I'm certain everyone but us knew the identity of the man behind the mask, and the kids he was scaring were all nephews and nieces...






I have no idea what the heck is going on here....  Is it Halloween???
Throughout all the excitement of noise, smells, and eye-candy, it some times requires a bit of stepping-back to realize the significance of the fact that this boisterous and joyful gathering is a highly anticipated, once-a-year communal event put on with great effort and expense by a very simple, rural, and somewhat poor community.  But there is absolutely no lack of pride nor of style amongst the members of this community, as you can see...




You may have forgotten by this point (as we certainly did) that one of the key lures enticing us to join in this event 15 miles out of San Miguel was the promise of a bull fight.  In San Miguel, I've enjoyed a number of high-class, state-of-the-art, serious bull fights (that's not a joke).  So the idea of a bullfight in this community of a few hundred people with only one paved road had me curious, to say the least.  And with all the rickety rides, carny games, and sweet treats to keep the kids entertained for a few hours, there was a sufficient window of opportunity to sneak a peak at this rural man-beats-beast contest for an hour or two.  But alas, it was not to be....  Seems the bullfight was cancelled at the last minute for reasons we were never able to translate.  But, as always, the incredible resourcefulness of the Mexican people would prove to overcome this setback....


First....


We got a bull fight after all, thanks to the crazy, dancing "burrachos"....



Perhaps not as grand nor as serious as the real thing, but certainly more amusing!


Secondly...


... after Al and Ann Hillers bought a round of beers for the entire group of men hanging out at the beer tent, soon we found we could no longer pay for the beer - it was suddenly free.  Then, we got an invitation from one of the locals to dine with him and has family before we would venture off to the cock fights.  And there was absolutely no way to refuse his insistent hospitality.



But this is where I must leave off for Part Two of this adventure.  As can only happen in Mexico, just when one mind-numbing experience seems to be coming to a close, the next one is just beginning....

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Soccer Practice (and another "Only in Mexico" moment)

Nothing too out of the ordinary-sounding here, right?  Will joins a soccer team and we head out to the local sports center for an afternoon practice.  It begins with the typical warm ups: a bit of stretching...






... running some laps around the field ...



... and then, of course, a bit of scrimmaging:


Then, another one of those "only-in-Mexico" moments occurs.  My Spanish is rapidly improving, but clearly, I have a long way to go.  So when the coach approaches me and tells me he has to go open a gate on the other side of the field and asks if I could help get the kids off the field when the helicopter arrives, I was certain today was just another one of those bad days when my Spanish comprehension was hopeless.  So I scratch my head and begin to scan the skies anxiously.  Surely, a helicopter isn't going to land on a soccer field with a bunch of 8 and 9 year olds around, right?!?!

Wrong.




Seems some sort of dignitary, TV star, or drug dealer is heading home after a weekend visiting our quaint little town.  (By the way - that's a joke about the drug dealer.  It'll probably now end up as front page news in the US.  Don't believe everything you read, especially about Mexico.)


So I do as the coach asks and then, of course, scurry to capture the moment on film, knowing full well that this is one of those moments that will probably never happen again in my entire life (unless, of course, it happens again next soccer practice, which is entirely possible...)



The kids finish practice, shake hands...


And we all head our merry ways as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened.  Which I suppose is true.  And at least it gives me some faith that my Spanish comprehension isn't as bad as I thought...


Just another day in Mexico...

The San Miguel Rodeo!

Nothing like a Saturday afternoon rodeo!  Our friends John & Patty Holecek were in town visiting, so we grabbed our kids, hooked up with our friends Sam & Ann Hillers and their kids, and drove to the outskirts of town to the local Corral de Charros.  The "Charros" are the traditional, Mexican horseman known for their distinctive sombreros and elaborate, formal suits, generally complete with silk bow ties and delicate embroidery, as you can see here:






Seriously, these Charros know how to throw down some style!
The Charros are members of teams and they compete with others in a variety of events, displaying their skills in general horsemanship, roping cattle and horses (using the classic lasso technique), and there's even some old-fashioned bull riding.  Not sure how the bull riding fits in - it probably involves some sort of throw back to include the poor campesinos who couldn't afford a horse (and to provide amusement for those who could afford a horse).

In any event, the display of skill is quite impressive.  Photos, of course, can't capture the actual speed with which these men (and in some cases, boys) performed their various feats, but suffice it so say that I would have soiled my chaps if I'd have found myself in the saddle galloping in circles at such furious speeds.  





And unsurpisingly, like nearly all spectator events here in Mexico, the rodeo is an event for the whole family, complete with refreshments, fresh food of all sorts, and of course, a full Mariachi band in the stands!

When things get slow, just shout out "Musica, musica, muuusicaaaaa!!!!" and the band will play...


Fans come in all shapes and sizes.


John Holecek, Ann & Sam Hillers, fittin' in with the crowd & enjoying the show!

And no one minds in the least if a few of the kids get bored and start running around, playing games, or even break out a little "patty cake":





But if you enjoy this sort of thing at all, you'd likely not get bored - the events flowed rather quickly and there were so many different contests, such as the roping of cattle...

Roping some pretty quick calves...
... and some of the bigger ones, too....


... a little bit of bull-riding....

Everyone loves the comic aspect of this!
 ... and some serious displays of rope skills:



One event involved a Charro on foot having the responsibility of roping a galloping colt being driven at full speed around the outer wall by his mounted team members.  What you don't see in the photos is that once he gets the lasso going, he's got to keep it going and time it just right to snag both of the hind the legs of the speeding colt, and get it just right (and not to fear - the colts aren't injured).  This guy did it and was truly impressive:


 

Here it comes!
So this was just another of the seemingly endless events we've found ourselves enjoying down here in Mexico that display the incredible richness, beauty, and complexity of the culture.  For those of you brave enough (and wise enough) to ignore the outlandish media scares, there's an incredible experience around every corner just waiting for you!  A few more parting shots from the day:

Waiting his turn...
 I think this lad was running late...
Father and son?
Living large!