WE SPENT two nights in San Miguel de Allende that, by pure chance, sat in Semana Santa, Easter Week.
We drove there to visit an old friend who had flown down from Texas with a couple who had invited him to share a few days in a vacation rental in the Gringo-infested town.
The old friend and I had planned this get-together months ago, neither realizing it was Semana Santa. It just dawned on me about two weeks ago.
Semana Santa, to Mexicans, is Spring Break with Jesus Christ. We have a multitude of religious ceremonies and Easter parades here on the mountaintop and tons of tourists, but I figured it would be calmer in San Miguel.
I could not have been more mistaken.
It was almost like Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Downtown was mobbed with people. Lines waited outside restaurants.
Streets were blocked.
We arrived Thursday for two nights and one full day — Good Friday — in a downtown hotel, and we left yesterday.
We had a great visit with the friend, and we came away with these two faces — photos — of Semana Santa.
A third photo shows another face, a sad one, a man who passed on the street in the best way he could. Every few feet he would stop, squat upright on the street, and jiggle his coin can.
What struck me most about him, apart from his disability, was that his hair was trimmed and slicked back very neatly.
Everyone has pride.