Tag: Easter

Easter tamales

DURING EASTER week, people arrive in our mountaintop town from distant points, places you’d call the boonies.

Many camp in this plaza, which is named San Francisco, for much of the week, and they make tons of tamales. If you walk through here at night, it’s interesting with the fires and smoke.

My child bride and I walked along here today, and I shot this video. It’s not the best video in the world, I admit.

The Easter Bunny doesn’t hop up the mountaintop with colored eggs, but if you want tamales, we got ’em

Getting stoned

IF YOU’VE ever wondered what a cobblestone street in the making looks like, wonder no more. Behold!

For a few months now, major work has been under way on two streets radiating out from the southwest corner of our spectacular main plaza. It was supposed to be completed by Easter Week, but that’s not going to happen.

A major component of the labor is installing wider sidewalks. The sidewalk to the right side was about half as wide and, of course, that meant the street was wider.

Now the street will be narrower, a trade-off.

That sidewalk surface is just a concrete base now. Flat stone will be installed atop it. It will be quite snazzy.

The street itself won’t be smooth. Cobblestone streets never are, but newly installed ones are smoother than older ones.

Time takes its toll. After about a decade, driving on a cobblestone street goes something like this.

I’m not a fan of cobblestone streets. I prefer smooth concrete or, barring that, asphalt. But our town trades on tourism, and tourists like to see cobblestone streets.

They go nicely with our tile roofs of red clay.

The fact is that our mountaintop town improves yearly. And the same goes for our property values.

Faces of Easter

jesus
A very unhappy Jesus passes in a street of San Miguel.

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.

family
Everybody smile for the cameras, theirs and mine too.

Hula hoop girls

hula

SITTING ON the big plaza eating a cupcake I purchased from the bakery just back of the concrete bench where I was perched, I watched the hula hoop girls yesterday.

Girls just wanna have fun.

Purple banners are going up around the plaza in preparation for Semana Santa, Holy Week, which is a big deal around here, almost as big — or HUGE, as  Donald Trump would say –as Los Muertos, the Day of the Dead.

silencio

There are a number of religious processions downtown during Holy Week, and my favorite is the Procession of Silence, which passes by silently, as advertised. That’s it in the photo, another year, and, yes, they dress up like Klansmen.

But we’ll be missing that parade this year because part of next week will find us in the Gringo-infested town of San Miguel de Allende. I’ll be visiting the consular office to renew my U.S. passport, a passport I don’t anticipate ever needing again, but it’s a habit I cannot seem to break.

We’ll be staying downtown at the Hotel Quinta Loreto. It will be our first stay at that hotel.

While Friday will be spent renewing the passport, on Saturday we’ll be visiting with an old friend whom I’ve not seen in 15 years, the psychologist who stitched my heart back together after my last divorce in the mid-1990s.

He’s visiting San Miguel for only four days, his first trip there. He lives in Austin, Texas.

But that is next week. This week — today, actually — we’re having a birthday party at the Hacienda. Our nephew, the lad once known as the Little Vaquero — turns 13. It seems like only yesterday that he was brought home from the hospital with those huge ears that look quite normal now.

And there you have it: hula hoop girls, Holy Week, San Miguel de Allende and the birthday party.

It’s just one thing after another.