Headed South: Try to Remember....Try

It has only been a little more than two weeks since we last published the blog but I sit before the computer unable to remember where we left off. Part of the problem is that it took me two weeks from the end of the road trip to publish the blog on the trip. In the intervening two weeks, a tremendous amount occurred which I failed to document and now, as senility sets in, I seem to have lost the beginning of February. I will try my best.

We arrived back in town and one day later, Ginny and Gary arrived. And the day after that, Betsy and Fred arrived. With the New England contingent in town, the party began in earnest. Both couples were "returnees" so it was time to ratchet up the activities to provide new glimpses into village life. Gary and Ginny rented our old casita (at the house with the mirror over the bed) for the month and were treated to experiencing life in the '80s complete with decaying infrastructure. Climbing in windows when doors wouldn't unlock, the sudden delight of no hot water... Well, they've survived with the help of Margaritas, Becky and a sense of humor, and many of the photos in this blog are theirs. We sheltered Bets and Fred in our new casita for their 10 day sojourn.

Next to September, which seems to hold more Holidays than there are actual days in the month, the period from February through Easter is about the most frenetic period here. Christmas doesn't officially wrap until Candlemas on February 2nd and then it's one deep breath and you are into the Carnaval, Lent, Samana Santa (Easter) trajectory. This is coupled with the fact that it is "high season" when all the snowbirds arrive and every charity known to man throws shindigs to extract money (for good causes, of course) from the deep pocketed of the North.

First up on the agenda was the Art Walk Open Studios Tour which featured artists of all variants splayed out amidst about fifty houses, B&Bs and stores. It was great. Walk, see art, eat, see art, drink, see art, buy art, eat... you get the picture. When you consider the number of venues, with multiple artists per venue, you begin to get an idea of the number of artists that live in Ajijic. Very cool.

And, as you may remember, those frisky Sayacas have started their weekly parades throughout town every Sunday until Fat Tuesday. (See blog from a year ago as to the derivation of the sayacas). As I write this (February 28th) they are gearing up for the last, most massive flour assault which will occur on Fat Tuesday. While unruly, the sayacas have a very strict code on pelting people. Boys under 18 are inundated with flour, girls under 18 are sprinkled, gringos get flour and confetti (still getting it out of our sheets) and older Mexicans are left alone. Rules count.

The sayacas dance to the music from the band.

One of the sayacas tries to dress to impress. Photo courtesy of Ginny Fox.

There is also an "old man" sayaca. Photo courtesy of Ginny Fox.

The bags and purses carry the flour to be thrown at the spectators.

Note the bare midriff sported by the sayaca in the middle background.

The charros follow the sayacas and the band. Photo courtesy of Ginny Fox.

From there on everything gets a little muddled as to sequence so I'll just hit on different events, throw in the pictures and be done with it. Organization and precision are overrated. We did a zillion things with Betsy and Fred and then they left. And then another Boston friend, Mary, arrived. And then it was the Chili Cookoff. This is Lakeside's largest fundraiser with the proceeds going to seven very worthwhile charities and it is lots of fun. Well attended, well lubricated with tequila and featuring chili cook offs, salsa cook offs and margarita brew offs. When you enter you pay a fee ($20 pesos -- less than $2 USD) and receive a glossy brochure which lists all the events by hour and day. None of them occur when they say they will. Some occur twice. Some not at all. Indigenous people dangle from poles, horses dance, girls dance, charros pose, people seek shade and buy seed pod earrings they don't need. It's great.

Two adorable senoritas at the Chili Cookoff. Photo courtesy of Ginny Fox.

Entertainment at the Chili Cookoff. Photo courtesy of Ginny Fox.

A dance with a horse & pretty senorita. Photo courtesy of Ginny Fox.

How did HE end up at the Chili Cookoff? Photo courtesy of Ginny Fox.

You are never too young to become a charro. Photo courtesy of Ginny Fox.

A group of indigenous people from Vera Cruz came to demonstrate the art of "pole flying".

Los Voladores de Papantla involves five men on a platform. The man in the middle balances on the small platform & turns around as he plays the flute & beats on a drum.

The four men have a rope tied around their waist, which is wound around the pole as they fall back...

and begin to rotate upside down around the pole.

As they rotate the rope unwinds until they reach the ground.

Deirdre with our friend Mary taking a break at the Chili Cookoff.

Ribs were the order of the day at this food stand to support the Lakeside School for the Deaf.

People gather to eat, drink and watch the entertainment on the stage.

This charro has not one, but two cell phones attached to his belt on the right.

The charro tradition includes women in colorful dresses.

Expertise with the lariat is also part of the charro culture.

The Pelicans are back in town. They are here from about November to March. They are not the ones Americans think of. They are huge white birds with black tips on their wings. They fly in flocks, fish in flocks, hang out in flocks and pester the fishermen in flocks. Very social. They don't dive for fish either. They form a circle, close in on them and bam! Interesting to watch. We devoted some time to admiring them while watching human life swirl around us on the malecon in Chapala.

(Photo courtesy of Ginny Fox.) More white pelicans are flocking to Chapala this year...

as some of the fishermen feed them fish scraps.

It was then time for a field trip. We packed up the Subaru and headed for Guachimontones. Yes, more pyramids but at least you don't have to climb them. And they are round which is both a contradiction in terms and interesting. They only found these like 30 years ago and they are still trying to piece together exactly who these folks were that inhabited them but they are getting there. We visited first about six years ago on our first trip to Guadalajara and they knew almost nothing then. Now there's a museum, video, paved parking. No more Indiana Jones feel but a lot more info. After trouncing around we decided that it was time, of course, to eat and drink.

The round pyramids of Guachimontones. Photo courtesy of Ginny Fox.

I had planned a lovely, elegant luncheon to be dallied over at the Hacienda del Carmen. I mean, really, everyone has to experience a Hacienda. And this one grows all it's own food, dates from 1580 something and is posh as hell. Of course it didn't work. We pulled up and there was a wedding, or some other equally boring event, consuming the entire hacienda. Overcome with disappointment, I turned to the others and said: "Damn. I guess this means we have to go to the snake restaurant." I probably could have positioned it better but I was reeling with remorse over not having checked out the hacienda situation in advance of the trip. "Snakes?" they said in unison. Well, on our first trip we had stopped at this lakeside restaurant which was wonderful and scenic and we had sat directly lakeside. Unfortunately, it must have been the water snake mating season or something because as I gazed serenely across the water I saw MULTIPLE (it would be debated how many) red/white/black snakes roiling the water (Phobias #5 -- snakes-- and #6 --possibility of being in water with icky things). Michael assured our guests that this was just one of my overblown, fear-laced remembrances and that it was nothing like that. Ha! Well, actually we didn't see any snakes this time. But I could make Ginny jump by just looking over her shoulder (next to the water) and doing a sharp breath intake. That was kind of fun. It was beautiful and the food was good.

The lake without any snakes (this time).

The white pelicans like this lake as well.

Despite our two (almost) years here, we are still neophytes about street food. I mean we eat it sometimes, but we don't really know what we are doing or eating (sometimes a good thing). Mostly it is delicious, cheap and we've never gotten sick but, come on, you can't live in ignorance forever. So... using Ginny and Gary as cover for our woeful lack of street food knowledge, we enticed Luzma to conduct a street food tour for us. We figured just Ajijic. But no. According to Luzma, street food central is to be found in Jocotopec (up the road a piece). And no, not at dinner or lunch. At 10 in the morning the best street food is to be found. See how ignorant we were. Jeez. I was forced to stay home (sob!) to wait for the tree men to rectify the situation of this one big tree throwing everything in it's arsenal (leaves, flowers, buds and these hideous little bulbous things) into our pool. They never showed. GRRR. But enough about me. So they set off to forage and forage they did. Tacos al vapor, fried pork, birreria (goat) and grilled tongue and cheek. Come on, you know it sounds good. When people rebelled against pork fried in pork lard as potentially lethal, it was explained that because it is PORK and it is FRIED in PORK it is fine -- if not wildly healthy. Since it was delicious, everyone accepted this explanation without quibbling. And they SWEAR the tongue and cheek were excellent. I'll try it...someday.

The first street food stop was for tacos al vapor (steamed tacos).

Adding shredded cabbage to our tacos al vapor.

Gary, Michael & Luzma examining the stainless steel container in which the pork is cooked in its fat.

The pork & pork skin cooking in its fat.

Your choice of condiments to add to your tacos with the pork & pork skin.

A satisfied customer.

Luzma, Michael & Gary ordering tacos with tongue & cheek. (All of the above photos courtesy of Ginny Fox.)

And then it was time for the kick off to Carnaval in Chapala. Faithful readers may remember the Parade which culminates in the burning of the Coffin of Ill Humor. Nobody knows what the coffin is about. We keep asking. I've gone so far as to Google it-- to no avail. And you can Google ANYTHING. No Wikipedia. If you know, please, please tell us. Anyway, it's there every year. They just stick it on a sidewalk, douse it with accelerant, torch it and let the small children and dogs play around it as embers drift into the trees in the midst of dry season. Of course, nothing bad happens. As Americans, we are obsessed about all the bad things that are bound to happen due to negligence, poor protocols, lack of regulations, indifference. The longer we spend here, without dire consequences ensuing from the general lackadaisical attitude of the populace, the more we realize that perhaps we have been just a little too tightly wound in our past life. Another digression. Well, it was all there. The food stalls, the half naked dancers, the giant Brahma bull, the federales in full battle dress. This year they had metal detectors but the sensors were set so high that only the baby strollers set them off. You never know about those babies. Now, having said that we worry too much, I must say that the Ferris Wheel honestly justified concern. It was big and it appeared to have been calibrated at the speed setting that would have been appropriate for, say, a roller coaster. You don't usually hear people scream on a Ferris Wheel. But, once again, nothing bad happened.

Who knew robots were part of Carnaval.

Shaking your booty is always part of Carnaval.

Getting your picture taken with a Brahma bull is part of Carnaval here.

The coffin of ill humor is subsumed by flames.

The stilt walkers sit down to take a load off.

Kids rides are also a major part of Carnaval here. (All of the above photos courtesy of Ginny Fox.)

Well, that's about it. There was more, much more, but I think we've run out of juice for now. There may be some photos that don't match with any text but, hey, you're imaginative. Just make up you own story about them. Mary is back in Boston and Ginny and Gary head out tomorrow. Come Wednesday our son Alex arrives for a weeks respite from the howling north winds and snow and, soon after, my Boston Spanish class pal Maggie and her husband drop in. Much fun so far and more to come. Take care. Stay warm. It's got to be almost over.......