Yet More and More Pandemic....
It has now been almost 6 months without a fiesta. It is eerily quiet. No cojetes, no blaring Mariachi's at 1 or 2 or 3 AM. No kids at the school next to us kicking soccer balls in the pool or blaring techno music at dance parties. Yet slowly, slowly people are starting to emerge. This is a culture that is hard to subdue. The other night we went out with our friends Jon and Robert to Las Telares for dinner. We can do that because virtually all the restaurants here are outdoors or at least part of them are outdoors. When we left we walked towards the Malecon and on the corner was a Mariachi band with a most impressive female singer. There was a male singer too who was excellent. He was not a member of the band however but the fruit vendor we often buy from. You may be able to see his fruit cart that he abandoned to become part of the performance. A crowd gathered and looking around you could see the genuine pleasure on the faces of the people that a slice of normal Mexican life had returned to the streets. Michael will try to embed the video but you may have to settle for just pictures.
Like most of you, I think, our lives have settled into a routine which is pleasantly numbing except when you think you just MUST do something different. As noted in the last blog our remedy for terminal boredom is to visit haciendas. We check them out and then decide if we want to book a couple of days of R&R. Not that our lives under the pandemic are anything but R and R. So last week we set off with our friends Barbara and Allen. We were going to try for a twofer in that there were two haciendas within 10 minutes of each other. We learned that one was closed on Wednesday but we figured that it WAS a hacienda with horses etc. so there must be people around. We pulled up to the gate and sure enough it was locked. But there was an intercom. Barbara went up and buzzed and a man answered who spoke good English. Barbara explained that we knew they were closed but might we just take a quick look around because we'd like to come back and stay. He said, "We're closed." End of discussion. I only bring this up because it exemplifies the worst of Mexican marketing -- if one could even call it that. In this particular case: 1) I had called but the line was out of order; 2) I had emailed but gotten no reply; 3) In the middle of a co-vid pandemic you have 4 gringos at your gate who want to spend hundred of dollars at your hacienda and you say, "We're closed". In the U.S. we would have been all huffy and said "Well, hell will freeze over before we stay there." Here we say, "Yeah, we'll have to come back I guess."
So onward we went to the second hacienda -- Hacienda el Carmen. This is truly a beautiful and large hacienda located in the midst of cane, corn and agave fields. It was established in the 1600s and additions were made, as was common, into the 1800s. It is a little bigger than the Defranca which we visited and stayed at previously. The El Carmen has 29 suites or rooms all furnished in antiques, a pool, a spa, stables and a playing field for soccer or cricket (cricket?). We had a tour of the facilities along with six women who were clearly from Guadalajara. They were an interesting crew -- very intent on having their photos taken in front of every fountain, pool, event room etc. I felt like I was back in Japan. One of the interesting facets was that the hacienda had two aqueducts. The Spanish/Mexicans were very into aqueducts which they may have learned from the Romans who were REALLY into aqueducts. In any case, I believe the water for the aqueducts came from what we affectionately call "Snake Lake". And, because not much is happening to report on, I will give you the full story of Snake Lake.
The photos of the hacienda speak for themselves...enjoy!
When we were first visiting Guadalajara before even moving here we decided to go see the pyramids at Guachimontones. They are round pyramids which of course is a contradiction in terms but they are quite interesting and rather mysterious. They only recently have figured out exactly who built them and what their culture was like. Now they have an impressive museum and paved parking lot. When we went ten years ago it was a rutted dirt road, no explanations or signage and a Mexican guide propped up under a tree napping. I kind of liked the old way. In any case after viewing the pyramids and the ball court we decided to lunch at a restaurant on the shore of the nearby lake.
Of course, being gringos we showed up way too early but they were gracious and sat us at a table within 2 feet of the lake. We were speaking our ten years ago Spanish (virtually none) when they realized they needed to call in reinforcements. So they called this guy who had recently been deported from Chicago and he came in on his day off to minister to our needs. This was WAY beyond the call of duty and we felt quite obligated to them at this point. However, exactly at this point, the lake erupted in splashing and writhing and whatever just feet from our table. And there, for our viewing pleasure, were gazillion red and white (and maybe black-- I was too stunned to actually register colors) striped water snakes furiously mating. It was both frightening and disgusting since as you all know I detest snakes (phobia #2). We couldn't leave after they had just called in our newly deported waiter and even asking for a table far, far away from the lake seemed rather impolite. Michael provided good advice such as: "Just don't look...or listen", "pretend we are in the Alps with no snakes", "try to eat quickly". I did all three and somehow survived lunch. The thing about Mexico is no one is bothered by... well anything. It didn't seem that the waiters would think that we would find writhing, mating snakes out of the ordinary or upsetting during a dining experience. And, trying to meet their expectations, we attempted to act nonplussed. Michael more than me. Enough about Snake Lake. Don't ask us to take you.
Sorry To Be Dull
It is difficult to be adventurous, engaging or amusing during a long standing pandemic. It's not just us. All our friends complain except those who are engaged in worthwhile pursuits such as learning Basque or finally tackling quantum physics. The biggest complaint we all seem to have is that there is no definitive end to this thing so that we can plan what little is left of our life spans. I mean all those irresponsible college kids are out partying and enjoying super spreading but so what. They're sick for a couple of weeks (if they don't defy the odds and die) and they've still got sixty+ years left in them. They need to stay home, wear a mask and shut up so we, the elderly, can once more stride the earth without fear. Beyond college kids my ire extends to Mr. Trump, the entire Congress, Bill Barr (just because), Dr. Brix (probably a sellout) and all those random outlier cabinet members and doctors (not my dear, sweet Fauci) that Trump manages to draw to him like a magnet. OK. I feel better now. We will really try to come up with something for another blog but set your expectations low please. In the interim, stay safe, stay sane and hope for the best.
This period of time has forced us to slow down and given us the opportunity to observe more closely the natural world around us. An immature Cooper's Hawk spotted from our terrace, a caterpillar (name unknown), the first butterfly (name unknown - if any of you are amateur lepidopterists perhaps you can identify it), the second & third butterfly is the Zebra Heliconia and finally a walking stick insect.
