Virgin! Calm Yourself!

Be Careful What You Wish For

Just like everybody else at Lake Chapala, Michael and I were fervently hoping for a robust rainy season.  Of course, most central to the success of any rainy season, is the Virgin of Zopopan.  She comes to town each summer and is escorted around the Lake and is in charge of making sure that the Lake prospers -- or at least doesn't dry up.  Well, I may have been a doubting Thomas before-- but HOLD ON!  Somebody needs to rein this Virgin in!  Things (like rain) are getting out of hand and she is only due to arrive in town tomorrow (photos to follow).

The arrival of the Virgen de Zapopan is accompanied by a flyover by an ultralight plane...

along with the usual cojotes,  which seem to be aimed at the ultralight.

However the ultralight flies through the smoke of the cojotes, ...

while this plane, participating in the flyover for the Virgen, dodges the birds stirred up by the cojotes.

We missed the parade this year (see pictures from last year's blog), but still captured some of the participants.

This one looks sad, perhaps due to sore feet from marching in the parade.  Deirdre:   Different, more sinister take.  Check out woman on left staring daggers at sad/mad woman.  Man looks a little fraught too.... hmmm.

While others look happier...

now that they can rehydrate with a giant drink.

A large poster welcomes the Virgin of Zapopan, with the fifth anniversary of the celebration of Mass with her arrival.

Due to the large number of people who show up to greet the Virgin, the mass is held in front of the church.

Men dressed as Spanish conquistadors guard the Virgen of Zapopan.

The Virgen of Zapopan (or at least the traveling version) is on display for all to see.

This will give you an idea of the size of the Virgin as she is flanked by her Spanish conquistador guards.

The arrival of the Virgen de Zapopan is such a big event that the Archbishop of Guadalajara comes to Chapala to celebrate the Mass.

The faithful have booklets with the songs and responses for this special Mass to welcome the Virgin.

Because the Mass is outside, many participants wisely bring umbrellas to provide shade (some of which are quite whimsical & colorful).

Each year many flowers are used to decorate columns with headers for the parade route.

This gives you an idea of the many people attending Mass.

I won't bore you with statistics but we are getting BUCKETS of rain.  How much?  Well, during Storm One we noticed we had a good size puddle in the middle of our bedroom floor.  No big deal.  Happens all the time here.  During Siam's 20th birthday party (congrats!) we had Storm Two and folks were forced to wade barefoot through our front patio as waves threatened to inundate our front door.  Big Storm Three was the humdinger.  We awoke to deafening thunder, brilliant sabers of lightening seemingly piercing our windows, howling winds and the relentless tick/tack/smack of hail on our skylights.  Michael performed perimeter duty and ascertained that there were no ceiling leaks.  Back into bed.  Ten minutes later...

"I hear water," says Michael. Well, duh, it's raining I think.  He hops out of bed and "OH, S*#!&", I'm wading," he shouts.  I leap out of bed and now I, too, am wading.  And then the lights go out. "Well, at least we won't get electrocuted," I offer. "Well, not yet," says Michael.  So there we are.  I'm in my fetching shorty PJs, wearing Wellies and balancing a flashlight as I use a squeegee to push water out of the bedroom, through the bathroom and down the shower drain.  Michael, stylishly suited up in boxer briefs and a headlamp "swims" across the front patio to the bodega to liberate mops and pails.  We use every towel in the house (7 washer loads worth), spend two and a half hours in frenzied effort and fall into bed.  Every room in the top floor (not casita) was swamped.  It turned out we had a clogged drain (one out of three) and that was enough to almost drown us.  Mind those drains Lakesiders!  And it just goes on.  Thursday night at Breakfast Club about 50 of us were seated at tables mostly arranged under a huge awning.  Bang!  Here it goes.  Big Storm #4. We're all balancing food, and more importantly drinks, as we try to push all the tables into the actual restaurant while hail pelts us and water rises to our ankles.  Waitresses are forced to go to elaborate gymnastic lengths to negotiate tables inches from one another.  These storms are not for sissies.  I'm talking almost hurricane force winds.  The first two summers were much tamer than this.   I am going to see if Michael can embed the link to this video which shows the main street in Ajijic during Storm Four.  Mind you, Storms 2-4 occurred within a period of six days.   Ah.... what might lie ahead if the Virgin cannot regain some self control.

Follow this link to see what Calle colon looked like during Storm #4:

Calle Colon in Ajijic during Storm #4

So, all in all, with the house blowing up and then our flood it has been a somewhat vexing July. Therefore, it is necessary to counter these untoward events with glimpses of beauty and insanity to lighten the mood.

Let's Start with Beauty

Manu and Paco invited us, along with Jim, to be their guests at the Ballet Folclorico de la Universidad de Gualalajara on Sunday.  It was held in the Degollado Theater on the main plaza in Guadalajara which is an absolutely stunning building.  There is nothing I can say that would equal what you can see from the pictures.  The dances and songs were from various areas of Mexico and some were performed in indigenous languages.  We had a terrific lunch, roamed an outdoor antiques market and generally had a marvelous day in the big city.  Then back to the pueblo.

The finale of the Ballet Folclorico shows the colorful costumes, ...

and the traditional dresses used in the performance, ...

representing the state of Jalisco (where we currently reside). These three photos courtesy of Manu.

These pictures will give you some idea of the beauty of the theater from the proscenium ...

to this view of the colorful dome above the theater, ...

and this view as well.

Now the Adorable

We discovered a nest of swallows near the door to our casita.  By the time we stumbled upon them they were almost fledglings ready to fly.  But not quite.  What they were ready for was FOOD! Lots of food.  Day and night. Poor Mom and Dad.  They were most virtuous parents and very attentive.  We watched as they learned to fly and land on the nest (not so easy with the nest plastered to a wall).  Then they were gone.  But now, the Mom (we think) is back on the nest.  Someone needs to have a talk with her about rampant procreation.

One of the parents drops by to feed the chicks.

At this point the chicks barely fit in the nest.

In anticipation of Mom or Dad coming, the chicks open their mouths (and what big mouths they have).

Another parent arrives to feed the chicks.

And Now:  A Bad, Mean Man

Sometimes it is just flat out embarrassing to be a Gringo.  Mostly when other Gringos go around giving you a bad name.  Like this.  Our pal Manu (who is -- if you didn't guess from the name-- Mexican) took his brand spanking new Jeep to the car wash.  As he drove out, an old Gringo geezer (see photo) banged into his car.  Not bad but, hey, come on, the car is BRAND NEW.  Compounding his poor driving behavior, the Gringo then began to try to buy Manu off by throwing pesos at him.  When Manu wanted to do the correct (insurance) thing the guy started going on about "Mexicans".  When Manu told him to wait, the guy said he was leaving and when Manu stepped in front of his car, the guy tried to run him over.  Multiple witnesses attest to this. So, Mister, you know who you are.  And now a lot of other people in town know who you are.  So cut it out and start acting like somebody who is only a visitor in somebody else's country.  Get some manners on.  Now.

The picture of the offending & offensive gringo taken by Manu.

Small Towns Are Small Towns -- and They are Silly

Faithful readers are familiar with Vino Blanco -- the white burro that was Pedro Loco's compadre and now is cared for by Yves of Yves restaurant.  In his heyday, Pedro traveled the streets of Ajijic in a cart pulled by Vino Blanco and, when Pedro had a bit too much to drink, his buddies just loaded him into the cart and Vino Blanco took him home.  Quite the burro.  So she has received an award.  However, not for ministering to the inebriated.  Inexplicably, she is now an honorary member of the Rotary's dog-assisted therapy program.  Although she is not a dog. And does no actual therapy. But she is sweet.  So, that is fine.  In the FULL PAGE article "Celebrity Donkey honored for spreading Joie de Vivre" an even sillier fact emerged.  It turns out that Vino Blanco is a GRINGA.  She is from Kentucky.   "Vino Blanco is one of the few remaining donkeys imported by the Mexican government to replenish the dwindling burro population around Lake Chapala."  Can you say "coal"?  Can you say "Newcastle"? Another inspired Mexican governmental decision.  If you drive 30 miles in any direction from Ajijic you are going to trip over burros EVERYWHERE.  We once got stuck in a donkey train traffic jam in Guanajuato.  It's like one giant Juan Valdez coffee commercial here.  Well, enough of that.  On to some good old American silly.

Vino Blanco ensconced in her new home at Yves' restaurants new location.  She is taken for walks daily on the shore of the Lake and gets to go play with other farm animals once a week at a hacienda.  And SHE gets the award?  How about Yves?

We came to Mexico from Wellesley, Massachusetts where we had lived for over 30 years.  It is a VERY quiet town.  It is a very rule bound town. Everyone plays nice.  For years, my friend Betsy and I would race to get the Wellesley Townsman every Thursday and the first article we'd head for would be the Police Log.  We would then call each other and laugh hysterically about what passed for crime in our little town.  It was kind of a contest to see who could find a really stupid one first.  Betsy wins.  She posted this on Facebook and, in the words of the esteemed Dave Barry, WE ARE NOT MAKING THIS UP.

Police Log:  July10th edition

"A man told police that at some time the previous night, someone had thrown yogurt and vegetables at his home.  The man was able to wash the yogurt off the siding and roof of his home averting permanent damage.  It's unclear what vegetables were used.  Police did not specify whether the yogurt was frozen, Greek or stirred."

Let's just HOPE it was all organic.  But, of course, it would be.  Have some fun and do a Mad Libs thing with the above article assuming that the crime had happened in Mexico.   Mine might be:

"A man told police that at some time the previous night, a black Suburban with dark tinted windows came roaring into his heavily fortified compound and hand grenades and Molotov cocktails were hurled through his windows while covering fire was provided by six masked men with AK47s.  Police did not specify if the weapons were provided by the U.S. government or had been acquired through straw buyers at a gun show in Houston."

Our cops don't deal in vegetables.  Please feel free to send your Mad Lib entries directly to me. There are so many possibilities.

Well, we are about to hit the road again.  Next weekend we head off to San Luis Potosi for the wedding of our friend Luzma's daughter Elisabetta.  It is our first Mexican wedding and we will report extensively.  From there we are going to spend a few days exploring the countryside.  A cave with a gazillion swallows, waterfalls (I know-- we never find them-- but we're taking a guide), an eccentric's garden and an abandoned gold mining town.  If the GPS doesn't land us in Detroit (or if it does), there will be many tales to tell.  In the interim, have fun and enjoy your summer.

Some of the friends who joined us for our July 4th/Siam's 20th Birthday party.

A very patriotic cheesecake for the party created by our friend Wes.

Mexican Ragout

Let the Ragout Begin

We've been back in town for about three weeks and have been engaged in various outings.  But there hasn't been a unifying event like Day of the Dead or Easter or whatever to organize a blog around. So... here's just a roundup of what's been going on.

Monday, Monday....

Lest one think that all is tranquil in our lives, let us share our latest Monday with you.  It started out fine.  Went to the Monday market, checked on some furniture Jose Esperitu is making for us.  Came home and started to make lunch.  Flipped on the TV and Kabammmm... all hell broke loose.  Smoke emerged from every surge protector in the house, computers crashed, TVs stuttered and failed, lights blew out....well, you get the picture.  Damien, our gardener, ran in and started pulling the cords from the surge protectors while Michael did the same.  "What the hell?"  we all said in our native tongues.  No thunder storms.  No transformer blow ups.  What?  Sometimes you almost forget you live in Mexico until...well, stuff like this.  After Danny showed up (Danny is our combo electrician, plumber, basically everything guy) he deduced that the electric meter furnished to us by the monopoly CFE (Completely F*** Everybody) had randomly decided to change from 110V and sent 220V through the house. The house did not like it.  It was not pretty.  Danny yanked the meter out of the wall (typical practice here) and cross wired or something and we are up and running once more.  The surge protectors gave their lives but saved our computers and TVs. The security system is still screwed up but we survived the night.  So don't worry.  We're getting solar soon.

Sedona Has Nothing on Us or-- We're Off to See the Vortex

As I mentioned, things have been rather sedate (well, except for above) so when our friends Alma and Graham mentioned that there was a vortex (Foco Tonal) down the Lake from us we were all in for a road trip.  I forgive you if you don't know what a vortex is.  I didn't until our journey.  It is, allegedly, a place where energy converges from both the center of the earth and the heavens producing, allegedly, therapeutic and energizing forces that are good for you.  To say that I was a big, old, doubting Thomas would be understating it-- but off we went.

As usual, our GPS persisted in pointing us in exactly the wrong direction but, after much mucking around with the GPS' on iPhones and beating the car's GPS soundly with our hands, we arrived at the vortex.  Except, it wasn't.  We compared the photos we had of the Vortex site and where we were (which was a restaurant with a big empty pool with a pile of rocks in it) and decided we had, once again, erred.  We sat down to contemplate things when a waiter assured us that we had found the Vortex.  A SECOND vortex.  How could we be so fortunate?

And, he assured us, this was a much less commercial Vortex.  And only a year old.  Hmmmm. Should we try this one?  Well, we probably were never going to find the other Vortex so, why not?  Ten minutes later we found ourselves, barefoot, standing outside a circle of stones in the dry swimming pool with a "guide" who would help us with whatever was going to happen to us.  I'm not exactly sure what DID happen to us.  Maybe something did.  Feeling profoundly self-conscious, I entered the inner circle and said my name.  There was a very strange echo.  Then I stood there for about five minutes (I think) eyes closed, breathing deeply and felt....well...nothing.  Maybe it's what you bring to the party.  Other people felt something. Halfway through the ceremony/event two fully dressed out police vehicles drove through the property to the Lake no doubt seeking out drug dealing cartel members.  So Mexico.  They stared at us.  After we'd each had our turn in the circle, our guide told us what he saw when we were each in the inner circle.  He was very nice.  He said I had suffered (haven't we all?) and now I had a life of happiness and adventure.  OK, I'll give him that.  He really hit home with Alma and both Michael and Graham seemed OK with his analysis of them.

Alma surveying the vortex.

Alma standing in the vortex and ...

Deirdre sitting in the vortex.

Alma, Deirdre & Graham at the first vortex.

The dramatic clouds certainly gave the impression that something special must be happening, ...

particularly with the hole in this cloud. Could it be the vortex?

After refreshments, we implored our "noncommercial" guide to draw us a map to the "commercial" vortex.  No more trusting that damn GPS.  He drew the map to the city we needed and told us to ask "anyone" where it was once we arrived in town.  After asking about seven people we hauled up to the next Vortex.  I mean, how commercial can a site BE when you need a hand drawn map and seven people giving directions to find the place?  Inexplicably, probably a hundred Mexicans had already found the place with no problem.  And, it was commercial.  And bizarre.  The photos will tell all.  Clearly, it must work for some folks or you wouldn't draw these crowds.  We had to take a number (like the deli) to get to go to the Vortex.  It was about a billion degrees, we estimated it would take another hour or two to reach our number and we hadn't eaten lunch, so we just took it all in for an hour or so and then sadly left without the actual experience.

The gift shop was particularly interesting.  It featured gnomes, fairies and frogs as well as the symbols of every religion known to man.  Apparently a combo of a frog and a gnome will bring you money. They had amulets for everything: love, healing, money, success in school, you name it.  The only basket of amulets that was empty was the one for losing weight -- some problems are more universal than others.  As we snaked our way back down the pitted, dirt road toward civilization, we encountered a giant pyramid which also offered extraordinary benefits.  But it was closed because the wife of the man who owns/runs the vortex had died and this must have been her area of expertise.  I could give you the whole history of the vortex but will spare you.  The photos are more fun.

One of the many symbols at Foco Tonal.

The all seeing eye greets you as you enter.

The Foco Tonal house, in which the owner of Foco Tonal lives.

Even the lighting had an otherworldly appearance.

More detail of the Foco Tonal house, and ...

yet another view of the house.

The little house for the dwarfs & fairies (or so we were told).

A group in the vortex.

We weren't sure if this was for the vortex, or a left over from a previous era of large satellite dishes.

Frogs, gnomes & other assorted figures for sale designed to bring one luck, money or whatever.

Obviously the vortex does not include TV reception, so a Dish satellite is necessary.  Note pagodas.  Very ecumenical.

Yet another interesting shrine on the grounds.

Marfa/Area 54 Have Nothing On Us  or --We Are Not Alone

I mean I should have guessed.  If you've got vortices sprouting up around you the only logical conclusion would be that you also have OVNIs (UFOs in Spanish).  And, oh yes, it is alleged that we do.  While chatting with our guide at vortex #1 he furnished photographic evidence of UFOs hovering above the lake.  "Oh boy," thought I. "We are in for the full nine yards of "iffy" stuff today."
We all politely perused the photos and nodded that we all agreed that the small green folks were with us.  After he left, and I was about to enter into another negative diatribe about the unexplained,  I noticed that Graham looked a bit sheepish and seemed to be weighing something in his mind.  I am going to state once more, Graham is NORMAL. Very. I mean he's British, c'mon. And then he told the story of the UFOs and volleyball.  He and a bunch of other expats were playing volleyball at Cristiana Park at midday.  Blue, clear skies.  He glanced up and saw a formation of what he thought were planes but they didn't have wings.  He thought it was the angle and waited to see the wings.  No wings.  He said to his team, "Hey, look up"  And they did.  And they saw the same thing.  And then, just like in the movies, ZAP they were gone.  They went over to the sidelines and told the other players who immediately judged them mad and handed them each a beer.  End of story.  He really is NORMAL.
While recounting this tale to a good, normal friend in Boston in a somewhat (but not wholly) skeptical tone, there was silence on the other end of the line.  And then she said, "Well, I've seen them too-- along with several friends-- while at boarding school. We weren't drinking."  So two normal friends with paranormal experiences.  Another case of Quien Sabe.

A Day in the Park

We went, with Barbara and Allen, to a free concert at the Old Train Station in Chapala one afternoon.  I was intrigued because the main act was an American who "...in 1989 became entranced by the Mexican harp and moved to Mexico to devote his life to mastering the instrument."  I just thought that was interesting.  It was very nice and the crowd was a wonderful mix of Mexicans and expats.  We struck up a conversation with a 20 year old Mexican musician who joined us for snacks and a glass of wine and we completely fell in love with a two and a half year old little girl and her stuffed monkey (AKA mono not Manu -- an inside joke). She adopted us and played happily with us for ages.  From time to time her grandfather would drop by to see if she was OK, but otherwise she was free to run loose and do her thing.  The kids in Mexico are really happy.  Really.  In fact, Mexico was found to be the second happiest country in the world despite everything (like the economy, the corruption, the cartels etc.)  Just look at these photos and you'll see what I mean.

Barbara & Deirdre enjoying the music.

One of the musicians playing the Mexican harp.

The little girl with the stuffed monkey, ...

who couldn't resist showing her monkey to Deirdre & Barbara.

After rolling down the slight hill several times, it was time to take a rest.

Food is an essential part of any Mexican outing.

The quality of the musical entertainment was excellent & free.

Culture and Counter Culture

After that harp concert entry you may fear that we are going all high brow on you but never fear.  We were soon off to the Lucha Libre, Wrestling and Martial Arts festivities at the Malecon.  Lucha Libre is where they wear the funky masks and indulge in huge, exaggerated drama and maybe throw each other once in a while.  It was, of course, what I was most interested in.  Yet again, I was thwarted because we either arrived too soon/too late to see Lucha Libre.  But it was fun anyway.  A couple of photos will suffice.  Manu (see joke above) has promised to take us to the "real"  Lucha Libre in Guadalajara. Can't wait.  Really!

Not Lucha Libre, but real wrestling as can be seen in this photo ....

and this photo ...

and this photo.

When you throw your opponent, the idea is that you end up on top.  And you thought we didn't understand sports....

Wrestling in Mexico is an equal opportunity sport, ...

although who would want their face planted in the sand.

She wasn't always on the losing end, however.

The ladies showed they could be as aggressive, if not more so, than the men.

While all of this is going on, families are enjoying a beautiful Sunday outing, ....

sharing food & drink.

Meanwhile foals wander along the shoreline of the lake, ...

and a caballero stops to water his horse, while the new born colt joins in.

Families make themselves comfortable while they watch the action with many bringing chairs & umbrellas, ..

while others stand to watch.

Following the wrestling was the MMA (mixed martial arts) contests.

Despite all of the padding, some of those blows ...

are certainly felt.

On the Malecon on a Sunday there is always entertainment for all ages.

Unintended Consequences

It seems to me that the unintended consequences thing is particularly true in Mexico.  Here's an example. Jalisco (our state) outlawed the use of exotic (read wild) animals in circuses.  Seems reasonable.  But hold on.  The Guad Reporter ran this article about what happened next.  A circus guy went to his friend and asked if he could "leave his hippo" in the guy's garage.   "But of course," said the man.  Well, either somebody let the hippo out or the hippo figured out the garage door opener because, in the middle of the night, he was trotting down the streets of Tlajomulco.  Two ruined police cruisers later, he was subdued (they spared us the details).  It makes you wonder where the lions and tigers went......

One Last Thing

Our neighboring town had its big fiesta a week or two ago.  It is the Feast of St. Anthony of Padua and the streets downtown are closed for a full week while carnival rides and street food carts and bands take over.  I'm only mentioning it so we can include the photo of the little Franciscan.  All the little boys are dressed up as monks and are adorable.  We didn't get a photo of the two eight month old monks that were just beyond cuteness belief.

Our young Franciscan friar.

So, that's all for now.  Will post again when more bizarre things occur.  Which, given the track record, should be soon.  Hope you are all well and having fun.  Take care.

We'll leave you with this picture of El Sacromonte restaurant in Guadaljara, ...

where we had a delightful & delicious lunch with our friends Manu & Jim after getting our INAPAM cards.