Churros In
The Plaza—Snakes On The Doorstep
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My friends are back home in British
Columbia. I signed up for three days of depression, lonely following our
whirlwind of explorations and excitement. A vibrantly green lizard perches on
my wall, staring down at me, as if to say, “I’m here. Don’t cry.”
Each day brought choices, where to
go, what to see. We drove to Tonola twice for the tianguis (open-air street
market). Twice we plucked fruit and vegetables from huge piles at the Friday
tianguis in Etzatlan.
Under the guise of signing Kathy up for phone/internet
service, we went to Tequila. Yes, Tequila is the actual name of a town.
Etzatlan, in the valley rich with
black volcanic dirt, is purely farm country. Tequila, in the red-rock volcanic
hills, surrounded by blue agave fields, is home to Jose Cuervo Tequilas. The
beautiful town, clean and festive, lured us into the museum, gallery, shops and
a restaurant, of course, where I had shrimp in Tequila sauce. No, I did not
have to go to a meeting afterward.
We staunchly resisted temptation
though we could have been lured into imbibing tequila every ten meters. People
here laugh at Americanos who drink rotgut bar tequila in slammers or sinkers or
some weird thing—as quickly down the hatch as possible because it is so bad. Tequila
is meant to be sipped and savored. Distilleries guard their secret recipes. Each
brand has different strengths, flavors, and ages.
Oops—there goes my lizard, Verde,
straight down into the giant philodendron, head first. I’ve been abandoned
again!
We saw Magdalena, famous for opal
mines. We yielded to temptation, mea culpa, in San Marcos, where artisans make
clay pottery dishes and cookware.
Our favorite baker had a severe
stroke so his (the 4:00) panaderia is closed. In our minds his baked goods are
the best. So we had to search out other bakeries. We have settled on the 12:00
bakery for fresa (strawberry) empanadas, the 2:00 bakery for the most delicious
Mexican cookies and the 5:00 bakery for bread rolls and other melt-in-your
mouth goodies. Times refer to when the goodies emerge from the ovens.
These are very small bakeries, no signs over the door. Bread
is made fresh daily and often sold out within a couple hours. It’s hard to
justify baking when an empanada is 3.5 pesos and a bread roll is 3 pesos.
About a half hour drive from
Etzatlan, in the hills of Teutchitlan, archeologists uncovered ancient ruins of
the Guachimontones pyramids. As early as 300 BCE an ancient people built a
complex society around circular stepped pyramids. We were allowed to wander
around these ancient sites, only a few of which have been restored. This is a
“must” trip for everyone who visits me. No argument.
On the way back from the pyramids,
we dined at the three hundred year-old Hacienda La Rivera. I don’t mean we ate.
We dined. There is a difference. We savored our choices over three hours. It
seemed fitting. Nothing should be rushed after a day in the spiritual ruins.
One Sunday evening we sat in the Plaza
just to watch people and munch churros. There is something which must be
respected in a society in which the entire family strolls around the square
after church, enjoying one another, enjoying their neighbors.
Every day brought new experiences,
special times. My friends did not want to leave. On the last day we were
sitting on my patio when a coral snake curled into view from around a flower
pot to the right of my door. Kathy and Crin jumped on chairs. I knew it
wouldn’t attack. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t afraid like I was with my first
coral snake. But I wasn’t going to embrace it.
Josue and Erica ran over with shovels and dispatched the
slinky bugger. What happened with “You’ll probably never see another one”? In
Mexico it is against the law to kill the snakes. Don’t tell.
You might think all we do down here
is gallivant around. My everyday life is simple. We over-filled the few days
Kathy and Crin were here. It was Crin’s first visit and we had ulterior
motives. We wanted to convince Crin to buy a house and come frequently. Will
she? A strong “maybe,” “probably,” “almost a done deal”.
I’ll miss them terribly. Here comes
a three-day depression. Three days of rest. My neglected garden is crying for
attention. Working in the dirt will pull me together. Oh, another lizard on my
wall—this one gray.
Sondra Ashton
HDN: Looking
out my back door
September
15, 2016
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