La Muerte- Dulce y Amargo

The sweet and sinister are all for sale in San Miguel markets 
as the Day of the Dead / Hallowe'en approaches...

Sugar Skulls for Day of The Dead altars

The Dark Side

Surreality Check

Went to Mexico City this past weekend to attend the Affordable Art Fair and spent Saturday walking the unbelievably crowded streets downtown. A surreal adventure...

Here are some pics:

On every street corner costumed characters from
superheroes to Homer Simpson, as well as these guys
will let you photograph them for a mere 10 pesos.
The wild dog puppet was truly frightening.

This building, typical of many others in Mexico City,
has obviously seen far better times.

Yes, it's Frida. In drag.
Outside the Sears building, of course.

A piece by Leonora Carrington in an outdoor
exhibit of her surreal animal scuptures.

Waffles

Finally! Waffles and Doritos in one convenient location. What took so long?

 

 

 

 

Mark-

Jaral de Berrio

Ex Hacienda Jaral de Berrio

Granaries

 View from the kitchen

A few days ago our new best friend Rich and his wonder dog Bunjee invited us on a journey to visit Jaral de Berrio, a 15th century ex hacienda in San Felipe Torres Mochas, about an hour and a half from San Miguel. We left at dawn and arrived early enough in the morning to avoid the rising heat, where we discovered a rambling complex of ruined buildings and conical granaries surrounding an empty square plaza, fronted by the hacienda itself.

According to the caretaker, who opened the gates for us 

(after much calling out and banging on doors), Jaral de Berrio was the most important hacienda of its time and one of the largest land owners in the world. It was the first place to produce tequila in Mexico with permission from Spain, and plans to revive production of mescal and tequila are evident in the stacks of oak barrels lining the courtyard, as well as the shiny new distilling equipment located in the outbuildings next to the main hacienda. 

Hopes are to renovate the buildings with profits from the sales of mescal, which have been in disrepair since they were abandoned several hundred years ago and left to the caretaking of the local community egido, which (according to the caretaker) proceeded to strip it of all valuables and let the rest deteriorate. 

Thick walls and doorways leading to more rooms

For now, however, one is free to explore the place as is, and we wander through numerous rooms, each one decorated in elaborate wallpaper, peeling paint and fading murals.

Carved wooden doors hang crooked from rusting hinges, a caracol wooden stairway spirals into darkness, steps worn into soft grooves from centuries of use. We tiptoe warily on worn tiled and wooden parquet floors that suddenly open up into ragged gashes with views of the rooms below. There are no rules or cautionary signs here to keep you from the apparent dangers of the unstable supports. This is Mexico, after all, and as usual, your safety is in your own hands.

Pigeons inhabiting empty rooms

These days the rooms are inhabited by pigeons, bats and swallows. Papery wasps' nests adorn the rafters and the pungent stench of bat guano emanates from dark corners. Tumbleweeds congregate in the hallways, and they say that the ghost of the Count's daughter wanders through the abandoned rooms, perhaps in search of a forgotten past when the silos were filled with grains and the ballrooms with dancing counts and countesses.

Detail of an interior mural

By mid day a brown haze appears on the horizon as a hot wind picks up and swirls the eternal dust through the broken windows. It's time to leave, but not before the guard offers us a tiny ceramic jarrita of Jaral de Berrio mescal to send us on our way into the dusty streets.

-Posted by Susan

***

Mexican Cultural Sight

I've been extremely busy trying to get a micro-brewery up and running here in San Miguel but on occasion I take the time to look up from my work and notice the interesting cultural sights that appear everywhere in Mexico.

A cultural landmark

This homemade electrical panel was fascinating to me for some reason and I particularly liked how it appears that the tree is the only thing utilizing all the available outlets. Whoever took the time to make this panel and risked their life to illegally install it must be proud, I know I felt that way when I stopped to admire it on my way home one day.

Click on the 'Like' button if you think this is awesome.

Pages from Susan's Art Journal

Here's a peek from some of my art journal pages from San Miguel this year. 

Folk Art at Casa de la Cuesta

Weeping Saint

Morning in San Miguel

Streets of San Miguel

-posted by Susan

Where's Marky?

No doubt you have been wondering what I have done with my other half, or at least why he has not been contributing to Gringado lately.

Well, so have I.

It turns out it's a whole different experience coming to Mexico for the winter than coming here to make a living and call it home.

Especially so for Mark, who is rather stressed out and obsessive at the best of times. These days, even more than usual, it's ALL about the beer. For the past several weeks I have been waking up to complaints about the awful water quality, the lack of funding, agonizing about the name and logo, and going to bed to the the moans and groans of a man on the edge of madness.

But yesterday he sold his first case of beer, and today they ordered another. 

Finally, home brewed cerveza comes to San Miguel. 

The logo, designed by yours truly

Unpacking the  brewery in a suitcase

The first cases of Dos Aves Cerveza

Well, now that the ball is rolling, lets hope he comes back to us, Gringado readers. Meanwhile, you can read more about the Cerveceria Dos Aves on Mark's other blog, Beer Diary... at www.backyardbrewer.blogspot.com

Cheers!

-Susan

Bird Paintings

Happy new year to all!

Here is a peek of my exhibit of Bird Paintings at Camino Silvestre.

-Susan

Bah Humbug en Español

In the morning the school down the street has its speakers on full blast and I am awakened to the tune of I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas. It doesn't matter that this is Mexico, that we are in the desert in the dry season. The tinny speakers wail and croon, following up with Rumpa Pum Pum, which is more appropriate but equally annoying. 

Piñata stall

That evening I watch as a man perches precariously on a rickety ladder, twisting the  electrical wires of his house to a string of lights. Across the narrow cobblestone street another man stands on the rim of the bed of a pickup truck, reaching upwards with a large tinsel laden star attached to the string of lights in his hands, waiting for the signal to let go. On the street below a woman watches, surrounded by children. Mas para alla, she points, directing the operation from the advantage of her viewpoint. Move it over a little. The children hold their breath. A piñata strangled with blinking lights hangs above their heads from the neighboring house, where a door is propped open and warm light floods out, revealing a circle of people with hot mugs of ponche, singing and laughing, practicing for the posadas. A young girl dressed as an angel leans forward in her wooden chair so as not to damage her feathery white wings. 

Tonight the posadas will amble down the cobblestone streets, the virgin Mary propped against a paper mache burro, her accompanying angel in prayer pose, and a bored young Joseph, breathing in the fumes from the flatbed truck upon which they are so precariously perched. Piñatas will drop from balconies and children will pummel them with sticks until candy rains down and they scramble for the treats as the traffic backs up behind them.

Cool stuff for your personalized Nativity scene

Every year the markets become a Christmas Bazaar where you can buy clumps of moss and lichen and bromeliads and cactus and a myriad of plastic animals and figurines for your nativity scene.Piles of wise men, sheep, cows, palm trees. Marys and Josephs and angels and pigs, yellow

ducks and cherubs and flamingos. And of course, baby Jesus himself, in every color, shape and size.

Baby Jesus in Bondage

In the shops the  tinny sounds of Christmas songs emitting from strands of blinking lights adorn plastic Santas, which share the shelves with the baby Jesuses. Burros and reindeer eye each other suspiciously. Snowmen grin from glitter encrusted Christmas cards, and all is merry and bright, even though most of the people here have never seen snow, and most likely never will.

And who am I to say it should be any different? 

The Piñata Song

Dale, dale, dale,

no pierdas el tino;

Porque si lo pierdes

pierdes el camino. 

Ya le diste una,

Ya le diste dos;

Ya le diste tres,

y tu tiempo se acabó

Hit it, hit it, hit it

Don't lose your aim

Because if you lose it 

You will lose the path. 

You've already hit it once

You've already hit it twice

You've already hit it three times

And now your time is over

Rooftop Santa

-Susan

***

In Guad We Trust

"La Morena"

At the end of the tiny passageway of our street a crude Virgin of Guadalupe is painted on a brick wall. Here on a street called Refuge, between the roads called Hope and Treasure. 

What could be more auspicious?

You see her all over town; painted, carved,  baked onto tiles. Statues of her encaged in metal bars, peeking out from niches in the walls, adorning the marketplaces and churches, offerings of flowers and candles at her feet. Printed on T-shirts and shopping bags, keychains and tattoos. The blue robed goddess with golden rays, stars on her mantle, proudly perched on a crescent moon.

The theory is that if you have a Virgin of Guadalupe image on your house she will protect you from those who wish to do you harm, such as spray your walls with graffiti, leave their garbage on your doorstep, or rob your home. It is hoped that no Mexican vandal with an ounce of faith would commit a crime beneath her beseaching and compassionate gaze. The higher the fear of crime is in a neighborhood, the more Guadalupes you find. It seems that more and more of them are appearing on the walls and in the doorways of well built homes and pieced together shacks everywhere. In the richer areas she is carved and painted and decked out in all the glory money can buy. Outside the poorer houses she is painted crudely on the walls of unfinished brickwork with house paint. In all cases she carries the same message. I forgive you, she seems to say. But still, please don't tag my wall, break into my house or let your dog shit on my doorway.

And here, at the bottom of my alley, on the morning of December 12th, day of the Virgin of Guadalupe, someone has placed pots of blooming flowers and lit candles at her feet in a touching tribute to Our Lady. After all, no matter how she appears, how crudely or misshapen she is represented by well meaning artists, she still represents what we all long for; an all embracing and loving Mom who forgives us our flawed childish human ways and offers refuge from life's struggles and challenges. Someone who cares about us- who shares our suffering and offers mercy, who gives from the heart of hearts and shows us that there are indeed miracles in this life, whether you believe in them or not.

-Susan

For more links to The Virgin of Guadalupe on this blog, 

click HERE

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Creative Solutions

The winner of this weeks 'most creative award' for electrical solution goes to the owners of a house on Calle Refugio where the typical front porch light bulb dangling from a hole in the wall, is transformed into an elegant statement of simplicity, functionality and pure thriftiness. Behold the beauty that blossoms from the simple desire to be illuminated.

Keepin' it real, people.

 

How to Survive the End of Time

Mayan Calendar

So the countdown to the end of the Mayan calendar has begun, and  with less than a month to go, there are more theories than days of the year to fire up our imaginations as to what this may mean for the planet and those that inhabit it. The Mayan calendar, designed around cycles of time, began on August 13th, 3114 BC, and ends on December 21st, 2012, completing a 5,200 year cycle. 
Everyone from astrologers to movie directors are telling us to  be prepared for anything from a doomsday apocalypse to cosmic paradigm shifts. 
But exactly how does one prepare for the possibility of a monumental change when we really have no idea what to expect?

Ixcacao, goddess of Chocolate

Well, I for one have a plan. And it has to do with eating enormous amounts of chocolate.
Here's my theory:

It is reported that the Mayans consumed copious amounts of chocolate in the form of a hot drink, derived from cacao beans called xocoatl (In fact, our word "chocolate" is believed to have come from this very word). 

It is a scientific fact that the effects of chocolate on the brain are positive ones, and that consumption of a cocoa drink rich in flavanols, a major ingredient of dark chocolate, boosts blood flow to key areas of the brain, thereby increasing the amount of oxygen,  helping to increase performance in specific tasks and boost general alertness. Not to mention helping to create a race of highly intelligent creative people.

Why was Mayan culture so much more advanced in scientific achievements  than other civilizations of its time? Aside from developing a complex calendar and one of the world's first written languages, they were adept at mathematics and were believed to have invented the number zero. They were also master astronomers and were able to predict solar eclipses, and built major cities without the use of the wheel. 

Could there be a connection? I'm betting that there is. 
As it turns out, the site of Izapa, the center of the ancient Mayan civilization that is considered to be the birthplace of the Mayan calendar, is the very same place where cacao was first cultivated, traded, and drunk by the gallon by thousands of Mayans. 

Classic Mayan vase painting 
depicting chocolate drink

What better reason could there be for indulging in my favorite food? So bring on the truffles, dark chocolate candy bars, hot cocoa, double chocolate fudge ice cream, chocolate mousse! Perhaps the increased blood flow to my brain will help me to survive the end of time and whatever cataclysmic changes that result from it. 

And if turns out not to be true, that December 21st is just another day like any other, then the worst thing that may happen is I'll gain a few pounds. Which, when put into perspective next to the possibility of an apocalypse, doesn't seem like such a bad thing, after all. 

-Susan

Disclaimer: Please understand that this is only a theory based on my own imaginative and wishful musings...

***

Mark's Mexico

I'm not sure what I got myself into here. Late at night when I wake up in our temporary home and stare up at the cupola above our bed, my mind cranks out scenes of certain failure and a gruesome death. The gears turn and my confidence and the sense of unlimited possibilities that I felt during the day turn to nightmares of doom.

The inside of my head

I'm the type of person that likes routine and things I can count on, the familiar. For me, here in San Miguel, this is the antithesis of that idea. And though I know intellectually that overcoming my fear of the unfamiliar is an important personal challenge for me, one that I willingly accept and desire, it's still a huge struggle and conflicts with my overriding base interest to be comfortable and at peace.

So, I concentrate on the culture, observing the ways of the people. I learn the terrain and become very familiar with the map of the city memorizing as many street names as possible. I study my Spanish lessons with a clear focus and I do all of these things in the interest of fitting in and assimilating and ultimately replacing my old comforts and familiar routines with new. Reacquiring my sense of peace in a new land with new ways.

When you need it and where

Very accessible

While these late night feelings of terror soon dissipate with the morning sun and I resume my activities to pursue a permanent place to live and a new career, I can't help but occasionally be reminded of my late night fears for brief moments now and again. Especially when I struggle with my very poor Spanish to make myself understood. But here in San Miguel, I don't stay self centered for long as there is so much real life going on around me all the time. My objectivity is reinforced by marching bands with mojigangas that come out of nowhere, crowds of revelers trailing behind celebrating who knows what. Fireworks set off for no apparent reason light up the night and break through the normal noise of barking dogs, screaming kids and traffic, with startling percussive. As a handyman I'm also distracted and curious about the way the trades people apply their crafts, especially the electricians. Always interesting and usually amusing. For some reason, these things help keep me grounded and out of my head.

mojigangas

On the other hand, Mexico is the perfect place for my personality type. The surreal sense of place here allows for wakeful dreaming, a way to lose myself. I walk down the cobbled street back home into the glare of the sun and pass a teenage boy sitting at the step of the darkened doorway to his home, a fighting cock held on his lap. The sharp angle of the sun highlighting the colors of the golden bronze feathers with steel blue highlights. His white dog stands beside him following me as I pass with pale blue eyes. Further on an old drunk Mexican man resides at the curb nursing a home made drink in a plastic soda bottle. He calls to me as I pass, "Mijo!" and I don't understand the rest of his inebriated plead. My first impulse is to ignore him and carry on but something in his voice tells me to regard him with respect and I see he's pointing to the white plastic cap that goes to his bottle. It's somehow rolled to the center of the street. I turn back and get it for him, placing it in his weathered hand, and he acknowledges my sympathy with more unintelligible words. I move on and reflect on the exchange and feel glad I took the time to help. This is my Mexico.
-Mark

Transitions 2

Autumn in Mexico

Welcome back to Gringado, where we hope to once again enlighten and entertain you with our adventures and observations in Mexico.

We have been back in San Miguel for a whole week, and it is as if we never left.

The sky is still blue as a dagger, the roof dogs greet us from every corner, happy to annoy us once again, and the cobblestones are littered with bougainvillea blossoms.

This year we are taking 'The Big Leap,' and are planning to stay in Mexico indefinitely (yikes!) 

So after selling most of our stuff and  cramming the rest into a 10X10 storage space, we packed our essentials into several overstuffed worn suitcases. Tubes of paint, canvases, yoga mat, thick soled shoes, and of course a mind boggling amount of beer  equipment, which to me could have easily passed for suspicious bomb making supplies. But as usual the customs guy just grinned with amusement. Home made cerveza??? ¡Que bueno!  And only then could I breathe easily and take the Mexican air into my lungs- that earthy, smoky, early morning desert air, and realize that we have finally done it. 

We have crossed over to the other side. 

Whatever that means. 

We will try to keep you posted.

Meanwhile, a prose poem, written after the flight...

Some Personal Items May Have Shifted During Flight

Some personal items may have shifted during flight,

during the time that your wheels left the ground

and you became suspended in a place

between the one you have grown tired of

and the one that you fear but must go towards.

It could be that your heart is not where you left it,

It may be jostled and nudged into a far corner or split open

From the pressure of the flight.

Open the overhead bin carefully, lest the loose ends of your life

find a foothold in someone else's luggage.

Lest you accidentally grab someone else's stories by mistake,

and forever lose your own, which have taken so long to collect.

Some items may have shifted during flight.

Perhaps your personal bits of ephemera

have been tossed and unsettled from unforeseen turbulence

and what you once held dear is only so much fluff in the wind.

You had best check the contents of your luggage

to see if it is lighter or heavier than you remember.

If it is the latter then be sure to toss out a few unnecessary items

so that you will have space for new ones.

If it is the former then lucky you, you may proceed with joy.

Some personal items may have shifted during flight.

Your memories, for instance, or your fear of death.

Worries and concerns may be lost and unfounded. 

It could be that your neatly organized opinions

have turned over or smashed into shards of broken glass

Perhaps you open your suitcase to discover

that all that has meaning is in fact invisible,

transparent as a ghost.

Syllables may have been added to your name

And your reflection might be of someone you hardly recognize

In the hollow space where you kept your fear

you may now find fragments of hope,

And perhaps few twinges of excitement,

And one lone crazy  red sock.

Some personal items - your agenda, your state of mind,

may be altered beyond recognition

as you find yourself disembarking

on a new land that feels strangely familiar

yet foreboding all at once.

Perhaps the sequence of things seems a little scrambled.

Suddenly there is no longer a forward or a backward, 
Only this: A gentle expansion and contraction,

the simple tug and pull of muscle and desire,

pulsing to a beat so universal, so primal,

it becomes your own simple heart beating

to a rhythm you recall 
from a time before wings.

-Susan Dorf

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