A Day at the Pyramids

Pyramids in San Miguel.  Who knew?  Until fairly recently, few non-indigenous people, that's who.  Today, we took an organized tour to Canada de la Virgen.  I chose the tour because of the raves over the guide, an archaeologist, named Albert Coffee.  Albert is a grad of the archaeology program at LSU (again, who knew?) and was very involved with the excavation and study of this remnant of MesoAmerican culture.  \

As it turns out, Albert is a riot.  Seriously.  Our group of 13 was treated to a fascinating, and often funny, exploration of one of the northernmost Mesoamerican sites.  The commentary began as he drove us from downtown San Miguel...providing his credentials and the history of the excavations, to date.  To date, as a considerable amount of the ruins are still unexcavated.

Here's Albert:

This site is 'west-oriented' and is thought to be from a death-view culture, which isn't as morbid or
depressing as it sounds.  All of the 'mystical' magic (and, DAMN, some of this stuff IS magical) revolves around the setting sun, rather than the rising sun.  The main pyramid's apex lines up with the setting sun on either March 4 or June 21 (there were so many dates and important numbers--13, 20 and 52--that I'm already confused).  In any case, at the official 'opening' of the excavated pyramid, someone using a phone app (I cringed writing that) that shows the celestial bodies from any given point, discovered that, on that date, all of the planets--with the exception of Saturn--also line up in the notch in the apex of the pyramid.

 This flat area in front of the pyramid is what defines the culture as a 'patio' culture--the broad, flat patio in front of the pyramid.  All three excavated pyramids have patios, one being round, as is the pyramid itself.

This society practiced both human sacrifice and some limited cannibalism.  There is a push to 'erase' this detail from the official tourism info, as some think it's a bit of a downer.  I thought it was fascinating.

The problem with any group, of course, is the inevitable 'know-it-all'.  You can usually pick him out within 3 minutes of the beginning of the leader's comments.  They have a million questions which are all, essentially, about letting everyone know that they've been to another ruin (in this case, Tulum).  Today's K-I-A was FIXATED on hallucinogenic mushrooms.  If he asked once, he asked 20 times about whether you could find them in the brush or whether they were illegal to buy.  Fortunately, he shut up when his wife began HER diatribe about the many parallels between this culture and the teachings of the Dalai Lama.  Had they been serving alcohol at this point, I'd have gone to the bar.

After the tour, we had lunch at a working farm in the area, which turned out to be pretty cool in and of itself...in spite of being vegetarian. (i'm not sure Terry realized that)

So a great week has come to a close.  San Miguel is so much more (and, pleasantly, less) than I'd hoped.  The city and its residents are beautiful in so many ways.  The pace of life here is rejuvenating.  I'm not sure if I buy into all the mysticism revolving around the pyramids, but there IS something in the air here.  We keep hearing stories about people from all over the world who come for a vacation and never leave.  Come here.  You'll understand why.

The sun is getting ready to set and this is the view from the roof of our house.

Tomorrow, Graciela will make us one last breakfast and we'll be off.  It has been a great trip.
Graciella was mortified that I asked to take her picture.  She's a lovely woman.

Hasta luego, San Miguel!

Giving Thanks

So, sure...I'm thankful for family, friends, health, a comfortable life...blah, blah, blah.  You were saying it already.

This year, I'm thankful that we decided to come to this beautiful city.  I'm thankful that the owners of this house entrusted it to us during our visit.  I'm thankful for the beauty that is all around us here.  Not the architecture and art (for that is surely spectacular), but the people and their kindness.  I'll get to that in a bit.  First, a recap since my last post.

We've settled into a morning routine.  When we come downstairs, Graciela serves coffee.  We sit around reading and drinking coffee until she announces that breakfast is ready. Yesterday, she'd made chilaquiles and this morning it was a mélange of eggs and nopales.  After breakfast, we head to El Jardin and stake out a bench in a puddle of sun and watch the world go by for an hour, or so, with a few hundred of our closest friends.  They've started decorating the Jardin for Christmas.  That involved the delivery (and planting) of hundreds of poinsettias.  There was a news report yesterday about some controversy over the placement of this year's tree. (hell, I've only had six months of Spanish...how am I supposed to know what they're talking about?).

After the 'morning sit', we headed to a beautiful colonial structure called Bellas Artes, which houses art classes, music and dance classes, art galleries, a spectacular courtyard and some incredible murals from the 40s. 

We then headed over to the library, which is a cultural/social center of the community. On the way to the library, a funeral procession passed by, led by the hearse, a mariachi band playing 'My Way', followed by the mourners.  Passersby all stopped and doffed their hats in respect.  In the courtyard of the library, there were several lessons in Spanish taking place, people meeting for walking tours and, of course, the ubiquitous dogs of San Miguel.  The dogs are the best behaved pets I have ever witnessed.  I don't think we've heard a dog bark.  Of course, we've yet to see a cat.  After a bit of shopping for gifts and other treasures and a late lunch, it was time for a siesta.  Dinner last night was at a chain restaurant.  Not ANY chain restaurant, but Pollo Feliz (happy chicken).  It's legendary here.  It's as big as an airplane hangar.  You order your pollo al carbon and head to the salad/salsa & chips bar and, upon your return to your table, your food is there.  The cab driver on the way to dinner was pretty chatty and told a joke (yes, in Spanish) about the chickens not being so happy, as they're dead! 

After our 'morning sit' today, we decided to make Thanksgiving dinner at home.  Terry announced that he'd roast chickens, so we headed to the Mercado to fetch a couple, as well as 'all the trimmings'.  Today, that is including camotes, which are candied yellow sweet potatoes, in syrup, as well as carrots and onions, which are roasting with the chicken...which brings me to being thankful for the warmth and generosity of the people of San Miguel.  I ran to the Super Bonanza (a little store near the house) to fetch some laundry detergent, some wine, some sugar and some string (for trussing the birds). I was almost to the store when I realized that I had not a clue as to what the word for string was.  I hoped to see a package on display to avoid the humiliation of having to play charades with the store employees, but no such luck.  I started with saying that it was thinner than rope, but white.  Naturally, I began to add the inane hand gestures (simulating tying a bow). THAT, of course, led to the assumption that I was looking for white shoe laces.  By this point, 3 employees were playing the game, 'Guess what the moronic gringo wants'.  A light bulb went on over my head, literally.  I saw a bare bulb and simulated 'pulling the cord'.  3 chants of AY...hilo!  One of the contestants ran off with a pair of scissors and returned with a bit of white string, just as I wanted, that she cut from somewhere in the store.  They didn't sell it, but sent me elsewhere.  The woman at the second store didn't have hilo, but wanted to know whether 'thread' would do.  I said I was using it for cooking and she sold me a packet of white thread, just in case, but sent me to the paper store around the corner for 'hilo para paquetes marrones' (that's right...string for brown packages).  I announced my need at the third store and the woman ceremoniously produced balls of string in 4 different sizes.  All of these people had the generosity of spirit to help me and not laugh about the crazy gringo, at least until I was out of earshot.  For that, I'm most thankful.

Have a great Thanksgiving.

La Gruta Spa and the Tuesday Market

Yesterday, (sorry, there will be no pictures of this) we hopped in a cab for a 15 minute trip out of San Miguel to La Gruta Spa.  There are several thermal baths in the area and we opted for this.  The complex was very garden-like with several pools of different temperatures (it was 75 yesterday afternoon, btw), culminating with a long tunnel that leads you to 'the grotto' itself--the warmest pool of all, and covered by a stone dome.  Amazingly, my claustrophobia didn't seem to mind. Must have been the soothing waters.  In the grotto, there is a huge cascade of VERY warm water that people stand in line to experience.  It's the sort of thing that we should have at our house.  That's all I'm saying about it.  La Gruta wasn't too crowded, but could accommodate a huge crowd, with large lawns with chaises and tables/chairs, café, restaurant, bars.

The REAL excitement, however, was securing transportation back to SMA.  We opted for a bus.  This meant walking about 1/4 mile down the highway to a place that was 'marked' as a bus-stop.  The marking looked like someone took a bag of cement, mixed it well and dumped it on the side of the road...and dropped some white paint on it.  That, at least, is what we THINK marked the spot.  Eventually, a bus approaches and you wave it down.  Fortunately, this worked.  The driver stopped and brought us back into town for about fifty cents per person.

This morning, Graciela made us another astonishingly good breakfast (fresh fruit, warm tortillas, eggs, guacamole, refried beans and pastries.  I could get VERY used to this sort of life.

After breakfast it was off to the Tinguas del Martes--the weekly market held on Tuesdays.  Imagine a cross between a county fair, farmers' market,  huge flea market and open-air hardware store.  There are THOUSANDS of vendors.  Sprinkled among them are fondas selling gorditas, tortas, tacos and giant fried pork cracklings (yes, we bought the giant pork crackling).

Did I mention the live poultry?

Here's my favorite merchant...selling onions.

 

 

The fruits and vegetables were incredible-looking.  Yes, we took some back to the house.

 

 

After a few hours of sensory overload, we needed sustenance.  Fortunately, it was everywhere.

 

 

With strawberries and giant pork rind in hand, we headed back for a mid-day break.  Here's our street and house.

 

 

 

Last evening, the owners of the house called to make certain that we weren't too cold.  It is in the mid to upper 70s each day and around 50 at night.  This is winter in SMA.  It may also explain the presence of many ex-pats.









These people are crazy...

Crazy in good way.  Our house is in the historic Centro, a UNESCO world heritage site.  Because of this, the facades of the buildings can only be painted from a select palate of colors.  Sounds boring, but it's anything but.  There are many properties for sale in the area, but they look like nothing special from the outside.  You wonder who in the hell would be crazy enough to buy one of them at the prices they're asking.  Then, you pass through your large, wooden doors into your home's central courtyard.  Suddenly, you're thinking that you're nuts for not having been here before.  Here's a shot from the roof deck of our courtyard.

Graciela is our housekeeper/cook.  She's charming, but doesn't speak a word of English.  Fortunately, I'd spent the last 6 months studying Spanish.  As it turns out, I can make myself understood.  I was crazy, however, to think I could understand more than 50% of what I hear others say.  Graciela greeted us warmly, gave us a tour of the house and its workings and proved that SHE wasn't crazy because she called in the property manager (who manages the boutique hotel next door) to discuss $ with me for food for breakfasts.

San Miguel is incredibly artsy.  Yesterday's artists-of-the-day were mariachis.  Seriously.  It was the Feast of Saint Cecilia, the patron saint of musicians.  Here, that means mariachis.  Last night, before dinner, we headed down to El Jardin (the main square/garden-3 blocks from the house) to witness the Battle of the Mariachis.  I'm not sure what it's really called, but that's what it was.  A stage had been set up and mariachi bands would perform.  After their set, they, along with their groupies, would parade through the neighborhood while the next band performed.  This went on all night.  By all night, I mean ALL NIGHT.  They were still playing at 6:30 this morning!  Insane.

As if THAT wasn't enough, it turns out that the people here love fireworks.  Incredible displays continued until we went to bed and turned out to be my wake up call at 6AM this morning. 

After a breakfast out (it's Graciela's day off), we headed to the Ignacio de Allende Museum.  Many consider him to be the father of Mexican independence.  Many others think that that father was Hidalgo.  In either case, we learned more about the fight for independence in Mexico that we'd have thought possible.

We headed into the Parroquia for a quick tour, but ended up staying for mass.  I've been to many churches and attended many masses, but nothing like this.  People moved around, talked, greeted others in the middle of the service...a man with one leg even came in and stood in the center of the church with a huge sign asking for help to buy an orthopaedic shoe and prosthesis.  No one batted an eye...except for us. 

After church, it was off to one of SMA's mercados.  This one was the daily Mercado Ignacio Ramirez.  Their selection of merchandise was limitless.  You could buy fruits, vegetables, meats, fish, underwear, cookware, shoes, hats, blankets, spectacular bouquets of flowers and, of course, pinatas.

Sandwiched among the items for sale are 'fondas', which are little stands selling food.  Each fonda specializes in certain dishes and is named after the woman who cooks the food.

At this point, we needed nourishment and headed to a place for carnitas--Apolo XI.  It's a hole in the wall...literally.  You walk in, tell the proprietor whether you want your pork as a sandwich, as tacos, or simply on a plate with a fork.  Then, you head upstairs to the open air dining room and you hear the guy downstairs chopping your pork and making your meal.  It's delivered and then you scarf down the most tasty, succulent pork you've ever eaten.  With beverages, it was $2.50 a person.  We're saving money by being here.  It is sheer insanity!

Now, it's time for a siesta.  There's nothing crazy about that.