...I read from the notes I took on our trip to La Santisima Trinidad. I don't remember who
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| Yeah, there was a conga line! |
said it because I was red wine pickled. Other gems I wrote, "...way out in East Jesus" and "Women's clothes shopping? I'd rather shave my tongue with a cheese grater." I love Texasspeak.
9/2, 8a
I wake up with a serious hangover. I do hangover yoga. I drink hangover tea. I stumble through the park with the dogs and gag when I pick up some poop.
130p
We leave Melissa & Mark’s and head about 20 minutes outside of town to Zandunga. The day before when I mention that I’m chilling at home all day, Melissa says, “No, you’re not! You’re coming with us to Zandunga!” and I listen because Melissa knows what she’s talking about.
I look up Zandunga and find a picture of Mark & Melissa, that I screen shot and text to her. Basically, they’re half famous everywhere they go.
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| Mark & Melissa in their happy place: Zandunga |
Zandunga is a ranch outside of town that started as a modest patio-type area where Gil Gutierrez would jam with other musicians and have food. It’s become a large Sunday
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| Delish. |
afternoon party from 2-5p, that you buy tickets to beforehand which include live music and food. The quality of both is spectacular, which makes the already reasonable ticket price (600 pesos) an outright steal.
I’m still feeling touchy, but I still order a margarita because I’m alive, aren’t I?? I love a margarita on the rocks, but usually order frozen to force me to drink it slowly. These margaritas are so strong, I don’t need try to drink slow.
The music starts with a couple of opera singers accompanying Gil Gutierrez and his band. Then Rafael De La Cruz (of Los Rabeats) sings and I cry. It’s not the tequila (yet), his voice just breaks my heart open.
Music, beer, music, food, music, margarita, and then we dance until we shut the place down. There is a big New Braunfels contingent here, and everyone knows everyone. I’m introduced around with the byline, “She’s at Don & Lynn’s” and I’m welcomed straight into the family. Later, they beckon me to the dance floor. When I try to sit down to catch my breath, I’m called again. (I love this.)
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| Gil Gutierrez & Rafa De La Cruz with the first dancing couple |
I’m comfortable here I walk up to Gil and ask him about drums. (He plays guitar.) I walk up to other strangers and talk to them. When does that happen? Zero.
It’s like Zandunga was made for me: open, friendly crowd, amazing Mexican food, margaritas, live music, an incredible dance vibe, it lasts no longer than three hours, and it gets us home before dark. Perfect, perfect perfection.
9/3, 730a
I wake up. Not as hungover as yesterday, thank God. I have plans to do a tour of San Miguel with my friends so I start my Monday with energy. I walk the dogs and I’m super psyched to do some real yoga since yesterday’s hangover yoga was BS.
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| Stella, in between barking fits |
I start a great, strong yoga class via podcast. A quarter of the way into the class, the doorbell rings and the dogs go nutso. Luciano explains there are men here to work on the house today. Fine.
I let them in and the dogs bark. Incessantly. Forever. Until the workmen go outside my bedroom to start pounding on the house. The dogs calm down. The workers pound, the dogs bark. Workers walk out of the house, the dogs bark. Workers walk back in with supplies, the dogs back.
I move my yoga - yes, I’m still determined to do the damn yoga - from my bedroom to the master bedroom, and bring the dogs. I try to close Stella & Usche in the room with me, but then they bark at the bedroom door instead of bullying the poor workmen.
I stop my yoga podcast and sit outside in the dogs’ poop yard. The instant I stop trying to do yoga, it gets quiet. I cast a look at Usche and Stella, now laying on my yoga mat. Maybe…
Their ears perk. They leap up, barking, and run out of the room after a workman. I spray my Verbena essential oil (45 pesos at Via Organica, good for anxiety, nerves, hysteria) into a tissue and huff it like an 8th grader before I retire to a hot shower.
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Parroquia with a statue of a friar
and Chichimeca before it |
11a
Lee, Anne, Grace, Louie and I meet Leondro, our guide for the private tour Melissa arranged. We spend the next two hours on a most excellent tour of the Parroquia San Miguel Arcángel (Parish of San Miguel), Jardín Principal (the square), El Mirador (the scenic overlook), among other places, where I learn all about Mexican topography, the Spanish conquest, the spread of Catholicism, Mexico’s Independence...
My favorite facts and stories:
-The Franciscan friars were nice and respectful. I made sure to ask because when I pictured converting the Chichimecas (the indigenous) from paganism to Catholicism, I pictured cruel brainwashing.
-There are stone crosses outside churches because Chichimeca, being hunter/gatherers, were very uncomfortable indoors. Masses were held outside churches at the crosses. Little by little, the monks moved the crosses closer to the church until they finally eased the Chichimeca inside to worship.
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| This Christ was carried on a four day journey by two friars, who have statues dedicated to them on either side. The Chichimeca attacked the friars on the journey, killing them. The legend is, this Christ is particularly bloody because the friars protected the statue with their own bodies, adding some of their own blood to the representation. |
-Ignacio Allende, the leader of the rebellion was criollo, a Mexican born Spaniard.
-Only 9% of México remains indigenous. Not only were the indigenous conquered (and raped- my comment, not Leondro's) by the Spanish, but the French and Middle Eastern also migrated (French migration started after Mexico gained independence in 1810 and Middle Easterners came as part of the slave trade in the 18th century before they started migrating in the 19th century, per Wikipedia) and contributed seed. For this reason, today you can have a mother and father who look traditionally Méxican, short with dark skin and round faces, have children who might have green eyes, light skin, and blond hair.
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YES taco carts with tacos
for less than a dollar |
-Allende held secret meetings with Father Miguel Hidalgo and Juan Aldana that were organized by (badass lady) Josefa Ortíz de Dominguez where they would play loud music and pretend to be partying so no one would suspect them of anything and try to overhear their plans.
-The reason Mexicans have so many names is to acknowledge all the family lines. And sometimes family saints? (Our heros, Allende, Hidalgo, Aldana, among many, had many other names. I'm a lazy American and chose to use the shorter versions, but with all due respect.)
-Josefa is the whole reason the rebellion against the Spanish was a success. The insurgents had planned the revolution for October 1. The insurgents were betrayed by a supporter who told the Spanish about the plans for revolution on September 14. The Spanish asked Josefa's husband (obviously, not knowing of she was one of the main supporters of the rebellion) to round up rebel leaders. Josefa overheard, but before she could alert her friends, her husband LOCKED HER IN HER ROOM.
Josefa kicked on her door until her horseman heard her. He couldn't unlock the door so she wrote a note of warning, rolled it up, and slid it through the keyhole. (According to Leondro. I don't know why she wouldn't just slide it under the door.) The note ultimately got to Hidalgo and on September 16 at 6am he rang the church bell and gave the call to arms that started the war for independence.
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| Barbacoa |
-San Miguel exists because it was part of the route the Spanish took when they transported the silver they mined in Guanajuato to the shore. The town got a huge influx of people after the Mexico City earthquake in 1985.
-San Miguel has fireworks ALL THE TIME. (so I hear. I've only seen them once since I've been in town, but I'm also super lame and usually am not out after dark because I'm writing my beloved blog.) to celebrate and commemorate every saint's day and every human milestone. At some point in history, maybe this still happens, when a baby died, families would shoot off fireworks all night long to keep the other angels away so the baby's spirit would have a straight shot to heaven.
I could go on and on. History is much more fun to learn when you're standing in front of the Casa de la Conspiración (House of Conspiracy) where Josefa and her friends held their fake parties and you can imagine the electricity of rebellion in the air.
We end the tour and I grab a quick street taco (I swear, if I could eat everything out of a cart, I would) before I go home.
The workman are still working, and the dogs are still barking. Where's my Verbena...?
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| Don't know these kids, but I love this moment |
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| Happy. |
