At six a.m.
I was not impressed. In fact, I thought: I'm going to take a nap, and I am taking the next bus away from these crazy freaking people. Good Lord.
Only moment since I've been in Mexico I've wished I was at home..
Anyhow, I went, found my hostel, took a nap, and when I woke up they were still letting off explosions everywhere throughout the city. They do this all the time at the slightest excuse, but this past week is one of Mexico's biggest fiestas, the week preceding the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe. This means they blow up far more things than usual. From about the feast of Saint Nicholas on the 6th through tomorrow, December 12th which is the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the country sounds like a war zone.
There's a string of Catholic feasts, all of them are excuses for explosions: the Immaculate Conception is December 8th (which in the States is supposed to be a big deal for Catholics too, but most parishes are somnolent, and sleep walk through the liturgical calendar) and December 9th is the feast of Juan Diego, the indian to whom Our Lady appeared and gave the miraculous image to.. The 13th is the Feast of Saint Lucy, which is also (I am told) a big deal here, so I'm sure they will be blowing up stuff then, too.
Anyway, that nap had put me in a much much happier frame of mind, and instead of staying annoyed, I became amused by the spectacle. The fact that it was afternoon, not dawn helped reframe the situation. Mexicans never stop letting off fireworks this week though, so you have to get used to it. 3 in the afternoon, 3 in the morning, it's all the same. I have no idea who stays up all night long letting off bombs, but that's how these people party.
Today, when I woke up, after responding to emails from people concerned about last night's earthquake (see prior post) I walked out into the kitchen of the hostel here and made myself a cup of coffee. They have a free pot, and it's delicious because Chiapan beans are excellent, and these people are French and know how to drink coffee.
Everyone here is Francophone, with the exception of myself, one other American guy, a few Mexicans and a Swiss German girl. Swiss French, French, Quebecois, they're all represented here. This place is touted by Lonely Planet and the Petit Routard, both, so it draws all the French hippies. They do yoga, drink a lot of beer without getting trashed (which makes me feel at home: Mexicans tend to get sloshed, which I don't appreciate) and smoke pot openly here. I like the place, since the people are great, and I get to speak French.
There's a little girl named Clara here whose French hippy parents are apparently home schooling her while they wander Latin America. I posted a couple pictures of her earlier. She's a little prima donna, and runs around being annoying. She reminds me of Izzy, which is great.
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| Hostel Central Courtyard |
Anyway, as I was pouring the coffee one of the hippies comes up and says "do you know zat in 15 minoots zey are going to blow zom bombz up in zee street?"
I was like, "Bombs? What bombs?"
He laughed, and replied "Yes, zee crazy f'king Mexicans are going to blow up zeez bombs. Zit will be very exciting!"
I grabbed my camera, and walked out into the street. Sure enough, there was a line of black powder running smack down the middle, with little white bundles laid on it about every foot, apparently being the aforementioned bombs:
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These are some of the people who ran buy in the minutes before the explosions:
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| Wearing Indigenous Costumes |
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| Running with Flags |
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| Running with Icons of Our Lady of Guadalupe |
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| And finally, the requisite marching band. |
There were throngs of people. Children everywhere - I was charmed: no one seemed at all worried.
Most Americans would be in cardiac arrest, sheltering their kids, calling their lawyers and throwing fits.
Not these Mexicans. They were happy and excited.
Ten minutes passed, when off in the distance about five blocks away they lit the line of powder in the Zocolo, which is the central square of the city. The line of powder ran some ten blocks to the Church of Our Lady of Guadalupe on a hill overlooking the city. I'll post pictures of that church tomorrow, because I think it's interesting.
This is video of what happened next:
The clip cuts out at the end because the concussions of the explosions did something to my camera. Not because I was killed. It was a close call though, I had to run inside a random doorway to avoid being hurt.
Absolutely nuts, these people.
Still not as insane as we are, though.
I got an email from Nikki yesterday where she told me she's working at a storage facility in Michigan where people rent space to set up meth labs. They do this to avoid burning down their homes when the meth blows up.
Americans blow up meth labs and Muslim countries, Mexicans blow up everything else.
Maybe it's just me, but I prefer the Mexican custom, myself. Still, tonight I'm exhausted and a bit overwhelmed. I'm not sick of Mexico, but it would be nice to be home.
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