CV. Día de Independencia

Independence Day

Late last night most of the people in Mexico could have been found in the plazas of their respective cities and villages. We were gathered among them in our little town to hear reenactment of El Grito, Father Miguel Hidalgo's 1810 shout out to his congregation to throw off oppressive Spanish rule. We were in a block-long full-body jam in front of the cultural center as our local delegate to the municipal assembly rang a bell and recited a call and response homage to each of the leaders of the revolution ("¡Viva Morelos!" "¡Viva!", etc.) ending with "VIVA MÉXICO" shouted three times.

[Cue the fireworks]

We enthusiastically joined in and then shuffled through the crush to a place where we could enjoy an ice cream cone, marvel at the number of busy late night fast food and gee-gaw stands, and feel empathy for all the roving adolescent tribes in pursuit of who-knows-what. Then, holding hands as the banda started up, we slowly walked back home to bed and a very late morning wake-up. Today is Día de Independencia, celebrated here by a parade of school children and charros on horseback. It'll mostly be quiet during the day but you can bet there'll be music and parties tonight.

CIV. Globos en Fuego

Hot Air Balloons on Fire

--Evening, Saturday, September 9

I just walked outside to look at a globo floating away up in the night sky heading across the lake in the direction of Jocotopec. A "globo" is a hot air balloon that can be as big as a small kitchen, made of colorful tissue paper and kept aloft by the heat generated from a burning cup of paraffin held inside. The fire in this one is casting a red glow on the globe slowly ascending against the stars that are out clearly over the mountains to the south. From a line of clouds above their peaks lightning is flashing too far away for us to hear its sound.

Our Regata de Globos started mid-afternoon in the soccer field at the edge of town. A number of beautiful creations were successfully launched at this big event, but we saw half a dozen balloons that were barely airborne before they burst into flames and plummeted to the crowded field. The burning remains of one crashed into the stands not more than twenty feet away from us amid shouts of alarm and laughter that interrupted a mariachi band.

The flimsy paper globo burns away quickly and no one is more than superficially hurt; the price pay.

The bomberos--which is a great name for firefighters--are around somewhere. On the field self-appointed Junior Bomberos race after every falling corpse of a globo, grab its wiry frame and stomp out its flames. The many adults milling about chatting, eating, drinking among the globo handlers' work "pits" are mostly oblivious to the earthbound missiles en fuego.

Ahh, beauty and lax safety here in Mexico. Fortunately we saw no one fall to the ground with flaming hair or clothing and a concussion.

Here is a description of the regatta's celebration two years ago, accompanied by a number of pictures.