I took Rick to the San Juan de Dios mercado because I wanted to introduce him to María and to authentic Mexican huaraches. (If you recall in a past blog, María is the waitress/cook with whom I've struck up a friendship simply by coming to her hauraches stand before class several times.) Yesterday her husband Jesús happened to be there too, and the 4 of us had a good old time chatting about this and that, despite the fact that neither of them speaks a word of English. We learned that the average Mexican makes about 700 pesos a week (just short of $60) and that if they want their children to study English, they must pay. Unfortunately that's not something Maria and Jesús can afford, so their children will not have the opportunity to learn English. Knowing this has made it personal for me, and I'll certainly think twice when I hear complaints about Mexicans coming to the United States, unable to speak our language. As a language student myself, I know how much time and money it takes to come anywhere close to being bilingual. I also realize how intimidating it can be to be in a foreign country where you don't really understand the language and certainly don't understand the customs. So give those guys a break, mís amigos. We've got it good, and we can afford to be generous with our thoughts and actions. (...enough soap boxing for today...but you get the drift).
After Ricardo dropped me off at school, he went to the Catholic Church across the street (San Juan de Dios) to get ashes (Ash Wednesday). He was surprised to find that although there was a sign that said they were distributing ashes every hour on the half hour, the church was locked. His watch said 12:32 - why couldn't he get in? Since he didn't have any particular place that he needed to be, and since he tends to be pretty determined when something doesn't seem right, he decided to sit on the beautiful outdoor church plaza and wait. About 1:15 a little Mexican man who had been sitting on a bench near him got up and unlocked the church door, and people began coming out - but no one had ashes on their forehead. At this point, Rick was more than a little curious. So he went inside.
What he realized is that this particular priest apparently insists that anyone who wants ashes needs to sit through a service (which is highly unusual - usually you just walk in, get ashes, say a prayer and leave). The way the priest assures compliance is by having the little man outside lock the doors so that no one can get in or out once the service begins (seems like a bit of a fire hazard to us, but then what do we know?).
The other usual occurrence was that instead of the traditional placing of ashes in the sign of a cross on peoples' foreheads, they were sprinkled on the tops of the heads. I chuckled at the image of a little Mexican priest trying to place ashes on the top of Rick's tall head, and he admitted that it was quite a reach but that this determined little priest succeeded. Anyway, now Rick has a great story to tell about the unusual way in which he received ashes on Ash Wednesday. (I wonder if the shampoo sales in this particular church district are going through the roof right now?)
While Rick was having his "ashes" adventure, I was in my last Level 3 Spanish class. The class was tough, evidenced by the fact that we started out with 12 students, and ended up with 6. We had become a close knit little group, and I will forget the agony and instead miss the fun we had together. Following are a couple of photos taken during our break:
Myself with my dialogue partner Patrice (purple top), and our
instructors Juan Manuel and Antonieta
Our entire class
In the evening, Rick and I went out for a simple spaghetti dinner at Pronto, a little pizza place near by. It's quite the dive, but the people are friendly, it's inexpensive and it's where the locals go - so you know the food is going to be good. The menu was totally in Spanish, and we took our chances when we ordered Espagueti Pronto and Espagueti Méxicano - we couldn't figure out what the ingredients were, and the waitress wasn't able to explain. They turned out to be really delicious but - aye chihuahua - were they hot!!! Especially Espagueti Pronto, the house specialty (spaghetti sauteed in olive oil and seasoned with garlic, onions, chili peppers, and various Mexican herbs). I was certainly glad that I had brought a bottle of water - I drank they whole thing, and was thirsting for more!!!
I ended my day by going to a yoga class that I enjoy. It's just down the street, and the stretching is essential for me. We have class in a room on the second (top) floor of a cute B & B hotel, and there's a great view of the hills of San Miguel. When I heard a loud rumble and started to feel the building shake part way through class, I watched my instructor to see whether she was alarmed. Although I actually could see her eyes widening with surprise and concern, it actually took a few moments before she ran to the window to see what was going on in the street below. Luckily it was not the earthquake I had feared, but a huge truck going by. It must have been some big truck, because that building was shaking like it might come down any moment.
My darling Ricardo was waiting for me outside when class ended. He does that sometimes because we both get concerned about me walking home alone in the dark, even though it's not far. Anyway, it's always a delight to stroll outside in the evening in the temperate San Miguel climate, and it was a lovely way to end a lovely day.
And there you have it, folks. Highlights of our day yesterday. Hope you enjoyed reading about our adventures. I plan to write about and post photos of "Los Cascarones" and "Tiangas" , (cool San Miguel events that we experienced this week) in the future. But for now - I need to get away from this computer, get some fresh air, and stretch. Adiós, mís amigos.
No comments:
Post a Comment