Travel Fever Part 2 - Magic and More Magic

Tajin, Veracruz

This may be a long one because there’s a lot to cover, starting with our trip to the beach town of Tecolutla, Veracruz. As normally happens when one has a long weekend planned specifically for a beach trip, it rained. And it was cold. The weather app had informed us as such ahead of time but there was no replanning. Carolina was taking Friday off, and we were both off from school on Monday, and she was the one driving. There was no opting for a different weekend. Her 9-year-old son went along as navigator, and we left Tepa merrily at about 11:00 am on Friday, March 17th. The drive was spectacular once we were a ways past Pachuca, the scenery mountainous and forested. The views were sweeping as we drove past peaks and crags carpeted with pine, then into the orange groves of Veracruz. Almost as soon as we crossed the border from Hidalgo (and a slice of Puebla) into the state of Veracruz, the air became humid and beachy. The scenery became more tropical - every vista more beautiful than the last. 

Tropical Flora of Veracruz
Photo Jon Ellis

All in all, the drive was about 4 hours to a town that ran alongside a massive river. Following the river, we eventually came to Tecolutla - kind of a shabby little beach berg if I'm being honest, where the rain clouds loured. Carolina herself remarked that the town seemed to have deteriorated since she was last there seven years ago. Our hotel was nice though, with a lovely indoor pool which we might have indulged in except for the fact that it was filled with screaming kids, and, as a result, probably pee. It was Carolina's son, in fact, who theorized that the water was probably made up of about 50% pee. He was not about to set foot in it. Of course, the great number of children in the pool was due to the fact that it was cold, windy, and rainy outside, and so all the families, who, like us, had planned their beach getaways, were making do with the hotel pool. 

Our Hotel

In lieu of that option, we went out and found some dinner, and once we wandered around for a while, realized Tecolutla had a bit of charm after all. At least the people there, Mexican tourists mostly, slogging around freezing to death in their beach wear, were determined to make the best of it. In fact, when we went down to the beach to take a look, we observed a stalwart few in the water or huddled under cabanas on the debris-strewn shore. No thank you. 

The cool, cloudy weather turned out to be a blessing while tromping around the next day in Tajin, an archeological site about 40 minutes from Tecolutla where it is thought that the Olmec peoples, along with possibly other civilizations, lived, starting from about 1200 years ago. Though the pictures won't do it justice, this site exuded that mystical essence that we've absorbed from the other archeological wonders we've visited here in Mexico. It's that sense that a great people once lived here: a great, and maybe terrible civilization of sacrifices and bloodshed, but also of a deep spirituality. You can feel it in the air. 

Small Child, Big Pyramid

We decided to cut our trip short by a day since the weather wasn't improving, and on Sunday headed back to Tepa. You know me - as much as I love it in principle, a sun-drenched beach vacay isn't really ideal for someone of my complexion anyway, though of course I was armed with my total-body-coverage swimsuit. It didn't matter after all. We loved every minute of the trip - especially being in the company of the awesome Carolina and her smart-as-a-whip son. 

The following weekend brought us Cecilia. Ah, Cecilia - a legend in my family due to her beauty, wit, and kindness. She has been one of my best friends since we were fifteen and I went to Mexico City for the summer to live with her family. The following summer she came to stay with us, and from those two experiences, our bond was cemented. There's so much more to say about her and her family, whom I love as if they were my own, but it's too much to encompass here. Anyway, there have been years at a time when we either lost track of each other or communication ceased for one reason or another, but we always pick it right back up again the moment we see each other - and the last time was 5 years ago. 

This time, she came up to San Agustín for two days, most of which we spent gabbing and gabbing, in Spanish and English, and catching up. Saturday morning, we decided to check out a place very nearby San Agustín that Jon and I had been meaning to go to since we got here. The place is simply called, "Lugar de los murales." Or "the mural place." We had a local taxi take us the 10 minutes or so up the highway to where the sign points off to the east, past farmland, to, let's just say, a miracle. In the tiny Colonia de Morelos, someone, at some point had the idea to start a mural project. I don't know when it started or if artists still come to paint, but, essentially, the whole town is covered, wall after wall, block after block, with world-class mural art, most of it Mexican in style and nature. We are particularly interested in projects like this because, 13 years ago, when we lived in Astoria Queens, Jon had the brainchild to have the many industrial walls of our neighborhood painted with murals in order to cover up the graffiti tags. We asked our dear friends, artists and activists Savitri D and Bill Talen if they knew muralists who would be interested in painting the walls. They put us in touch with a collective called Ad Hoc Art, which took up the challenge. Now, all these years later, blocks and blocks of our old neighborhood in Queens continue to be adorned with new and innovative art pieces thanks to Alison Wallis, who keeps the Welling Court Mural Project going. Who knew there was another such wonder of creativity and ingenuity just 10 minutes away from us right here in Mexico? And it was a thrill to discover it with Cecilia. 

                                                        

"Our Right"

And now for our trip to Oaxaca City. Mostly, I'll let the pictures do the talking and, hopefully, you'll see why we wished we had had more time to spend there. In fact, we could have spent weeks. But our cat and our general attachment to San Agustín dictated we only take three days. I know that I’m overusing the word “magical” when talking about Mexico in general, but if there’s any place we’ve visited that deserves the adjective, it’s Oaxaca: colorful buildings, cobblestone streets, marketplace after marketplace, great restaurants, amazing food everywhere you go, nightlife, and art, and a general hipness that is amazingly unpretentious. Overall, it encompasses more of what Mexico is about than our little town, including the people begging on the streets, an encampment of teachers occupying a busy intersection in protest of unfair wages, outskirts of big box stores and cineplexes, and a clear delineation of rich and poor. We don't see much of any of that in San Agustín.

Yet, while we were impacted by those realities, we still played the good tourists, eating our way through those first few days of Holy Week, taking in all the markets, visiting the cute neighborhoods, plus the archeological site of Monte Albán, buying a few artisanal treasures, and generally just soaking it in. And talk about mural art – it’s everywhere, and it’s great. Yes, our time there was too short, but we will be back – not this visit – we have less than two months here and it won’t include another trip to Oaxaca, but another time for sure. 

Mexico will inevitably call us back. We are invested in the magic of this place. Call it a spell if you like, but, whatever it is, we are definitely under it. 

 Colorful Streets:

Photo Jon Ellis

Santo Domingo Church:

Photo Jon Ellis

View from Rooftop Restaurant of Santo Domingo Square:

Incredible Murals:

Photo Jon Ellis

Photo Jon Ellis

Museum of Contemporary Art:

Photo Jon Ellis

Photo Jon Ellis

Quirky Art Piece:

Photo Jon Ellis

Monte Albán, or Miquizli in the native language:

Jacaranda Tree in Bloom:

Restful Courtyards:

Photo Jon Ellis

Typical Oaxacan Food: A Tlayuda and Chili-grilled Pork, and the famous Mole Negro:

Photo Jon Ellis

Travel Fever Part 1

Pachuca, Hidalgo

Just a few days after I posted my last entry, one of our dear friends, Teresa, who lives in New York, came all the way to this far-flung place to visit and experience a little of what life is like for me and Jon here. She flew into Mexico City on a Saturday and explored much of what that metropolis has to offer. She then came to Tepatepec by bus on Wednesday. Jon met her at the bus stop and gave her a little tour, and then they came to the University to meet me and join in our Hñahñu language class (the indigenous language of this region). After that, we met my friend Arlo at the best taco place in San Agustín. 

Let me just say, Teresa got it right away, and when I say IT, I mean the enchantment of this place. It's crazy how this little, slightly scruffy town gets under your skin so fast. You feel it - and she felt it - the kindness of people, their devotion to the community, and the charm of a slower, yet still vibrant, pace. It drew her right in: the food, the smells, the sounds, the air, very quality of the light. There's no denying the special-ness of it. She even loved our slightly funky house, to which we've added our own touches of art and comfort. 

Tacos with Teresa

The next day, Thursday, we wasted no time but got right to adventuring. We set off at about 9:00 a.m. on the local Combi to the next town over, where we grabbed a bus to the larger town, about an hour away, of Ixmiquilpan. (I dare you to pronounce that!) Our final destination was the Grutas (grottos) de Tolantongo, an hour farther. We were not very confident of how to go and which buses to take, but a lady who just happened to start out with us in Tepa guided us all the way to Ixmiquilpan, and there, negotiated a taxi to take us to the Grutas. She was an angel sent from heaven if there ever was one. 

Desert Vista on the Road to Tolantongo

That drive from Ixmiquilpan to Tolantongo was intense. The road steadily ascends until it finally begins to descend into a deep valley, surrounded by desert-clad hills that jut up into the sky. One steep hair-pin turn after another finally leads you to the valley floor through which an opaque turquoise river rushes. These are the Grutas of Tolantongo, one of only two naturally occurring hot-water rivers in the world. The other is in South Korea. The area has been developed into a kind of spa resort, that is if you like your resorts really rustic. You pay a small fee to enter, then have to buy towels and water shoes if you don't have them, and you are required to store your stuff in a locker if you want to access certain areas of the park. After stashing all but the bathing suits we were wearing and our hats, watershoes, sunglasses, phones (for taking pictures) and towels, we climbed a steep set of stairs to discover that you actually couldn't bring anything into what they call The Cave, except for your bathing suit and water shoes. The towels, hats, sunglasses and phones we left precariously on a fence with everyone else's. Then we waded into a stream of perfectly hot water - probably exactly body temperature - then under a cold waterfall, and into a lake within a soaring cave to bask in the gorgeous blue liquid. Sure, there were plenty of other people there but we didn't care it was such an exquisite experience. We swam and floated in The Cave for a while, then decided to check out The Tunnel up another flight of stairs. That turned out to be a big NO for the claustrophobic afflicted, including me and Teresa, because the pitch black tunnel, with a shallow river that flowed through it, went who knows where. Yeah, I don't think so. 

After more frolicking in The Cave, we were able to retrieve our stuff, and ventured down, down, down, to The River. Hopefully, my photos do it justice though there's no way to describe the beautiful experience of being immersed in that mineralized warm water where you could just float your cares away for hours. Don't get me wrong, the current was strong and so was the sun, but I found a shady pool to relax in, Teresa found a sun-soaked rock to bask against, and Jon secured himself against a sand bar and let the current wash over him like a jacuzzi jet. There were no other people in our section of the river, so we just swam and soaked and felt completely renewed. Finally, it was time to get something to eat, and after that we headed back, first on a bus and then by taxi, to Tepa - about two and a half hours in all. This was one of the best adventures Jon and I have had so far, and as you know, we've had many. And, it was great to get to have it with Teresa. 

Stock photo from web. These are the "Pozos"
at Tolantongo.
They are man-made so we didn't bother.

Friday was a chill-out-in-San Agustín day, with a lovely dinner at home. Saturday we went to the archeological site of Tula, which, honestly, we can't get enough of. However, since I've posted about it here twice already, all I'll add is that Teresa's presence brought out the wacky in us all. We agreed, for example, that since the Toltecs were big on adorning their structures with gems, they must have certainly have been among the first bedazzlers (maybe you had to be there to get it). 

That night we celebrated Teresa's 3-month-belated birthday at our favorite (and the only) fine restaurant in San Agustín, with the owner joining us for appetizers and drinks. We were sad for Teresa to go the next morning because the visit had been too short. Still, not too short for her to fall in love with this corner of Hidalgo, as we most certainly have. It's inevitable. 

The following weekend we attended the baptism service, and then later the party, of Anna's baby boy. These baptism parties are absolute blowouts. There were 350 people in attendance and more food than any sane person should eat. We sat at a table with a lively family that insisted we eat everything placed on the table, which included, mushroom and spinach quesadillas; chicken mole (moh-lay) with tortillas; Mexican rice; some weird soup with something that looked like veins in it; and carnitas (seasoned and chopped pork) with more tortillas. By that point, we were full beyond imagining. But then Anna's mom came around to ask if we were ready for the barbacoa - the main offering of the evening. Barbacoa, as you might recall, is the roasted sheep they cook in a pit. There's no refusing it because it's the most revered dish in this region. And so along came the barbacoa - with yet more tortillas - and we stuffed it down. I might add there was nary a vegetable in sight if you don't count the spinach in the quesadillas and the peas in the rice. Would it kill someone to throw an avocado our way? Anyway, then the band started up and everybody danced - lots of people drank to excess - and finally, the cake was served and we departed at about 9:00 p.m. As we left, Anna's husband informed us that the party would probably go on until 3:00 a.m. It had started at 3:00 p.m. 

Las Prismas Balsaticas - 
photo by Jon Ellis

I'll end this post with a little about the trip we took this past weekend to another of the Magical Towns, Huasca de Ocampo. It's about 2 hours from San Agustín, in the mountains, surrounded by forest. It was one of those original mining towns, made almost entirely from stone - very pretty - and lots of fun. In fact, speaking of parties, I'd say it was definitely a party town, people out on the streets eating and drinking at all hours. We went with Rico, my school coordinator, his wife, and young son, so partying wasn't really our goal. We had "brunch" at one of the outdoor food stands when we first got there, then headed to a kind of national park nearby where we saw the Prismas Balsaticas - amazing rock formations over which waterfalls tumble majestically. 

We climbed and hiked and chilled out there for a while, then went back into town, where Jon and I checked into our hotel, with a plan to stay the night. After a rest, we met Rico and his family and ate again, lounging over beers and chatting amiably, enjoying the outdoor atmosphere. They then went home to Pachuca  - about an hour away - and we wandered the town some more. We left the next morning after an amazing breakfast at one of the many sidewalk cafes. 

Street Scene, Huasca de Ocampo -
Photo by Jon Ellis

Breakfast in Huasca

That catches you up for now. Next weekend we're off to the state of Veracruz so stay tuned!

Here's a slo-mo vid of me walking through a waterfall at the Prismas. I had the umbrella for the sun but it came in handy here. 

The Clumsy American

In the newly renovated daily marketplace in S.A.

Valentine's Day tulips

In spite of the fact that I feel completely included and accepted here, I have been known to commit certain faux pas that simply go along with living in a different culture. No matter how prepared you are when you visit a foreign country, or how much you think you know about it, there are always cultural differences that lie under the surface of which you might not be aware. The first time I made an embarrassing cultural mistake was just three days into my visit here. It was the day we were leaving Mexico City and traveling to Hidalgo. Lina, one of the teachers at the school, had come to pick us up. After we met, she introduced me to a fellow named Alberto. Not knowing who he was or what his relationship was to her, I asked if he was the driver, perhaps making an assumption about class. They laughed uncomfortably, and informed me that, no, he was one of the teachers at the school, who had come along to navigate while she, in fact, drove. I'm sure I turned a bright shade of red, and thought I would never live it down, but, after that, every time I saw him, he'd refer to himself jokingly as my chauffeur. We laugh about it to this day. 

Not long after we moved into our house, I was wanting the windows washed. I'd do it myself, but they are impossible to reach from the outside. I thought maybe a cleaning person would have the equipment to do the job, but where to find one? One day, a lady came to visit my neighbor, a person dressed, in my mind, for heavy work, and I asked if she was the cleaner. She nicely informed me that she was not. I skulked away, wishing I would learn to keep my mouth shut.

Then there's the matter of what to bring when someone has a party: food? No, that might insult the cook. Wine? Maybe, but what if they don't drink? We know plenty of people here who don't. Flowers? Maybe. But what if it's a child's party? We were invited to one not long ago, and I brought as a gift this cute water bottle shaped like a donut in shades of pink and purple - for a little girl, right? We get to the party to find that this sweet child is obsessed with some hideous blue monster that's on some cartoon or other, and there was nothing pink in sight. I will never know if she liked the gift because she didn't open it then and there. In fact, we left before the cake was served, which was probably an offense, but, once we were making our good-byes, it was too late to turn back. 

Another party - in the front patio with neighbors

One of the clumsiest moments I've had was when Cristina took us to the archeological site in Tula. Afterward, we went to eat in a fairly nice restaurant. There were about eight of us in the group, and I thought that it would be nice for Jon and I to pay, partly just to avoid figuring out the bill but also because they had driven us all that way and showed us all around Tula, and I wanted to pay them back for their kindness. So I went to the waitress and handed her a card, letting her know I wanted to pick up the tab. When Cristina asked for the bill and the waitress said it had been handled, Cristina's face took on an expression of absolute shock. When I told her I'd paid, she was speechless, but not with gratitude. She was angry - trying hard to contain it - but genuinely angry. I couldn't understand her reaction at all. Finally, once she calmed down, she and the others explained that when a Mexican person invites you to eat, they pay. Period. We were their guests, and it was insulting that we paid. It was almost like flaunting our wealth (which of course we don't exactly possess). We talked it out and I apologized profusely and then we were able to laugh about it, but I learned a big lesson that day in Mexican etiquette. 

Jon and I are learning the indigenous
language of this area, Hñahñu,
in this weekly class

Finally, though this is hardly the last gaff I've committed or probably will commit, my school coordinator, Rico, had been wanting to take us to one of the towns that Mexico has designated as magical, Real del Monte. However, between his schedule and ours, we could never settle on a date. Finally, on one of my days off, Jon and I decided to just go. Who knew when we'd be able to coordinate with Rico? And so we went. Later that very day, I got a text from him: "Shall we go to Real del Monte tomorrow?" With great embarrassment and amid profuse apologies, I texted him to let him know we'd gone that morning. I don't think he was all too pleased, but he's learned to forgive my awkward ways, or at least I think he has because he's always so very kind to me. 

Some of the students in my English Workshop
working on a map of the world. 

Otherwise, life has been calm these past few weeks. We bought a couple of old bikes and have been riding them around the town, usually late in the afternoon when it's cool. Something about it reminds me of kayaking because, if you take the back roads and head out into the countryside, the wind is in your hair and the setting sun is caressing your face; you feel free, at one with nature. We ride past corn and alfalfa fields, and houses in various phases of construction. The grey/blue hills rise in the distance and you think to yourself, "this is Mexico." Unlike what you hear on the news, so serene, and so very safe. We've been musing on what it would take to own a place here, maybe even the place we're living in now, but that will require a lot of negotiation and figuring out of things that we may not have the means or wherewithal to do. I'm not talking about not returning to the states - just maybe having a way to come back to this place that is such an unlikely getaway destination. Yet we're so completely in love with it, how do we say good-bye forever? I'm not going to think about that now. Maybe I'll just focus on behaving correctly, as much as I possibly can.

This is a video of a Valentine's Day party for the teachers. We chose names out of a hat to exchange gifts, and enjoyed food from a local restaurant. Listen, and you'll hear one of the teachers beautifully singing Rihanna's "Love on the Brain."

La Paz for the Pigment Challenged

San Agustin through the gate, Jan 6, 2023

Since I last left you, dear reader, Jon and I had the fun of seeing what Three Kings Day is all about in San Agustín as it swirled about us. In the U.S., we generally don't make that big of a deal out of January 6, unless, of course, we're storming a capital. Thankfully, in San Agustín we were spared the drama of that anniversary, and instead found ourselves bombarded by the sight and smell of Rosca de Reyes being sold everywhere we looked. What is Rosca de Reyes? Why, Three Kings Day Cake, of course!

Within the cake, 5 or 6 little plastic dolls are hidden, and the person who finds one has to perform a pre-determined task - usually something silly. Essentially, Three Kings Day is a day for the children. Also known as Twelfth Night, or Epiphany, it is the day when the three wise men supposedly reached Bethlehem with their gifts for the baby Jesus. Wandering around the town on that day, we found a fair, complete with free rides set up for the kids, as well as stand after stand of toys for sale. There were also multitudes of tables selling Rosca to the point that we thought, "how will they ever sell it all?" Well, apparently, they do because people buy it and eat it for days after. My friend Maria makes her own version, and her husband Frederico was selling it at our landlord's cafe where it flew off the shelves as long as it was available. In fact, that night, a lady rang our doorbell, wanting to know if my neighbor, who is also a baker, had any for sale. I told her that the neighbor wasn't there, but directed her down the street to the cafe where I knew she could get the best Rosca available. She was very grateful, and I felt like a real local. 

La Paz

Three days later, I was on the plane bound for La Paz, Baja California Sur, for the midterm reunion of Fulbright/Comexus. Sadly, I arrived there with a slightly off stomach and so did not participate in the first day activity, which was a boat trip to Espiritu Santo island, about 40 minutes across the water from La Paz. When the organizers mentioned that it would an all day excursion, on the beach, including swimming with seals, with a lunch of ceviche tostadas, and only one bathroom on the boat, I asked if I could bow out. Not only was my stomach not up to it but I had not yet received the full-lenght-sun-protection wet suit I'd ordered, and I felt like it was going to be way too much exposure for a redhead. The trip was planned, I think, more with the younger crowd in mind, and from the stories and pics they shared, it seemed like they had a great time. However, some complained that the boat was cold and the beach was hot and the lunch wasn't great; that the water was chilly and snorkeling with the seals a little scary, making me feel like I had made the right decision. Sure, I experienced a bit of regret at missing out, but what I did instead that day was take two lovely walks along the waterfront (with LOTS of sunscreen slathered on), stopped in at an adorable cafe for brunch, and holed up in my hotel room, catching up on The White Lotus. It was kind of the rest I needed. 

Sunset in La Paz with some of the group

The next two days were taken up with non-stop meetings, during the majority of which attendees shared presentations about their time thus far in Mexico, whether about classes, community, friends, food, projects, or any other relevant information that could be squeezed into five minutes. My presentation was called Mujeres Extraordinarias (Extraordinary Women) and it focused on the women I've met in San Agustín who have impacted and inspired me in some way. It was hard to confine it to five minutes that's for sure, because everywhere I go I meet extraordinary women who seem to run this community with the utmost love, kindness, and ingenuity. Many have become my good friends and I anticipate gettting to know more in the four months we have left here. 

The café where I ate in La Paz

My yummy brunch

Me and one of my cohorts, the amazing Ashlyn Anderson

A smattering of Fulbrighters  

Returning to school after that was satisfying, in that it was great to get back into the routine, and I found myself experiencing an even greater sense of belonging. Everywhere I go on campus, the staff and students know me and greet me, and going into the classrooms and seeing the familiar faces smiling enthusiastically at me makes me really happy. My writing project continues to move forward and I feel like I'm in the groove. 

A colorful classroom

My goals for these next four months are to spend as much time as possible with our friends here, travel more widely in Mexico, teach as effectively as possible, support those in my writing group to bring their projects to fruition, and to enjoy every single aspect of being here - even the inconvenient ones. This is the opportunity of a lifetime; I plan to live it to the fullest. 

Photo credit: The church of San Agustín Through the Gate to Jon Ellis

Amor, Paz, y Abundancia

As I write on this thundery, rainy New Year's Eve 2022 in San Agustín, I wish you all love, peace, and abundance. Here, we are a little sad because Nacha, the Pug who lived in our patio, has passed away. She got out the front gate yesterday and was hit by a truck. And though she didn't die, her injuries were very serious, so our neighbors decided to put her down. Poor Pompón, the Akita, will be very lonely.

In spite of this bit of sadness, Jon and I have had a wonderful holiday. My mother Pat, my sister Susan, John, my brother-in-law, and his sister Carol came all the way to this far-flung area of Mexico to spend Christmas with us. It's not necessarily an easy trip for a ninety-year-old lady and a man with some physical challenges, but they braved the three-hour flight and two-hour drive, and arrived unscathed. In fact, they were up for adventure. The first to confront them, about two hours after their arrival, was our downstairs toilet flooding. This situation was not confined to the bathroom, but came oozing out into the living room and kitchen, and was only kept from spreading farther by our using every towel available to sop it up. Keep in mind, this was Friday, December 23rd. We frantically called around for a plumber, Jon and I dreading the idea of having to spend the Christmas weekend without the use of our toilets - or any water in the house - and of having the family visit ruined. Eventually, the plumber showed up and discovered that the blockage was not accessible from the toilet. Instead, he had to dig up the cement in the front patio to find the culprit, exposing raw sewage. Oh boy. I had sent Susan, John, and Carol to their hotel to check in and get away from the stench, but Mom was staying with us, weathering it all with good grace. The plumber had found the problem and fixed it by the time we returned from dinner out. Thank god our fears had come to naught. We spent that night without the use of the downstairs bathroom, which was okay, and with a stench in the front yard, but the next morning it was all fixed. I scrubbed the entire house just for good measure and we got on with our Christmas celebrations.

On the 24th, we took the gang out into the marketplace to experience the crazy wonder of the swarm of people doing their last-minute food shopping for the holiday. Carol, John, and Susan did some exploring of their own around town, impressed, I was happy to hear, by the quaint charm of our sweet little town. For dinner, we had tamales from my friend Anna, and taquitos that I bought in the marketplace. Susan read her traditional Christmas story after dinner - this year, it was The Legend of the Poinsettia, a beautiful Mexican tale - and we felt as cozy and contented as could be. 

Now, I have to back up and relate the story of the tamales, which we acquired on a very special day: that of the Festival de la Gordita here in San Agustín. The festival has been an annual tradition for six years, though it was paused for two because of the pandemic. Arlo was one of the festival's main organizers and pulled it off with great success. Gordita, which means "little fatty," is the name of a food that consists of an oblong, thick corn tortilla, split in half and stuffed with all varieties of fillings. In San Agustín, they are famous for panza de res, which is beef belly, making the gorditas de panza de res a local delicacy. At the festival, which took place on December 17th,  vendors sold gorditas of all kinds, those of panza de res being the most popular. For the festival, the whole center of town was converted into an outdoor food fair with two blocks of tables and chairs set up so folks could dine in comfort, plus many blocks more of artisans selling foods and crafts from all over, and tables set up by the local merchants, lining the streets. (In this video promoting the Festival, Anna sings https://youtu.be/FmIy3XBeC6w. I hope you'll take a look - just skip the preliminary ad.)

There was a main stage where musical acts and folklore dance groups performed, and another where a puppet troupe performed throughout the day. Jon and I feasted on the gorditas in the morning, and caught some wonderful dance performances in the afternoon. We bought some artisanal chocolates, coffee, and non-artisanal sunglasses for me. We socialized with many friends we ran into, and then, at seven that evening, headed to Anna's neighborhood for a posada.

The Pilgrims

The Posada is a Mexican tradition wherein families welcome "pilgrims" from the neighborhood, who come representing the holy family looking for shelter. The family inside the house sings a kind of call and response with the pilgrims, refusing them shelter, until the pilgrims convince them to let them in. They come in bearing figures of the holy family, and place them in the nativity. Then there's more singing and a short service, followed by...tamales!!! The host family gifts tamales, sweets, and ponche (punch) to all their guests and a party ensues. We left there laden with extra tamales, most of chicken, some of chocolate! We promptly put them in the freezer to save til Christmas Eve because my family has had the tradition of eating tamales and other Mexican foods every Christmas Eve, having adopted the tradition from living in Tucson for so many years. 

To return to Christmas day: the family gathered at our house for a breakfast of homemade blueberry coffee cake, bacon, and eggs, then we exchanged little gifts. This year, of course, our gifts were each other, but Jon and I received organic chocolates which we'd been sorely missing, and gifted soaps and lotions to the others from Anna's shop of natural products. Though Christmas was on Sunday, the tianguis, or street market, was in full swing and I was thrilled to be able to share with my family one of my favorite weekly events. 

On Monday, we toured my university - kind of. Jon, Carol, and Susan walked the mile and a half there, but Mom, John, and I, for lack of a taxi, ended up taking a combi - as you recall, the little vans that make up a network of local transportation. As we could see the university from the road, we told the driver we were going to stay on and ride with him on his route. This took us up into the hills behind Tepa, through farmland with chickens and sheep, on dirt roads, and into an even more "real" Mexico than Tepa, which is about as real as you can get. The driver became our tour guide, pointing out interesting things, and when we got back to town, only charged us the price of a round-trip ride to the Uni and back - though I gave him a little extra for his kindness. That evening, Carlos and his boyfriend joined us for dinner: pastes from the local shop that makes them extra spicey.

Tuesday morning we had a brunch for Anna and her family here at the house, then in the afternoon, went to Actopan for a stroll, to see the beautiful convent, and to have a nice dinner out.

Convent in Actopan

Ceiling of the basilica in Actopan

Wednesday was my family's last full day here. Anna's mom had told us how to rent our own personal combi to take us to the archeological site of Tula (see previous post for more images), a comfortable and easy trip for everyone. While Susan and Carol clambered up the pyramid, I walked with mom, taking our time, as it's about half a mile from the main building to the site on a dirt path. Doing the mile round trip was a challenge for her, but she accomplished it like the trooper she is. All were impacted by the historical significance and the beauty of the place. 

Thursday they left in that same rented combi, and Jon and I were left with our heads in a whirl. Other than that first day disaster, it couldn't have been a more wonderful visit. 

Friday we had a visit from one of my Fulbright comadres who spent the night and caught us up on all the happenings with our fellows in other areas of Mexico. I will see them all in a week when I travel to La Paz, Baja CA for our mid-term reunion. 

We've spent the evening quietly, watching movies and basking in thoughts of family, friends, and this amazing place. We can't wait to see what the New Year will bring.