Merida Street Scenes--End of November

We've been attending some outstanding musical and dance performances the last week, but it's not possible to photograph them, and so I will content myself with more street scenes.

Our baker at the nearest panaderia.

We met a new incarnation of La Katrina today in an art gallery. I wish there were a way to bring her home, but she's larger than the car.

Mall

The Gran Plaza is a typical mall. Nevertheless, I liked some of the scenes.

I suppose she's the ideal Mexican woman.


A store only Frida Kahlo could love.

A store Kent could love.

And a final picture for Tyler.

Street Scenes

Yesterday, we managed to haul ourselves out of bed early enough to take a morning walk. If we leave exercise for after 8 AM, it's too hot.

Two of the statues from the Mexican/Japanese sculpture show on Paseo Montejo.


Mexican wiring. Actually, this was behind one of the posh hotels on Paseo Montejo.

A colorful house not too far from us.

A balcony dog. Years ago, when I took a Spanish course in Morelia, we weren't afraid of the street dogs, who although they were mangy, were not aggressive. It was a different story with the dogs who lived on roofs and protected property. It always woke me quickly when one of those dipped his head over the edge of the roof and seemed to attack me from above by barking and snarling. This one, made of clay, would suit me fine.

A New Apartment

Our landlord is putting a new apartment directly under us. It used to be parking, but he figures he can make more on the building if he can rent that space. It will be exactly the size of our apartment, but slightly different in its arrangement. We've enjoyed watching the work, done entirely by the guy in the red t-shirt under the watchful eye of our landlord. He doesn't even have a wheel barrow. Or a level.

More of the Thanksgiving Trip

After our walk, our dinner, and our lesson in tin-smithing, we returned to the hotel and a beer on our little patio. The B&B not only had a parrot, but friendly cats as well. These are true tropical cats who will snuggle even in the heat.

In front of our neighbor's casita. The garden was the best we've been in so far here and the pool was small but inviting. I didn't bring my swim suit, thinking we'd not find a place with a pool.

The next morning I beat Kent out of bed and the B&B's breakfast time by a couple of hours, so I took an early morning photo jaunt in a neighborhood that wasn't painted yellow on the edge of town. It's not misty in the following photos. It's smoky. Everyone seemed to be buring something and it didn't dissipate in the still, heavy air.

There were two cheerful old men macheteing down that lovely plant, which they called San Diego. When I said, "Pobre San Diego," they laughed and said he'd grow back quickly.

This traditional Mayan house had a thatched roof under the galvanized (rusted) roof and the rope was thrown over all to hold it together.

After breakfast we took off for Tizimin and a long route home. This sign always makes me laugh. "Don't mistreat the signs." We need something like that in Wyoming, where they are often riddled with bullet holes.

Tizimin's church. Note that in the lower right corner of the picture is the bumper of our car. Kent is doing well as chauffer. The roads were good, in some cases excellent, and the traffic wasn't heavy. There were even signs telling us where we were and where we were headed. We only got lost once. We take the free roads and haven't been disappointed. The toll roads are expensive and cut into our beer money.

And inside the church.

This is a type of delivery trike that I'd never seen before. I call it a 4-wheeled tricycle. The rear, middle wheel is the drive wheel.

The church in Valladolid. It wasn't open.

And another important road sign. "Don't leave Rocks on the Pavement."

Truck drivers, whose trucks are stopped or broken down on the highway, make a detour with large rocks. When the vehicle is repaired, I guess they must leave them for the purpose of breaking other cars. Actually, we've not seen any rocks on the road, but we did in China when we traveled in remote regions.

Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving. We certainly did.

Eduardo Pequeno

I found a tin-ware shop near the turn to our hotel and discovered that the owner, Eduardo Pequeno, not only made lamps, colanders, and containers for human bones, but that he made religious shrines as well.



I think everyone visiting Mexico should have a representation of the Virgin de Guadeloupe and Eduardo had them in elaborate tin surrounds in all sizes.


Unfortunately, the one I wanted didn't have a glass pane where Eduardo thought there had to be one and so I, innocently, asked if he could swap the picture I wanted into a frame of which he approved. He looked a little glum, but said it could be done. I thought he could merely slip one picture out and put the other in, rather like slipping a driver's license out of a wallet, but these little shrines are soldered together. The image of the Virgin was sandwiched between two pieces of glass and then soldered all around the edges, then that sandwich was soldered into the tin shrine. Mine is much smaller than the one Eduard is holding the first picture, but I don't think it makes it any easier to undo and then redo. He has to melt the old solder on both sandwiched Virgins and then resolder. He eventually had to call his wife to help.
Watching his ancient methods of working tin was worth the price of the shrine, but I felt guilty at causing so much work. I don't know whether our limited Spanish is a blessing or a curse. If I'd understood, I'd never have asked him to do it, but we were greatly appreciative of watching him.

Below is the charcoal burner upon which he heats his soldering irons. The shiny stick on the low table is the solder and the baby food jar holds the flux, which he dips out with a stick.

The objects he makes are rough, but have great charm.

Thanksgiving in Izamal

For Thanksgiving, we treated ourselves to a vacation and went to one of the prettiest little cathedral towns in the Yucatan. I won't give you the history as you can google Izamal or Yucatan Today and get more and better information than I can give you. Isn't retirement great when we can take a holiday from vacation?

On our way we passed hennequin plantations--the most important plant of the region. It's grown to make sisal, now most often used in hammocks, but not so much the rope as it was in the past.

We passed a cemetery someplace between Merida and Izamal.

I wouldn't mind being buried here. The place seems friendly and human. The little houses are about as tall as I am. The streets are swept and the houses (tombs) nicely painted. There are benches for visitors and street lights for nightime.

We got to Izamal and found our B&B set in a great tropical graden with casitas for rooms located throughout the grounds. The one below was ours. Oddly, it was decorated inside with southwest themes--Kokopelis, saguaro cactus, and branding irons.

Oscar, the parrot, whose large cage borders the dining room/lobby, was always ready for handouts.

The Yucatecan ladies, especially those about my age, often wear traditional dress.

Izamal street.

Door on east ramp up to the church.








Kent on the east ramp up to the church with the ceiling of the cloister above.

Man walking, seen from above.

Door at end of east cloister.

West cloister.

Church towers amidst TV aerials and water tanks.

Front entrance.

The church (Convento de Izamal) was begun by Franciscans in 1553 over the site of a Mayan pyramid and many of the Mayan stones were used in its construction.

There are several other pyramids still fairly intact in Izamal. Enough that every neighborhood has its own.

We visited the artesan museum where modern craftsmen from around all of Mexico display their interpretations of traditional themes.

Fridas from Frida's paintings in clay.

La Katrina--a paper mache, larger-than-life death figure. If you've been keeping up with the blog, you've seen her before with Kent at the Xalapa archeological museum's coffee shop.

I do like the Mexican approach to death--cheerful and funny and fearless.

Old Women in Izamal.

I wish the light had been better here, but this fruit seller at the market was in a shady corner. I've had to adjust the picture, unmercifully, in PhotoShop to bring out her features. If I had more nerve as a photographer, I would ask these women to pose and pay a fee. I find them immensely handsome.

A sadder woman.

And La Gringa awaiting her Thanksgiving Day dinner.