IT'S A JUNGLE OUT THERE

Behind my building is a block wide vacant lot.  There are the remains of what must have been a couple of small brick or adobe houses, but no one lives there except the cats.  Many people here complain about the roosters that crow at dawn every morning.  If there ever were chickens out there, the cats long ago took care of them.  Of course  with those G.D. bells, who would notice a rooster.    If you ignore all the junk that has been dumped in the lot (including an old truck), all you see is a jungle of trees and vines.  Once the summer rains start, it will be much prettier as the rain washes all the dust away.  I kind of like it because it means no neighbors. It also affords me a clear view of the mountains.  A strange jungle vine crawled up the wall  from three stories below that I have trained  across the beam on my cabana.  It is growing out of a crack in concrete.  Since it has not rained since October, I have no idea how it lives at all, but I am hoping it will have some kind of flower on it before it dies.

There are a couple of huge mango trees, a couple of lime trees  and some papaya trees as well.  Unfortunately the area is completely walled in by ten foot brick walls. so I can't get to the fruit.    There are iron gates at each end which would open on to the two streets, but they are always locked.  One day I saw two kids somehow wiggle through the wrought iron gates into the property.  One climbed the mango tree which must be 40 feet tall and either ;picked and threw down the fruit, or just knocked if off the branches.  
  It is all owned by the Rizo family who own my building as well as huge blocks of land all over the South Side (south of the River Caule).  Rumor has it that they are property poor.  They either won't sell, or ask too much money for the land.  Some of it may be tied up in legal battles, as my apartment is actually owned by a woman who has been dead for ten years.

You may recall my story of the cat who ate my coffee cake from a few months ago.  Now that summer is coming I have started leaving  the guest bedroom window open for the cool breezes that waft down from the mountains.  Yes, I am occasionally visited by one of the cats.  I have not seen him (or her) but I periodically have to clean the dirty paw prints off the wall below the window.  I could just close my door and turn on the air conditioning, but I am trying to keep my electric bill low.  It has been running about 250 pesos a month (about $20.00) as opposed to the 7,000 bill I got at my previous apartment.  Only a small animal could crawl through the wrought iron grill and the cats don't seem to do any damage anyway.

One night I got up to pee.  I leave a small night light plugged in so in my sleep (or drunken condition) I don't miss the ten inch step going into my bathroom.  I suddenly became aware of something black and large just a few inches from my toe.  Slowly I backed up and switched on the lights.  There was a hairy spider almost as large as my hand.  People have told me that it is not a tarantula, but it is a very scary looking creature.  It too must have crawled in through the open window.    I carefully removed one sandal and tried to swat it.  I could not believe how fast it could climb up the tile wall.  Then as I continued to swat at it, I found that it could also jump.

If I hadn't been half asleep, maybe I would have been too cautious to continue going after it.  But then on the other hand I do not think I could have slept knowing that thing was crawling around in my apartment.  I finally got it, but not before grabbing my camera and getting a picture to it.  I also carried in my yard stick to show how big it was.  After knocking it down and crunching it again with my sandal, I got some bug spray and finished him off.  Oddly, I went right back to sleep, leaving the carcass to be carried out the following morning. 

I have previously commented on how surprised I am, at the lack of insects here.  Now I know that we not only have iguanas here eating them, but huge spiders as well.  Yes, the window is still open  Perhaps I like living dangerously.  It seems that all my life I have tempted fate, but I am still here!


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LA PARROQUIA DE LA SANTA CRUZ

As Mexican churches go, this one has to be the ugliest that I have ever seen.  It looks more like a fire station  house or a warehouse than a church, other than the fairly attractive Italianate bell tower.   Who knows what the architect had in mind, or maybe it really was a fire house and they just added the tower to it.  The interior looks more like a regular Mexican church with all the plaster sculpture along the walls, but even the alter is very plain.  You have to picture it without all the flowers that were brought in just for the celebration.

Every church in Mexico has its own patron saint.  My church's saint is Santa Cruz  (who ever that may be) and is celebrated the first week of May (and what a celebration it is).  About a week before, each morning I would find more carnival like kids rides being dropped on my street.  Eventually the whole street was closed to traffic.  It is a really Big Deal here (much to my chagrin and discomfort).  It must have a large following for the church is packed to overflowing for each service every day (or maybe they are all the same people).   They have celebrations all year (when those G.D. bells clang away), one was at 3:00 in the morning.  I have no idea what it was about either.  Sometimes there is a wedding.  Only at very big wedding do they ring all the bells (it must depend on how much money they give the priest).

It started on a Friday night when I heard Indians drums beating.  There was a group of people dressed in feathers and capes doing some sort of a dance outside the cathedral doors.  Then they all marched in.  What the Indian dancers had to do with the saint will remain another mystery.  The next time a larger group lined up out side chanting and all carrying flowers.  Then the Indians came back and did their dance before the service every night (lots of drums and noise).  The Catholic Church in Mexico is a mixture of pagan rituals and superstitions.

  Every night for seven days, the carnival rides were open.  Directly below my balcony was the Ferris wheel.   I actually enjoyed watching the kids on the dozen or so rides, even though many of them scream a lot.  What really bothered me (other than the bells and cannon blast) was the loud speaker blasting away directly at my bedroom.  I think they are supposed to cut it off at 11:00 at night, but they do not (sleeping pills help a lot).  I was amused by the cotton candy man.  He had what looked like a round barbeque with a gas jet in the center.  Some how strings of candy are blown up through it.  He just holds a stick over the hole and in a minute it is a big stick of cotton candy.  Of course what misses the stick is just blown up into the air.  You can just grab a piece, if you are so inclined.

The big day was the 3rd of May (I think the saint's birthday) which occurred on the following Friday.  There were huge crowds in the streets and four blocks in both directions were blocked off.  In front of the church they set up a strange looking edifice that looked like it was made of steel and bamboo.  Later that night is sudden rose to a height of three stories.  It was the fire works display.  I invited two friends over to watch it and my what a night it was.  All the bells going and the cannon blasts.  Booths had bee n set up for blocks selling trinkets or food.  (That is my friend Filipe in front of the food court).   Also lots of little stands were set up for different types of gambling (no one cares here).  We waited forever and finally some time after 11:00 at night they started the fireworks.  The tower was rigged with spinning wheels that were set off one at a time.  Then it finally reached to top and Roman candles went off into the sky.  Sorry, but with my camera all I got was a big white blur for the final bust of fire. 

The sparks and fire fell back into the crowds and actually ignited some dead vines growing on the roof of the restaurant across from the church.  Bells, cannon blasts and rockets went on for a long time.  It was nice being able to watch it all from three stories above the streets.  The kids loved it.  One night my favorite bar tender (and very good friend) Filipe, brought over his little boy.  He is only 18 months old and quite a handful for the mother (whom Filipe never married).  Another couple came with them and she too was pregnant, and unmarried.  They often never marry the mothers of their children. Although I must say that Filipe is a wonderful father.  He is also just an all around good guy.  He has been a great help to me ever since I moved here.  He helped with all my moves and handles things like translating with government agencies and utility companies.    After little Ian had his fill of the rides they all came up for some beers.   I am glad they were not here for the final night because the crowds were so huge and I think all the noise would have frightened little Ian.

The morning after the big night I awoke to find all the rides were gone.  I guess it is easier to move them in the middle of the night with less traffic.  Shortly a man arrived and swept up all the debris and you would never have known anything had gone on.  It was entertaining, but if it went on all month, I would have to move.  As it is I only have to put up with the constant bell ringing.  A half hour before each service the bells ring 22 times. then fifteen minutes later 24 bells, and finally at the beginning of the service 26 bells.  Do not ask why so many bells, no one knows.  Much of Mexico is a mystery (maybe that is why I find living here so interesting). 



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