Down the hallway

ON THE BIG plaza yesterday, I had a nice café Americano negro with a vanilla muffin that I bought in a pastry shop near the San Juan Church and Hospital.

After the café Americano negro, I walked to the other side of the plaza to buy a little lemon ice. It’s just like they sell in New Orleans but at a lower price here, of course.

About 5:30 p.m. it was, and the plaza was full of happy-looking people. There was no gunfire, no grenades. The air was clear and cool, and the towering ash trees rustled.

The fountains made water sounds, and the pigeons crapped on the heads of long-dead heroes and priests who — being stone — just stood there and took it.

I drove the Honda home. As I walked through the Hacienda’s downstairs hallway toward the closet to slip on my PJs, I noticed the mask that was bathed in light from a large glass brick in the ceiling, which is the terraza floor above.

maskThis is the mask of a viejito, an old man. There are dance troupes in our area who perform for tourists.

dollThis doll would get me kicked out of modish households in the United States. The skull face is cut from metal.

boat
The hull is made of something that sloughed off a palm tree.

We bought this boat on a pier in Zihuatanejo. It brings back memories of happy days in sunshine and blue seas with a beautiful woman who spoke to me in Spanish.

12 thoughts on “Down the hallway”

    1. Angeline: Well, muchas gracias, young lady. This is the kind of stuff I used to write on my old website, The Zapata Tales, before I went and got all political and stuff. Shame on me.

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  1. I have a Viejito purchased there. My wife will not allow it in the house. I hang it in the garage. We had visitors from the lovely country immediately to the north of the USA and took them to watch the dancers in the plaza on a Sunday, as they declared it creepy, and wanted to leave.

    I always enjoyed and sought out the experience of Mexican culture and folklore. Those of us from NOB don’t have the respect for, or much opportunity to learn from, the indigenous people of our countries.

    I revel in the stories of weird cultural experiences I had there. I made my own niche, bricks and mortar, painted it, decorated it and kept candles lit. Mexican wannabe.

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    1. Kris: I have never heard of anyone reacting to the viejitos in this way.

      You Canucks are an odd bunch. Well, aside from you, it seems.

      Perhaps you should do as I did 16 years ago. Chuck it all, pack two suitcases and move to Mexico alone. Give it some thought. Worked out stupendously for me.

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      1. I have a strange bond with my wife that keeps me here. In explanation, they were legal aliens from the UK, who spend a couple of months a year in between Puerto Vallarta and Mazatlan. Who knows what freaks someone out?

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        1. Kris: Ah, Limeys. That can be even worse.

          As for your bond with your wife, I thought I had one with my last wife, but turned out I didn’t. Her choice. You never know what’s gonna happen.

          By the way, that last wife wishes she had the bond with me again, but I don’t wish it at all.

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