I COULD HAVE told them a year ago, perhaps two, this would happen. But they waited until it did. Good that nobody died.
Over many months, during our morning walks, it was like watching that finale in Sam Peckinpah’s The Wild Bunch: slow-motion mayhem.
Finally, the roof perished completely. Collapse!
This end of our neighborhood plaza possibly dates from the 16th century. Lordy knows how long that roof had rested there. But then it decided on a total siesta. Adiós and goodbye.
They’ve been working on it for a few weeks now, slowly at first but picking up speed, and before long it will look as it did way back when Cortés walked around the middle of Mexico.
Or not long after.
AS PROMISED yesterday, I climbed atop the kitchen/storefront lavatory and shot these photos. Above is our front street. I went for a Sam Peckinpah effect because I wanted it to look like an old Mexico movie.
Of course, Peckinpah’s actual movies were in color to accentuate the abundant blood flow.
Not much in the way of traffic out there, which is normal. This was photographed yesterday around 10 a.m. Sometimes there are men on horseback, plus the occasional burro.
In the distance, you can see trees on the right side of the street. That’s our local plaza, and it’s just 1.5 blocks away. Earth-shaking concerts are held there about eight nights a year. These events are inspired by stuff like saints, virgins and season change. We sleep with silicone earplugs on those nights.
About two years ago, a big blow, quite a storm, uprooted nine trees in the plaza, about a third of those present. It was never reported as a tornado, but I’m convinced it was.
Doing a 180, you’re facing the sex motel next door. I wouldn’t want you to miss that. You can see into the rooms, especially that first one. Those are the bed pillows. A similar direct view is available from the house’s upstairs terraza, and folks occasionally leave the curtains open, to their dismay if I show up.
The sex motel is a fun neighbor.
(Note: Coming up tomorrow. Nairobi lesbians!)