1,400 miles from Lukevill, AZ, crossing to San Miguel de Allende, our principal destination in Mexico.
The Way to San Miguel
From the moment we crossed the border at Lukeville, AZ, on All Hallows’ Eve last October, we knew that our objective ultimo was San Miguel de Allende. Everywhere else were stops along the way.
¡Y Finalmente Estamos Aquí!
In some ways anticipating a return to SMA seems like a visit to an old friend. That sounds clichéd, I know, but there’s no way we can deny the powerful sense of familiarity that pervades practically every moment we spend in San Miguel—and in very definable ways. Some of them pleasant, others not so much.
Old friends change, obviously. People and places never stay the same. And whenever we try to match perceptions from the past with the realities of the present, no doubt we’re in for a big surprise. In the back of our minds we wonder how our old friend has changed. Maybe that magic we remember so well is gone.
La Bella y la Bestia.
Not so. From the moment we first entered the city limits of SMA, any doubts about el magico fell to the wayside; in all of its complexities, contradictions, and paradoxes, the magic of San Miguel was there still in all its raucous glory.
True the reality of these complexities, contradictions, and paradoxes can be painful: feral dogs, wandering streets and alleyways hungry, many old and sick, without homes; old women who sit on stoned paved sidewalks, their heads hidden, beneath shawls, with hands outstretched, holding plastic cups, hoping for a few pesos; children wandering the Jardin in the Plaza Principal, beneath the grand opulence of the Parroquia de San Miguel Arcángel, looking for gringos, boxes full of Chiclets at the ready for selling to any willing tourist; very young and very poor women cradling tiny babies in their arms, tightly wrapped in blankets, selling tiny bags of candies to anyone who will take the time to buy them; and street musicians wandering the main square, singing and playing guitar for tips.
One of dozens of San Miguel street musicians trying to earn a living playing music for the tourists. The red ball in the picture is a microphone, not a nose. Street musicians are an integral part of San Miguel street culture.
But the complexities, contradictions, and paradoxes can also be illuminating: existing alongside the often disturbing social ills of San Miguel are the magnificent, magical public parks and squares; the truly stunning colonial buildings that have occupied the same space in the city for 400 hundred years; the cobble-stone streets lined with brilliantly colored stucco buildings, many with roof-top terraces lined with clay pots full of plants and flowers, and the Gothic-looking rainwater downspouts or scuppers that during summer rain storms just barely carry the water over the pedestrians below; and countless restaurants that seem to be around every corner, offering every possible cuisine that a person could ever imagine.
Looking north on Aldama. In the background the La Parroquia de San Miguel parish church with crowning cross on top of the steeple. In the foreground, one of the two domes that form the Parroquia complex. Many of the streets sharply incline toward el centro, creating a strange, magical sort of perspective, as illustrated in this photo.
Much of the architectural wonders in San Miguel include details such as these Gothic looking scuppers.
Día de la Candelaria
And in the middle of all of this we arrive on on February 2, Día de la Candelaria (Candlemas Day), a religious holiday that marks the 40th day after the birth of Jesus. Everywhere are special masses all day long that involve the blessing of seeds for fertility and the lighting of candles, representing the light of the world. Día de la Candelaria is the unofficial beginning of spring. Notably, church bells in every Colonia loudly peal the beginning, middle, and end of holiday; the streets of San Miguel are crowded with pedestrians, food carts, and cars that are often double-parked because there is not enough parking. And into the middle of all this raucous activity, on a Sunday afternoon, we arrive at Weber’s Tennis Courts and RV Park.
Rocinante on the right. The actual RV park is very small and limited to smaller campers, vans, and “overlanders,” campers used by international travelers from Europe mostly.
Our camper looks like it’s crammed into a small space but there is actually quite a bit of room on either side of us.
The campground actually sits in between three beautifully maintained clay tennis courts. Every morning about 8 am the tennis players start to arrive and I can hear the sounds of tennis rackets hitting tennis balls, which, to an old tennis player, coach, is a kind of music to my ears.
Camped here virtually in the center of San Miguel we have no need of a car. Everything is within walking distance and if not, there are taxis everywhere and buses go up and down Calle de Anche every ten minutes. But Jackie, Louie and I walk everywhere.
I started taking Spanish lessons again at the Instituto Allende, which is right across the street. The lessons are two hours a day in the morning for four weeks and there is a total of one other person in the class. Instruction is more like personal tutoring.
Spanish classroom interior with metal door and metal framed windows which look out onto a beautiful courtyard.
Break. Glass board shows current lesson on Spanish demonstrative pronouns. With only one other student beside myself, there are lots of opportunities for personal instruction.
A portion of one of the murals painted on the walls of the interior courtyard that leads to classrooms on the right and the garden courtyards through the passageway as seen in the lower left.
The murals are very dramatic and remind me very much of William Blake’s art.
It’s easy to believe that San Miguel is a city created for photographers. A simple walk bears this out. Everywhere you turn there is a sight worthy of a photograph.
I came across this storefront selling old vinyl LPs. In this case a copy of The Rolling Stones 1964 album 12×5. It turned out as a sort of self-portrait. I was holding the camera waist high, giving me an image of my shadow, the album, and the street behind me. Completely unplanned. In Mexico everything is about serendipity and accidental discovery.
Everywhere you turn are gimmicks, oddities, and curiosities—such as this unusual business that combines good haircuts with good booze.
Platerias are everywhere in San Miguel, selling amazing silver works of art such as this calavera emblazoned belt buckle that I had my eye on. Handmade, selling for $600 American dollars, probably a pretty good price considering the amazing detail.
Photographer in the foreground shadow I thought made for an interesting picture. In the background is the Jardin and the Plaza Principal.
There is a lot more to come.
Call and Response 