Bag of Lemonade, Cup of Corn

It has been hot here in Guanajuato - 90+ degrees fahrenheit. A bag of cold lemonade in the shade of the jardín offers the perfect relief. Fruity aguas in a bag are popular here: the vendor in the Michoacana ice cream store ladles the juice from a big, ice-filled vat and pours it into a plastic bag. It is a fun and surprisingly handy way to take a drink.

But the elote is easiest to eat from a cup. Corn on the cob is another popular street food: slathered with cream or mayonnaise and sprinkled with hot chiles. On the cob it is messy. The kernels shaved into a cup are easier to manage. But any way you eat it, it is tasty.

As we near the end of our stay here in Guanajuato, we are busy eating our way through the streets, tasting the ubiquitous street foods that we have not yet tried. Still on the list: Dorilocos - a bag of Doritos cut open, the chips topped with some combination of cabbage, chiles, cheese, lime juice, hot sauce. Do we dare?!

Aves

". . . the magic of birds, how they bridge cultures and continents with their wings, how they mediate between heaven and earth."
- Terry Tempest Williams, Refuge

As the sun rose pink above the Sierra de Santa Rosa, we followed Chava through the encino trees and brushy meadows, looking and listening for birds. We learned new names for familiar friends: the robin is primavera; the barn swallow is golondrina. And Chava introduced us to new birds: the carpintero melanerpes formicivorus (acorn woodpecker) with its red-capped head and gleaming black back; the ojito de lumbre junco phaeonotus (yellow-eyed junco) with its red-splashed back and bright eye set in yellow. And I thought of the red-winged blackbirds and the sandhill cranes calling out to the morning along Silver Creek, at home.

Variations on the Theme of Tacos

Start with one corn tortilla, thick and the size of a small plate - or two small thin ones, doubled-up. Fill them with seasoned meats, shredded or diced - beef bistek or arrachera or barbacoa or lengua (tongue), or fried fish or shrimp, or pork cochinita pibil or pastor (my favorite, with a nick of pineapple). Top them with a combination of fresh cilantro, onions, red or green salsa, guacamole, and always a squeeze of limón. Fold them in half. Eat three, or four, or five. . . . ¡Provecho!

Teatro Juarez

¡Nos encontramos en la escalera de Teatro Juarez!
Let's meet on the steps of Teatro Juarez!

This grandiose building, fronted by a long set of steps, stately columns, and statues of the muses, sits at one end of Guanajuato's central plaza. Its steps provide a perfect meeting place. It was built at the beginning of the 1900s, in the latter part of Porfirio Diaz's thirty year reign as president of México, and it reflects his extravagance. Inside, the theater is lush with intricate copper railings, red carpets, gleaming wooden seats, and glowing lights.

On Saturday night, we attended a performance by the a capella group Voz en Punto. They sang traditional Mexican songs and jazz classics and the wonderful Bésame Mucho. I felt like I should be dressed in silk and pearls and perhaps a feathered boa.

More Reading Lists

Over the past 16 weeks, the students in my literature class at the Universidad de Guanajuato have read The Professor's House by Willa Cather, Angle of Repose by Wallace Stegner, The Chinchilla Farm by Judith Freeman, and Refuge by Terry Tempest Williams. They have also expanded my own reading list, as they have told me about the research they are doing for their licenciatura and maestría theses. Just a few of the recommended authors and works include:

Amadis de Gaula (14th century; unknown author, though partly attributed to Garci Rodriguez de Montalvo) - A story of chivalric romance in Spain. This work is not Mexican, but one of my students is studying the medieval literature of knights and chivalry, based, of course, in Spanish literature. This book precedes and is satirized in Don Quijote.

Gilberto Owen (1904-1952; Sinaloa, México) - poet (and diplomat!); part of the Mexican poetic school called "los contemporáneos." Poetry collections include Perseo vencido (1948).

Juan José Arreola (1918-2001; Jalisco, México) - a master of the short story, known for his experimental language and use of fantasy and magical realism. One prominent collection of his short stories is Confabulario (1952).

Inés Arredondo (1928-1989; Sinaloa, México) - perhaps the greatest Mexican woman short-story writer of the 20th century, and yet my student who is writing her thesis on this author cannot obtain her books - they are largely out of print - and so this student is working from photocopies. One short story collection is Río subteráneo (1979).

And right now I am reading El llano en llamas (The Field in Flames, 1953) by Juan Rulfo, which is considered one of the most important works in Mexican literature. The short stories are set in the dry, rugged, and lonely countryside of Jalisco, México, and they relate desperate tales of the campesinos at the time of the Mexican revolution and la Guerra Cristera. They are haunting stories, sometimes darkly humorous, that cast an unflinching eye on rural poverty and forgotten people.

You Never Know When You'll See a Burro. . .

The burros work hard in Guanajuato. We see them on the hillsides, highways, and narrow callejónes. They carry all kinds of burdens: bundles of sticks and piles of bags of soil. Their large brown eyes look patiently ahead.

A Mexican legend tells of two famous professors from México City at the turn of the century visiting a pueblo in order to conduct meteorological studies. They note that the town is populated by more burros than people, and that the animals are treated with great respect. They find this quaint - but then the professors discover that the burros can predict the weather more accurately than they can. For example, one burro enters the stable and neighs three times when it is going to rain, and he is always right. The story ends with the rhyme: "A, E, I, O, U / El burro sabe / más que tú" (the burro knows more than you).

La Ley de Herodes

It is 1949, and a very low-level, loyal, and innocuous political party member is promoted from his job as a janitor to a municipal mayor in a remote and dusty town (that he has never seen), where a series of mayors have met a brutal demise from their constituents. The new mayor arrives eager and innocent, with intentions to close the brothel and re-build the school. But power seduces him. . . . This Mexican political satire, a 1999 film, is comic and tragic, and it seems to resonate with people across socioeconomic strata - and it applies just as well to politics in other parts of the world. "Herod's Law" - loosely translated from the crass slang saying in Spanish - means that one way or another, you get screwed.