Today, upon the advice of our wise host Heidi at Casa de la Cuesta, we went to see the Institute de Allende. Way back in the 1700s, it was a vast summer hacienda for a wealthy colonial family. Then it became a famous art school, and part of the building remains an art school today. There are also studios and galleries for an assortment of artists. The view from the Institute’s back patio is beautiful:

The art school is in the back of the building, with the studios scattered throughout amazing gardens. Mexico is covered in flowers.

There are murals in the Institute’s courtyards and hallways:

On the sidewalk out in front of the Institute, two marimba players were performing. They invited Val to join in and play along. How did it sound? Let’s just say she needs to stick to art as a career choice.

From the Institute, we walked back toward the center of town along narrow cobblestone streets lined with tiny, inviting shops and businesses. You enter through a narrow doorway out on the sidewalk and the shops are dark, deep and crammed full of interesting things. We found one that sold all kinds of old religious artifacts and antique wooden doors. (Actually, some of the doors also qualified as religious artifacts because they had saints intricately carved on them. They were beautiful old doors, and there were hundreds and hundreds that have come from city casas and country haciendas over the past few hundred years.)  Mark found an interesting old retablo, which is a sort of painted thank-you note to a saint who has answered a prayer for healing, or protection, or employment, or other things someone needed and prayed for. After the prayer was answered, they painted a picture of the request and wrote their thanks with the date and their name. Mark’s retablo showed a poor fellow being tossed into the air by a bull, and the handwritten note described an answered prayer to the Virgin of San Jose for some healing after an unfortunate incident involving “los cornados del toro furioso” (the horns of a furious bull). It was painted in bright colors on a piece of tin in 1950.  As is traditional here, Mark started haggling over the price with the shopkeeper, Esteban, who soon became Mark’s best buddy and, in fact, now claims to be Mark’s long-lost brother. Here are the brothers together, showing off the retablo:

We started the day by exploring the streets, markets and the biblioteca (the library, which is where all the gringos go to find out what’s scheduled for the next several days). Here are some pictures from the part of town not too far from our casa. First, a shrine outside the Mercado de las Artisanas (Artisan Market)…

There are shrines to various saints all over town. The old women cross themselves as they pass by (you can see that happening here.) Some shrines are very elaborate, and some are very humble. The Virgin of Guadalupe is a popular saint here, and most of the statues show her with brown skin and dark hair. The MOST popular saint is the one the city is named after, St. Michael. He wears armor and waves a sword.

 Some of the old women who sit in the square wear traditional brightly colored, handwoven shawls and long dresses.

This evening, we went to what was advertised as a horse show starting at 5pm. It actually turned out to be an exhibition of classical Spanish dressage (very highly refined riding movements, the same thing the Lippizan horses do). And it actually started around 8pm, which is not unusual here. Things are very relaxed, and people work very hard and then just generally enjoy themselves and things happen when they happen. The horse show was held in the Plaza del Toros, the bullfight arena. There were six beautiful Andalusian horses and the riders were in charro costume, with big sombreros and lots of flashy trim. The interesting thing about the program was that, in addition to the riding, there was a mariachi band (the same one we saw in the square) playing in the background and several singers who would get on the horses from time to time and sing a passionate Spanish song to the crowd, who all clapped and sang along.

 

There were also commercial breaks, because the horse show was sponsored by El Presidente brandy, so an announcer came out periodically to encourage everyone to drink El Presidente. Here are some pictures from the horse show:

 

During the last part of the horse show/mariachi concert/singalong, the announcer came out and taught everyone in the audience to do the wave. There was an enthusiastic response as old and young, Mexican and American, everyone joined in. As a University of Alabama grad and accomplished expert Crimson Tide football game wave-doer, Mark set a good example of wave form for all the audience members. Here’s the Mexican wave:

Roll Tide!  Ole’!

Okay, don’t ask us to explain this one. There was a man walking among the festival crowds with a large, furry animal on his shoulder. He moved the thing around and grabbed at it as if it was trying to climb up his arm, and he was petting it and offering to let OTHER people pet it. Upon closer inspection, however, it was clear that it was a very large and very deceased squirrel. (I know there’s a Monty Python skit here somewhere.) We don’t know if this is a mysterious cultural practice, or if this was just a very strange man. You be the judge.

Life is very hard here. We are really roughing it, as is apparent from this photo of Mark hard at work in a lush Spanish colonial courtyard while his three-course breakfast is being prepared by the casa’s talented Mexican cooks. (The breakfast menu changes each day, but on this particular morning it was: three kinds of fresh yogurt with fruit, a big bowl of MORE fruit, tasty sauces, baked artisan bread with delicious carmelized goat milk, cheese quesadillas with chocolate mole’ sauce, fresh-squeezed orange juice, coffee, eggs over easy with three kinds of chile sauce and pico de gallo. It’s hard to walk after one the breakfasts here. Mmmmm.)

I promised Ahma I’d post a picture of the view from the rooftop cactus garden. This is what you see from our balcony:

Last night (Thursday) we walked down to the Centro, which is the square in the middle of town, to see the Alborada review. Thousands of people come in from the surrounding areas for an evening of music and traditional dances by indigenous tribes from different villages. There were also fireworks, roasted corn vendors, a parade honoring the archangel Saint Michael (for whom the city is named) and strolling mariachi bands. We were very impressed by this all-night celebration with colorful plumed costumes, pennants and banners all over town, and festivities late into the night… then, this morning we found out that what we attended was actually the PRACTICE FESTIVAL for the real Feast Day of St. Michael, which is NEXT weekend. Yay! More roasted corn.

Here are some of the beautiful and (to Alabamians) exotic sights offered by last night’s festival:

Here is the Parrochia, the parish church, rising above the Centro where the festival was held. One of the 273 churches in the city, the Parrochia looks like a gothic cathedral because the Mexican builder who designed it long ago was inspired by pictures of cathedrals he saw on postcards from Europe.

Here are some of the local dancers in traditional costumes.

There were dancers of all ages. The children in this part of the country are very beautiful, with big brown eyes and dark hair.

The parade was about to get under way when Mark shot this picture of one happy little marcher. There were also some very tall papier-mache’ figures with little guys inside,  peeking out of the midsection of these decorated characters. Everyone was having fun.

After the parade departed up the hill, we walked into the Centro to hear the mariachi bands. These very dashing fellows (and an occasional young lady) would gather around and perform a passionate rendition of a Spanish ballad just for you, for the bargain rate of 100 pesos (ten dollars). Who could pass up that kind of offer? Here are the muy guapo mariachi musicians taking a break between numbers:

…and here’s the whole ensemble, right after they performed a very heartfelt rendition of a famous Mexican love song, Besame Mucho (Kiss Me A Bunch — well, not that exact wording, but you get the idea) just for us! Que romatica!

One of the most memorable things we witnessed in the festival crowd deserves a post of its very own. So, read on…

The slogan of the Mexican government tourism board is “Mexico: It’s closer than you think.” After our surprisingly short and easy journey from Mobile to San Miguel, I have to agree with them. Our little Contintental commuter jet took off at 6:45 and landed just over an hour later in Houston. We had a one-hour layover, during which Mark exchanged some dollars for pesos, then another short plane ride to the airport at Leon (in the state of Guanajuato, Mexico). Our smiling driver, Xavier, loaded us into his very nice car and off we went on the 100-mile ride through mountains and rocky canyons to San Miguel. Mark bravely sat in the front, where he had an up-close view of the terrifying drop-offs which Xavier effortlessly navigated at a constant 65-70mph, often driving mere inches from the rear bumper of other vehicles we encountered along the way. Being in the back seat, I could look out at the incredibly beautiful valleys and mountainsides that comprise this state, the geographical center of the nation of Mexico. Around 1pm, we entered San Miguel and pulled up on the steep, narrow cobblestone street outside Casa de la Cuesta. Here are a few photos of the casa, and some sights we saw when we went for a walk on our first day in town:

Above is our sitting room, full of Mexican art and artifacts. Below is the bedroom…

…and outside are a private patio and a rooftop cactus garden: