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Archive for the ‘Spirituality’ Category

You know this is more for me than for you, right? It’s a convenient way to “file” these things. So here they are, all in one place. Click on the images to get to the page.

By Month:

2021 highlights here.

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I did this last year (Here’s one post, with links to all the others.) It’s a way for me to sort through things, retrieve ideas that might work for longer pieces in other spaces, make me feel horrible about my terrible memory (did I write that?) and so on. I don’t include posts on saints or travel here. The saints because I tend to re-run them, no apologies, and the travel posts because they are collected here. Gender-related posts here.  Book and movie takes, as well as links to other monthly highlights, at the end of this post.

Lots of travel in June – to England and Scotland. Those posts are here.

All June posts here.


There is a temptation, when considering these experiences – the ecstatic concerts (or sporting events), the immersive, interactive games and other kinds of role-playing experiences like cosplay on which people spend untold hours of their time and lots of money – and to think that religion is missing out, in a way. That feeling at the Garth concert? Do you ever get anything like that in church? What the larping and gaming and cosplaying experience adds to your life? Shouldn’t church give that to you instead – or at least, also?

Questions which then can inspire church leaders to either condemn or – more likely these days – jump on bandwagons, something we’ve seen over and over (through history, not just recently) – taking what seems to grab people in the culture, baptizing it, hoping to bring that same kind of engagement, investment, and emotion to the Lord – where it properly belongs, right?

Maybe not. Maybe the better answer is to observe all of this – and whatever it is that people seem to feel connected to and inspired by – and ask questions instead.

So, when consumers of mass media and spiritual seekers and tourists virtually approach the online evanginfluencers expecting and demanding “openness” and “authenticity” and almost claiming a place in their role model’s lives, they’re putting them in a spot. Yes, it’s a spot most of them have cleared out for themselves and settled in, happily, Patreon button at the ready, but everyone has a role to play here, everyone’s responsible in their own way.

Keep saying we’re one body in Christ, sure. Keep saying we take care of each other, that we’re here to help each other to sainthood and holiness.

How is encouraging, expecting, and paying for another person to put their lives on public display as your spiritual food helping them?

As I have said many times, I’m a student of social movements – my graduate work was focused on 19th century feminism and American Christianity – and I am no stranger to the ins and outs and evolution and fractures in any and all movements, including the pro-life movement. In any movement, you will always have disagreements on process, emphasis and goals. In the American pro-life movement, the serious disagreements have been centered on support of legislation and politicians: is supporting half-measures a sell-out or just realistic politics? And of course, a fundamental disagreement about process: should politics or culture be emphasized? You can trace these disagreements back decades.

But there’s never been any disagreement that helping women and their children is central to the pro-life movement. And this is what is so annoying about those in the Catholic world who are busy declaring, Well, ackshually, pro-lifers (eew) you DO know that just because Roe is gone…that doesn’t mean abortion is going to end tomorrow, RIGHT? Ackshually….you DO know that the REAL work starts now, right?

They were handing out cards to those on the street (and there were a lot – this was one of Oxford’s main streets on a busy Sunday afternoon) – cards which explained what this was all about, with contact information.

As Pope Benedict said on nearly every occasion of a Corpus Christi procession during his papacy – this is a moment in which we do what we are called to do all the time – take Christ out into the world that needs Him so badly. Taking that one, very small step further – of actively inviting and engaging the curiosity and interest witnessing the procession might inspire – is, yes, brilliant.

But do you know what else these homilies had in common, aside from being just good, substantive, practical and oh yes, under fifteen minutes long?

They were both written.

Oh, there were moments in which the homilist did a bit of improv and added a thought or two, but for the most part, both seem to have kept to what they had written.

I’ll be honest. I’ve never heard an off-the-cuff homily that was worth a dime. I know that homilists can be all Oh, the Holy Spirit will guide me and it will be awesome…but real talk here. Most of the time, guys…it’s not. The risk of meandering self-indulgence is super high if the homily isn’t written down and presented pretty much exactly as planned.


January 2022 Highlights

February 2022 Highlights

March 2022 Highlights

April 2022 Highlights

May 2022 Highlights

June 2022 Highlights

July/August 2022 Highlights

September 2022 Highlights

October 2022 Highlights

November and December 2022 Highlights

Books of 2022

Movies and Television of 2022

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All April 2022 posts here.

Lots of history this month. The reason is that I’d been asked to do a presentation for our Cathedral adult education program on the Church in the Deep South, so why not share the wealth?

Here’s a link to the slide element of the presentation – I think it should be accessible, but I’m sure someone will let me know if it’s not.


So to live in the present, respectful of the past but not burdened by it? How?

That seems to me a key to spiritual wholeness, and how we treat the objects we inherit can be expressive of our inner disposition. The healthy place is neither casual dismissal or mournful clinging. The healthy place prioritizes the present, informed by, but not controlled by the past.

And when you shake loose, you might be surprised to find how faulty your understanding was all along.

I have a very hard time seeing how a persona-centered “outreach” can be squared with the Gospel call to humility.

The saints are a varied lot. They are extroverts. Introverts. rich, poor, young, old. artists, queens. beggars. scholars, and doorkeepers. But all of them, Catherine included, embody authentic humility. Their sense of a life well-lived challenges mine. Success? Achievement? Opportunity? Talents? I some-times wonder how to navigate all of those values, especially as a disciple of Jesus. I’m here on earth right now. I’m willing and able. What am I supposed to do and how am I supposed to figure it out? In Catherine. I get a glimpse of another landscape, one not that far away after all, one peopled by those who know the truth of who they are, how precious and yet how small; who know their own weaknesses; and who know that God’s infinite strength is as close as their own fiat.

Drawn from the Cathedral presentation:


January 2022 Highlights

February 2022 Highlights

March 2022 Highlights

April 2022 Highlights

May 2022 Highlights

June 2022 Highlights

July/August 2022 Highlights

September 2022 Highlights

October 2022 Highlights

November and December 2022 Highlights

Books of 2022

Movies and Television of 2022

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I did this last year (Here’s one post, with links to all the others.) It’s a way for me to sort through things, retrieve ideas that might work for longer pieces in other spaces, make me feel horrible about my terrible memory (did I write that?) and so on. I don’t include posts on saints or travel here. The saints because I tend to re-run them, no apologies, and the travel posts because they are collected here. Gender-related posts here.  Book and movie takes, as well as links to other monthly highlights, at the end of this post.

All March 2022 posts here.

(As you can see from the images below, it was also the month we saw Lyle Lovett and Dwight Yoakum within a 2-week span. I didn’t write at length about either concert, but the pics are there for my memory’s sake.)


Do you or any of the adults that you know want to talk to other people’s kids about either sexual matters or even your own personal lives? Is making sure that any kids in your circle understand you or even know what you did last weekend important?

Is it even normal for a 40-year old to want a bunch of 11-year olds to “know who I really am?” much less to want to dig into their personal lives?

Um, no.

It would seem to me that after decades of discussing how the “fun mom” and the “cool coach” and the “drama teacher who lets us hang out at his apartment” and the “priest who drinks beer with us” are all basically emotionally arrested groomers and often abusers – we would be determined to insist on more walls between the adults who care for and educate young people and their charges, not fewer.

If Mom is always “doing her best” just because she’s Mom – why the heck are so many of us still grappling with Mom and Dad issues into adulthood?

We waited for the carrier, and when it came, she asked the baggage handler, Maleta? – referring to her checked bag, so now my Spanish vocabulary has been expanded by one more word, and then her phone rang while the baby was fussing a bit, so I took the baby – Jose! – and ended up carrying him through the airport while she talked on the phone, I presume to her relatives who were, indeed, there to meet her, with the women immediately swarming over the baby and everyone saying gracias and buenas noches and some of us…. phew.

In other words, our instinctive reaction to some Catholic moment from the past might be: Wow, that’s pretty crazy. And it might have been! But we might consider a follow-up as we consider our own lives: Wow, that’s pretty crazy, too, to be honest.

As I said, ours is not to point and laugh and bask in our superiority. Because we don’t have anything to brag about.

That is not to argue that the past is golden, ossified and preserved in amber for our devotion and emulation. The Catholic past is a riotous dynamic which includes moments worth reverencing and moments worth critiquing.

For the history of the Church may not be properly understood by the secular definition of “progress” but it certainly has the dynamic of reform baked into it – that is indeed, our history: Establishing a thought or practice or other reality that is faithful to the Gospel, and then, invariably, that moment drifting, corrupting and being an example, no longer of love, but of human pride and folly. And so we pray, discern, perhaps painfully tear down what have become idols, and begin again.

I was once at a Mass celebrated by a bishop, who was very happy at the end of Mass. He crowed, “We were really Church tonight!” I got it. I understood. On an emotional level, it was not an unreasonable reaction. But the point is: no matter how freaking boring it may seem to you– it’s still Church.

So there’s where ritual comes in.


January 2022 Highlights

February 2022 Highlights

March 2022 Highlights

April 2022 Highlights

May 2022 Highlights

June 2022 Highlights

July/August 2022 Highlights

September 2022 Highlights

October 2022 Highlights

November and December 2022 Highlights

Books of 2022

Movies and Television of 2022

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I did this last year (Here’s one post, with links to all the others.) It’s a way for me to sort through things, retrieve ideas that might work for longer pieces in other spaces, make me feel horrible about my terrible memory (did I write that?) and so on. I don’t include posts on saints or travel here. The saints because I tend to re-run them, no apologies, and the travel posts because they are collected here. Gender-related posts here. Book and movie takes at the end of this post.

All January posts here.

I’ll knock off 2 or 3 a day until we’re done. So let’s go:


How radical.

To respect other people’s time.

To understand the addictive nature of activities like this and just online life in general and not exploit it.

None of us are saints. None of our movements are pure. None of our “progress” comes without someone else, somewhere, paying a price.

I appreciated Jones-Rogers’ work here – and am interested that her next project focuses on women’s involvement in the slave trade – because I am up for anything that shakes the mythos that women are inherently kinder and more fair than men, and that “if women ran the world…..”

Yeah.

Watch Yellowjackets and contemplate its popularity to see how much people actually buy that claptrap.

I first encountered Illich early, as we like to say, in my homeschool journey. Reading Deschooling Society was an exhilarating confirmation of all of my intuitions about the mess that is modern education.

I later encountered more via the technology-contemplating newsletter of L.M. Sacasas, The Convivial Society – also deeply inspired by Illich.

Last week, I read Medical Nemesis – available in pdf form here. It had a similar effect.

If I could summarize both works, I’d say Illich’s theme is: Institutional forces take over these needs – education and health care – in the name of justice, efficiency and the common good of society. What ends up happening, not surprisingly, is that the institutional definitions and processes become determinative and definitive with an ultimate net loss to human freedom and, paradoxically, the needs they claimed to address.

There are a lot of ways we can say that the Second Vatican Council “failed,” but it’s always seemed to me that the greatest failure was that, unintentionally, the move to reform, which was offered as a way of equipping the Church to go into the world with more power and credibility, ended up severely handicapping that effort as “reform” became, unsurprisingly, decades of internal, inward-looking conversations and infighting.

Instead of the go out that’s packed into every word of the Gospel, every breath of even just this Sunday’s readings, we end up with: talk and fight about territory, role, organization and process.

I am always writing about today, this moment, the present. For the truth is that yes, Jesus has arrived in your district. At this moment. He’s here. Healing, calling, inviting, challenging, sending.

The townspeople are watching, fearful. What are they afraid of? Why do they want Jesus to just depart?

What does this mean practically?

It will mean different things to different people, depending on where you are. Your temptations, the voices discouraging and fearful, will vary.

It can come from nothing more than life’s responsibilities, distracting us from the goodness and grace of the present moment.

It might come from the walls we’ve put up ourselves – I’m undeserving, I’m too far gone, no way I can be changed, no way things can be different. These are the tombs, and this is where I live, chained.

One of the great puzzles to me about the past now almost seventy years is how those who make the biggest noise about a church from the ground up and sensus fidelium are not willing to critique an event that transformed the Church and was engineered from beginning to end, from the top down, and reflected the concerns of clerics and academics.

Certainly, the argument can be made that these clerics were acting on concerns emerging from engagement with the lived experience of the Church as a whole – that is obviously the stance we see in the motivation for the Council and its documents. Modernity, post-war crises, concerns about a detachment between professed faith, practice and everyday life among the laity were all real concerns.

But the jump from there to we know what’s best rooted mainly in contemporary philosophical and theological trends and a total disregard for the psychological and spiritual impact of dramatic, rapid change is huge. And worth examining and critiquing.

One can argue – and probably correctly – that these religious cultures that developed these devotions were actually heavily clerical – that is, cultures in which the word of the ordained was law, wielded often with an authoritarian hand. Well, yes – and devotional life was the space in which the laity could operate, relatively free of that. My point: it’s no different now. And in fact, the focus on the Mass (legitimately, yes) and the loss of popular devotional life intensifies that clerical focus. It may not be with such a heavy hand these days, but it’s still there.

So yeah, fight clericalism: Throw yourself into those Works of Mercy,  celebrate the feasts, make things for God’s glory and then build a shrine, process to it with your friends, and keep the candles burning.


January 2022 Highlights

February 2022 Highlights

March 2022 Highlights

April 2022 Highlights

May 2022 Highlights

June 2022 Highlights

July/August 2022 Highlights

September 2022 Highlights

October 2022 Highlights

November and December 2022 Highlights

Books of 2022

Movies and Television of 2022

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Not quite as much walking on Saturday, but even so, one thing became clear to me Saturday night – I can cross the funicular off my transportation options from mid-afternoon on at least for the next day or so. It’s a holiday weekend, so folks are flocking to town and La Pipila is a major destination – and of course if you can, you want to ride up and down, not just for the ease of it, but for the experience.

(Remember – click on photos for larger versions, and go to Instagram for videos.)

This was the crowd at La Pipila early Saturday evening:

And this was the line for the funicular to go up about 9pm Saturday night:

The line goes in a building and up some stairs, and each funicular car holds no more than 8-10 people. With about five minutes in between loads. So….

Everyday is Leg Day now…

Saturday morning, I started walking with the intention of getting a taxi up to San Cayetano for real this time (remember, I tried, unsuccessfully, on Friday). In my walk out of the pedestrian-only city center, I spied open doors on a church that had been closed every previous time because of reconstruction work they are doing. Popped in to find a small space, packed with images, of course, and also with two groups of religious education students – one younger group at the front, and an older group on the other end. It’s the Templo de San Roque.

Made my way through the already-crowded streets, found a taxi, showed him the place on my phone – and up we went.

You can read the history of the church (and, incidentally, the mine) here. Fraught, to say the least, in my opinion. It’s gorgeous, retablos covered in gold leaf, the picture frames solid gold – in gratitude to God and St. Cajetan for the discovery of the silver mines – which were mined with enslaved and indentured labor.

They manage seeing the church quite closely. The pews are roped off so you can’t sit, there are people supervising, asking you to take off your hat and reminding tour guides not to….guide while they’re inside.

I would have liked to sit for a bit and take it in, but I have no complaints with their rules, because they’re made with their own sense of the sacredness of the space in mind, probably knowing full well what havoc and disrespect tourists can bring with them.

Another taxi back down, this time directly to the bus station, so I could catch a ride to Leon.

Inter-city buses in Mexico are very comfortable, clean and efficient. Buses go between Leon and Guanajuato every twenty minutes, so I paid my 66 pesos (about $3USD), and there was a bus, just about ready to go.

I wanted to go to Leon for a few reasons: it’s a center of leather goods production, and there are heaps of leather goods vendors right outside the bus station, there’s a well-regarded museum of Guanajuato history and culture, and the cathedral – Pope Benedict visited here in 2012. Here’s his homily at vespers at that cathedral.

First stop was a short walk to the museum – admission 25 pesos – a bit more than a dollar. It was a nice museum, spacious, but not very large. There were four main exhibit spaces, only one of which is permanent. There was contemporary art in two of them, a (of course) Don Quixote exhibit in another and then the permanent space, which was very well done, but seemed incomplete – it only went up to the 18th century. There was a closed off door across the mezzanine, which seemed to me to be a continuation…oh never mind. It cost a dollar, for heaven’s sake.

From there I headed in the direction of the cathedral, which was about a 2 mile walk from the museum. I thought I’d walk it to see the city and then cab or Uber back. Which is what I did.

Leon is a huge, busy city – the center is not “charming,” but it’s clean, very busy, with lots of shopping. In gardens and plazas along the way, I saw many quinceañera photography sessions happening, and several shops like this:

Approaching the old city, I saw this looming church and thought, huh, Maps was wrong. Why did it tell me the cathedral was a mile further?

Because…this isn’t the cathedral.

I wish I had done my research and learned more about this before I’d gone – I’d have headed over earlier to give myself more time and toured the crypt as well.

Expiatory Temple of the Sacred Heart of Jesus

My preference is for colonial…well I prefer a lot of church architectural styles over Gothic, but it’s definitely impressive.

Okay. So one more mile and then, here we are:

To save time, I got an Uber back to the bus/leather area.

The driver pointed out what he claimed were the best shops. Well, no matter what, combine the lower cost of living and the made-right-here prices…and you have some deals everywhere.

Also….????

The bus ride back took less time than the first because it was non-stop. About 40 minutes or so. The main bus station in Guanajuato is pretty far out of town, so I took a taxi back, rested a bit, then went out to fight the MOBS of people in town. I had a meal in an actual restaurant, but this is long enough, so I’ll save that for the “what I ate” post. But before that…

..well, one of the most internationally well-known artists to play at this festival was Gustavo Dudamel, conductor of the LA Philharmonic. He and the orchestra (I presume just a core) have been touring and this was the last stop. My Pianist Son is a big Dudamel fan, so I’m familiar with him. Tickets for the concert last night were impossible to get, but I thought…hey. I know where the stage door is. Let’s lurk.

(I wasn’t the only one, just so you know.)

I got there about 7:35, security was fairly heavy around the door, so I knew he hadn’t yet arrived. Five minutes later…there he was. One young fellow was brave and leaped over and got a maskless selfie with him – he (the young guy) was ecstatic, and told me, as we were walking away that no he wasn’t a musician, just a fan of great music, he’d been waiting there since 5 and that tickets for the concert had sold out in an hour.

Anyway, here’s Gustavo Dudamel in a mask.

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Well, duh. Of course it was Louis IX. That was who I’d assume it was, but a quick look of images, didn’t give me the crown of thorns. Who knows. I probably entered the wrong Louis in the search box, given I was …pretty…tired.

So, let’s go – day 3.

One of the features of day 3, aside from walking was an approximately 1639% rise in the number of American voices I heard as I walked. I mean – everywhere.

So, back to the walking. The first thing I wanted to do was to see if this one church – San Francisco – which I’d walked by ten times so far, and has always been closed – was open. It wasn’t. But the little church just at the other end of the block was, so I popped in. It’s called Santa Casa de Loreto, and according to what someone said in Google reviews is “used for talks.” It’s quite small, circular, filled with saints in their garb, as it the tradition here.

Click on photos for full, large version. Videos on Instagram. For past days, check the “highlights.”

Next, time to climb. Guanajuato is in a valley, and there are a lot of good hikes in those hills. Friday, I decided to stay urban and just walk up to Mina de San Juan de Rayas. It was the first mine in Guanajuato, discovered in 1550 by a muledriver after whom it’s named.

So remember, Guanajuato is in this deep valley with basically one flat street, and then everything else running uphill from that point, on all sides. So that was my walk – up, up, up – to the first viewpoint, and then down a bit, then back up to the town and the second viewpoint and the – of course – closed church.

Next, I decided I’d either just walk back down to town (a different way) or, if I could get a taxi, go up to San Cayetano to this church.

So I started walking down the road. Within a couple of minutes, a taxi carrying a passenger passed me going up, so I assumed he’d be coming back down in a minute. He did. I hailed him, and said (I thought) Cayetano? He repeated it back to me – I thought. Nodded. I got in.

I guess my accent is much worse than I thought. I was following our route on maps, and it was fine for a couple of minutes, then just kept descending….till we ended up at the Mercado Hidalgo back in town, he put on his flashers and looked at me expectantly. Si?

Sigh. Okay. I guess God didn’t want me to go to Cayetano today. Sure. Saved me a walk down at least.

So, since I was right there, I went to the Museo Regional de Guanajuato Alhóndiga de Granaditas – you can read about its history here. The placards were all in Spanish, of course, but they did have scan codes – thanks, technology! – so you could access English-language information. I was a little scared because in the MesoAmerican room, I’ve gotten to the point where I can sort of differentiate between the cultures just by the look of the artifacts – when I said to myself without reading the card, “Oh, that’s Veracruz” – I knew my life was very strange now, thanks to kids and the way they expand your world.

Lots of Mexican Independence material, since this area was crucial to that struggle. But of most interest to me (of course) was a room full of ex-votos – I’d seen a lot at the Guadalupe shrine a few years ago. Those I highlight here seem to refer to mining accidents.

Then some shopping, lunch at a place highly recommended by another B & B guest – and yes, it was good.

Then up (on the funicular) for a rest before heading out in the night to see what was happening – and one of the things that was happening was Mass at the always-closed San Francisco, so in I headed. The priest had just begun with the Eucharistic Prayer, which was the Roman Canon, by the way. (I would like to take up a collection to purchase wireless mikes for Mexican parishes. In both Masses I’ve been to so far, the priest has held an microphone even during the consecration. Maybe get a server to hold it for you? Shrugs)

The Mass was fairly full, I’m guessing both because St. Jude seems to be an important saint in this parish (his statue was at the front) and because St. Jude is popular – there were several in the congregation holding small statues to be blessed. As per usual here, the doors to the church were open all during Mass, and so people came in and out, and street life noises – including a would-be lounge singer on the plaza – mingled with the life inside.

You might be interested, too – out of a congregation of about 70, only 9 or so received Communion. I’m used to seeing maybe 25% of predominantly Latino congregations receive Communion, and this was even lower. Interestingly, a noticeable number of people left right after the Consecration, as well.

The town was hopping – as it always seems to be. I wandered around, took in various street musicians, then decided to head back in time to get the funicular.

Hahahaha. I missed it by that much. As in – the last one was rising up the tracks as I walked through the door. Cerrado. Menana. Well, I don’t want to ride it manana, thanks.

So, up I trudged, in the process getting caught in a callejoneadas matrix (photo on the far right). Well, at least now I know their route. At one point, there was no way I could gracefully exit the situation, with callejoneadas groups on three sides…well, at least I saw the show (for free)! I think one of the situations was that this particular callejoneadas excursion was only for couples, and then they divided them into two separate groups, telling them that they were going to do separate tours – and then (at the point I arrived), they brought the men out from behind a block of buildings, up some steps to reunite with the women accompanied by some romantic song. I think that’s what was happening, anyway.

(Video on Instagram)

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One of the highlights of my day was not an American woman walking by me, talking on her phone, saying loudly, “You know, Latinos are very superstitious. They believe that having their photo taken steals their soul.”

Nope, not that.

Anyway, day 2 was mostly museums, wandering, and tacos. That’s really why I came: for the tacos. At a plate for about $2.50, when the same at home (authentic tacos even from a truck) run about $3.50/apiece.

First, though, two church stops.

The San Diego is right next to the Teatro Juarez. In it, a group of women were praying – not the rosary, but not sure what – and the photo I posted yesterday was from there. Later in the day, I went to the “museum” in the crypt, which is really just an excavation site of the original structure – which is interesting to see, and I suppose worth the .80 I paid for it.

(Remember – you can click on any photo of for the full version. Videos are on Instagram because I’m not going to gum up my WordPress media storage with videos. For past days, check the highlights.)

Then up to Templo de la Compañía – built by the Jesuits, but only used by them for a couple of years before they were expelled from Spain (and New Spain) – unused for a few decades, then taken by the Oratory of St. Philip Neri. It’s being used as a venue by the Cervantino music festival, and they were setting up and doing sound checks for a performance later today. It was all so interesting to watch that I probably sat there for thirty minutes – not the technical aspects of the setup, but the juxtaposition and the life going on: the sound and visual techs doing their thing, loudly, a group of mostly women gathered right in front of the stage praying, loudly, some workers up around the high interior cross, arranging flowers, tourists, random pray-ers, and then a group of children accompanied by some women and a priest in a habit I didn’t recognize (light brown – really tan – scapular over a white robe).

Then into the huge Mercado Hidalgo – lots of tourist tat on the mezzanine level, but food and your basic goods on the bottom. Across is another market which is all food stalls. The women stand up on stools, wave menus at passers-by and do this tschu-tscu sound. I went ahead and ate there – it was, of course, good – all freshly prepared, etc.

Then to the museums.

First, the Diego Rivera house and museum. Rivera was born in Guanajuato, and I knew about him was “murals” “communist” and “Frida” – so I learned a bit, even though it was all in Spanish – I can make out museum placards just fine, but don’t ask me to tell you what the funicular conductor just said to us on the way down…I hope it wasn’t important, because I have no idea.

Then to the Museo del Pueblo de Guanajuato, right next to the university. It’s a small museum with changing exhibits. Most interesting to me was a current exhibit of paintings from their collection that feature the religious orders vital to the history of New Spain. Also, the most amazing vanitas painting I’ve ever seen. (couldn’t take photos in the other parts. Probably wasn’t supposed to here, but…)

Next, Cervantes.

So, you are wondering, why is Cervantes and Don Quixote so important here? All because of one man named Ferrer: A Spaniard who fought in the Civil War against Franco, was imprisoned in a camp during World War II, but survived and emigrated to Mexico, where he became a media mogul of a sorts. But while in the camp, he had obtained and read a copy of Don Quixote, which had deeply inspired him. He began to collect everything he could related to Cervantes, funded university programs, and finally, bequeathed his collection to Guanajuato.

(Fourth “museum” was the San Diego crypt)

Came back to the B & B for a bit, then headed back down to see nightlife. Someone said “Yeah, people will start coming tomorrow for Day of the Dead” and I am at a loss to imagine what it’s going to be like. Bonkers, I’m thinking.

Loads of music everywhere – in one photo below, to the right, there’s a band playing, and then to the left – you really can’t see – there’s a crowd gathered around a rapper. Street musicians, the Callejoneadas – whom, I must add, do not do their schtick for free. They hang out all day in the town, selling tickets to their walks. I don’t know how or when they look at the tickets – seem you can just join in whenever on the way, but they must.

I also figured out the mariachi situation. The main square in front of the Teatro Juarez is surrounded by restaurants, especially on one side. I was puzzled because there are probably a dozen mariachi bands hanging out around there, and at any one time, there are two or three playing at the same time, sometimes right next to each other. It was explained to me that people pay to have the mariachi sing for them, sometimes sitting on the park benches, sometimes sitting at restaurant tables, so it is just a mariachi marketplace.

Below: food, including much corn.

And then, after posting an Instagram story about how grateful I was for the funicular so I wouldn’t have to climb up and down that hill, I discovered….I had been misinformed as to the closing time of the funicular, so up I went. It actually wasn’t as bad as I thought. And probably good for me.

Also: hmmm.

Nah, too young. But impressive commitment to the look!

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She stood for a very long time in this spot, praying steadily and vocally.

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Well, that was a day. Up and awake around 3:30 am – had a 5:30 am flight. I live 15 minutes from the airport, but you know how it is. I just – woke up. So might as well rise and shine, double check that the oven is off and wait for the Uber.

The Birmingham airport was pretty busy at 5am, the flight was on time, we got to Dallas with enough time for me to train to another terminal and board the flight to…

And here I am. Guantajuato, Mexico. That’s the view from my B & B.

I’m pretty tired tonight. I tried to nap this afternoon, but to no avail. My curiosity about the city overwhelmed my exhaustion so I gave up and went out. A few hours later, I wanted to lie down on a park bench and pass out, but of course that wouldn’t be a good idea and there was also the matter of the cacophony of the Battling Mariachi bands for which I need to get an explanation tomorrow.

(You are wondering why I am here. It’s fairly simple. I’ve seen pictures like the one above for a while and have wanted to come here just because of that. It’s Day of the Dead season, and, as it turns out, there’s a big music festival here as well. Not that I’ll be able to see any of the major performances (I checked today – Wynton Marsalis as well as Gustavo Dudamel conducting some Mahler are both sold out), but maybe I’ll see something.))

So I rose, and wandered, got the lay of the land, really tired myself out, so tomorrow I’ll be ready for museums and tacos and such.

Quickly, then:

From left to right: A mariachi band getting ready to greet someone at the airport. I had to leave before I could see it actually happen. The main building of the University of Guanajuato (founded by Jesuits in the 18th century), then the Basilica of Our Lady of Guanajuato, including a sort of scary looking St. Charbel (the Lebanese saint who is very popular in Mexico).

For reasons I do not yet understand, but hope to grasp tomorrow, Cervantes and Don Quixote are very popular here. In fact, the festival is called the Cervantino Festival. There’s a museum dedicated to Don Quixote here.

It is already very striking to me how strong the Spanish part of Mexican identity is here. My major exposure to Mexico in the past has been in the Yucatan, where Mayan heritage is so strong. But then, this area of Mexico was the heart of colonial Mexico – at some point, I think 2/3 of the world’s silver was mined around here. So it stands to reason.

A clown/magician show.

Entrance to the Mercado Hidalgo.

Very near the market and the spillage of other markets all around it was a church. It was a little after 7, and Mass had started, so I stopped in. There were a good number of people there, and, as is the norm in city churches, people drifted in and out – mostly in. The doors were open the whole time (just as they were during Holy Week in Puebla), and forget all your evangelization committees – that’s a presence. Right there, door open wide, in the midst of the comings and goings of everyday life outside.

Just another October Wednesday night in Guatajuato? I guess? Is it always like this, or is it related to the Day of the Dead, which isn’t until next Tuesday? It was so busy….

Teatro Juarez where I guess I will not be seeing Gustavo Dudamel…

The Callejoneadas are groups of singers in Renaissance garb who gather up crowds and lead them in song through the streets.

(For video go to Instagram)

Well, I reasoned, I’m going to be here for several more nights – I’ll have plenty of time to take this all in. Time to take the funicular up to bed!

And who is the statue of? El Pipila – and you can read his story here.

(The funicular station is at the base of the statue, and my B & B is a very short walk from there.)

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