Used to be, you could count on pan muerto, or dead bread, made for Day of the Dead celebrations. It was a round load, sometimes a mini loaf, baked dark brown, almost burned, and simply covered in granulated sugar. It was "designed" to sweeten the bitter we taste when a love one has died.
Many of the Day of the Dead rituals surrounding All Saints Day were similarly conceived. There was nothing pagan about it. Halloween, on the other hand, is based on pagan concepts.
So when I went to get pan muerto for Eriso's family and myself, I was mildly shocked. I wish I had a camera with me.
There were squash, not pumpkin, shaped faces with mouths wide open and eye holes and mouth holes filled with pudding. Ugh. The shop owner pointed and smiled. "Halloween," she said. I smiled. I had already reconsidered going to Centro for a treck amongst the overserved.
I don't celebrate Halloween. As a rural kid, I never cared for dragging my mother door to door in the rain, but it was expected. You had to bring your candy to school and show off and share.
Honoring the dead and the survivors had nothing to do with it. Isla Mujeres and Cancun are being changed by the gringos here, with places like Walmart introducing orange plastic jack-o-lanterns for trick-or-treating which in Centro is likely to last a week, because Americans think it's cute.
Try giving those kids candy and see what happens! They get it every day. No, they'll be begging for pesos even though most get some discretionary pesos, too.
Eriso thanked me for the pan muerto to take to Debora and his three kids. They won't be trick or treating tonight, an ugly night following a gray afternoon. They'll be sipping hot chocolate or sweetened corn milk, eating their sweet breads, and recalling children who didn't make it. That is what Day of the Dead Children and Day of the Dead are supposed to be about. Not dressing up to frighten folks or to win money, but to honor the dead, those who survive and mocking "Death."
October 31, 2008
Bwahahaha! Happy Halloween!
It's going to be a witchy day! I'm up in the middle of the night, trying to figure out how to make my 12 peso witch's hat stand erect! If all the planets align, I'll be wandering the streets tonight with chocolate kisses to sell for 1 peso a piece, for PEACE, the community foundation. But a lot could go wrong between then and now.
Yesterday at lunchtime, Eriso asked that I go get three more polyduct tubes for the front fence frames. Jose got the last order wrong when he went alone, so we are short.
But when I showed up at Boxito at 2:09, they were closed and not just for lunch. A sign says that through December, their new hours are 9am to 2pm. Me thinks this is a bad thing. And an update, this may have been a one day thing, because this morning, the sign said Sunday hours. But I was the only one there.
Gringos usually go with their workers in the mornings, and usually start out before 9, say 8am, when the workers also go to make their purchases for Mexican property owners. If gringos are are doing their own work, they usually go in the afternoon, buying for the next day. Boxito usually closes at 7pm. Which by my logic suggests there is less overall home improvement and construction is being done. The recession trickles over.
And the old wooden door on the bodega (shed) disintegrated over the weekend. I know that since the carpenter hasn't come by to measure for bedroom drawers that he is likely too busy finishing up his yacht jobs to be of help. And an investment into the door was planned for next month, replacing it with an aluminum one.
So, in the meantime, I will drop by a chatarrero or two, junk men, to see if there are any spare doors around that Eriso or one of his buddies could hang on the bodega frame. AND, Oh yes, I ,owe Tidyman a few more passages for the book, which I should be writing right now instead of blogging.
All that and Halloween, too. Bwahahaha! I might not be wandering Centro selling kisses, but wandering the keyboard, tapping out words. Bwah.
Yesterday at lunchtime, Eriso asked that I go get three more polyduct tubes for the front fence frames. Jose got the last order wrong when he went alone, so we are short.
But when I showed up at Boxito at 2:09, they were closed and not just for lunch. A sign says that through December, their new hours are 9am to 2pm. Me thinks this is a bad thing. And an update, this may have been a one day thing, because this morning, the sign said Sunday hours. But I was the only one there.
Gringos usually go with their workers in the mornings, and usually start out before 9, say 8am, when the workers also go to make their purchases for Mexican property owners. If gringos are are doing their own work, they usually go in the afternoon, buying for the next day. Boxito usually closes at 7pm. Which by my logic suggests there is less overall home improvement and construction is being done. The recession trickles over.
And the old wooden door on the bodega (shed) disintegrated over the weekend. I know that since the carpenter hasn't come by to measure for bedroom drawers that he is likely too busy finishing up his yacht jobs to be of help. And an investment into the door was planned for next month, replacing it with an aluminum one.
So, in the meantime, I will drop by a chatarrero or two, junk men, to see if there are any spare doors around that Eriso or one of his buddies could hang on the bodega frame. AND, Oh yes, I ,owe Tidyman a few more passages for the book, which I should be writing right now instead of blogging.
All that and Halloween, too. Bwahahaha! I might not be wandering Centro selling kisses, but wandering the keyboard, tapping out words. Bwah.
October 30, 2008
Take my hombre, please!
When learning Spanish, you've got to be careful! There are a lot of words that sound alike, are spelled only slightly differently, but have very different meanings.
It is a fact that was reinforced on my road trip. Mexican men are very macho caballeros. I, who need help going down Mexican high steps (why are steps poured one foot tall or more?) am forever being offered a hand by men. What they give me is a limp wrist or forearm that I can do without, thank you. It is worse than no help at all.
Traveling with a woman, it was different. Tome mi hombro. I don't want your hombre! Pero...oh, your shoulder! And she would step down ahead of me and I would use her shoulder as a crutch or cane. Very easy on both of us and very secure for me. If I were to fall, I'd know where I was going. And she was discrete enough so no one really realized it was taking her hombre. Oh, make that hombro. I don't want her hombre!
It is a fact that was reinforced on my road trip. Mexican men are very macho caballeros. I, who need help going down Mexican high steps (why are steps poured one foot tall or more?) am forever being offered a hand by men. What they give me is a limp wrist or forearm that I can do without, thank you. It is worse than no help at all.
Traveling with a woman, it was different. Tome mi hombro. I don't want your hombre! Pero...oh, your shoulder! And she would step down ahead of me and I would use her shoulder as a crutch or cane. Very easy on both of us and very secure for me. If I were to fall, I'd know where I was going. And she was discrete enough so no one really realized it was taking her hombre. Oh, make that hombro. I don't want her hombre!
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