Día de Independencia:
Dan and I dragged our sleepy selves out of bed at 3:50 AM. It was Sept. 15th, the first day of the bi-centennial celebration of Mexican Independence from Spain. The city had been swept to the point of spotlessness, and red, white and green banners hung over all the streets and around the gazebo in the Plaza Hidalgo. We had 10 minutes to throw on some clothes and walk to the plaza where the Paseo de Gallo (Rooster walk) was due to begin. I told Dan, "Don't worry... nothing here ever starts on time."
As we headed down Calle Obregon, our neighbors were already sitting out on their porch waiting. Dan called out "Buenas Noches!" They laughed and told him it was actually Buenas Días even though it was still pitch black and we had to strain to see the irregularities waiting for us in the street..
4 AM Sept 15th Paseo de Gallo |
Apparently, many years ago, some of men in Banámichi decided it would be nice to take a walk early in the morning on the day before Día de Independencia to celebrate. Later this evolved into waking up the citizenry and inviting everyone to breakfast. At first it was men only, and then the womenfolk began to beg their husbands to go along to see what was happening. So gradually, everyone began to go and it became a local custom and an annual civic event.
The breakfast consists of menudo, a greasy concoction of hominy and tripe that is reputed to be a hangover cure. This seems to be a recipe that separates the Mexicans from us gringos - The Mexicans love the stuff, and most gringos I know are a bit iffy about it. We didn't try it.
After awhile, we peeled off the back of the parade and went home to sit on the roof for awhile to soak up the early morning cool and gaze at the Milky Way out over the river flats. A gentle breeze picked up that was almost chilly. I noticed the descent of the peace and contentment I always feel looking out at the church steeple and the mountains in the distance Slowly we each succumbed to the hour and drifted back to bed snooze a bit longer. We left the early celebrations and late night fiestas to the Mexicans who all in all are a hardier lot than we are.
On the evening of Sept 15th, people once again gathered in the plaza to celebrate "El Grito" (the shout) - the call for independence. In 1810, in the early hours of Sept. 16th, Father Hidalgo rang the bells of his little church in the small town of Dolores, Guanajuato to call everyone together. He spoke to them of Spanish oppression and at the end, they shouted "Long Live Independence!!" This was the beginning of the 10 year war for independence, and this pivotal moment is celebrated every year when the Presidente offers the cry of independence in the plaza at 11 PM.
The next day (Sept. 16th) we arrived early at Los Arcos Hotel to take our places across the street in the shade for the civic parade. Lynn passed out red, white and green Mexican flags to people nearby. An elderly woman with white hair and a bent back hobbled up to the corner where we were sitting. We offered her a seat and some coffee which she at first politely refused and finally hesitantly accepted. Meanwhile, A cowboy in matching blue boots and shirt rode up and down the street on his horse, transporting costumed little girls to the start of the parade.
Our local government |
Children in costum |
Hooray for Santa Elena gold and silver mine |
Unhappy corn gir |
Little peasant with sandwich |
Folklorico dancer |
That evening there was to be another fiesta and dance. The weekend also included a rodeo and a horse race - regional activities in the ranching country of Sonora.
To an aging and sometimes cynical gringa, it was uplifting to see how much reverence the Mexican people have for their history, and how much pride in their Mexico. As an American, it is so easy to forget the realities of other countries - that people there feel the same pride in their heritage that we do for ours. We are not the center of the universe as we imagine ourselves to be. Particularly now, with the immigration debate in the US at a fever pitch of stridency and animosity, it seems easy for a segment of our population to demonize the Mexicans and imagine that they are the one-dimensional enemy who wants to sneak into our country and upset our neatly stacked applecart. In reality, most Mexicans prefer Mexico - it is home and everything that is familiar to them and they only leave under the worst imaginable economic conditions. All they want to do is feed their families and then return home.