It is the first half hour of Christmas Day, and I smell something on fire. I have spent much of the evening cuddled up with a plate of Christmas cookies and a bottle of red wine, but the explosive revelry surrounds me and I am forced to leave the house. The neighbors at the end of the courtyard are close to blowing a fuse with the subwoofers they have dragged in; children and their fathers are lighting fireworks on the highest roof, and Mercedes has lit a candle in every window of her houseful of guests. I still can't figure out where the bonfire is, but it is close. Tonight is rather warm, and there is a cheerful energy out on the streets. Unlike other latin cities, Morelia seems to be keeping it's celebrations somewhat private, behind closed doors at least. Family, friends, and neighbors in every little alley way are in on this jubilant and joyous tuba solo sing-a-long that seems to be never-ending. Ever. ¡Viva!
2 comments:
Glad you survived your first Christmas in the courtyard. I ran to San Augstin, crying, to get away from the God-awful noise last year. I felt like a rat trapped in a cage in my own home. Argh!! That is one part of Mexican culture that I will never be able to acclimate to - neighbors who don't respect each others' right to reasonable decibel levels. No balazos? :)
Emily
It was really very quiet in Todos Santos Christmas eve, some voices and music, but little action. The church was way overcrowed for the 9:00 service, which was just beginning as my family and I left a fabulous dinner at the Hotel California (yes the one from the song is in Todos Santos and it is a striking setting for very good food. At the church nearby folks were standing in the entry, and outside at both doors. We didn't try again for the midnight mass.
Too bad I missed the fireworks and lighting of the churches in Morelia. I was up for a Saturday night there! But Guanajuato was a lovely experience.
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