A Week of Wonders

Last weekend (Dec. 11 and 12) marked the end of the feast of the Virgin and the final processions in her honour throughout the City. It is a week filled traffic chaos, religious devotion and food. The processions wind their way through town, causing major headaches for drivers as one of the main arteries in Centro is completely closed off to vehicular traffic and food stands sprout up everywhere. The processions themselves are beautiful with their costumed performers, ancient pagan rituals, familiar, haunting music and drum beats. The processions at night are especially beautiful, lit with candlelight. There is something very moving to see young and old, Nationals and ex-pats, mingling together to celebrate one of Mexico's oldest traditions. It is truly a powerful expression of faith.

On Saturday afternoon in the store, Luis manhandled two huge pinatas up the stairs. I had no idea what they were for until around 5PM when Ana Margarita yelled for me to come downstairs to see the children. The tunnel to the store was filled with small children, all dressed in costume, two representing Mary and Joseph. Apparently, they go from one stop to the next, on their journey looking for food and a resting spot for the pregnant Mother of God. These kids were so small ... I can never get over the difference in size between Mexican children and the kids in Canada. Most of them didn't appear much older than 3 or 4 as they looked at me with huge shining eyes and big toothy grins. It was amazing.

One night on my way home from work, as I walked by Cafe de Olla, the man who cooks on the barbeque outside the restaurant greeted me with his usual smile. As I reached out my hand to shake his in our regular form of greeting, for some inexplicable reason, he enveloped me in a warm hug much like I would expect from my father. I don't know his name and he doesn't speak a word of English but it made feel fuzzy all over just the same.

On Wednesday night, it started to rain around 12:30AM. I lay cuddling my teddy bears in bed, listening to the sound of the rain on the leaves and the thunder rolling in the distance out over the Bay and I thought I had never been more content than right at that exact moment.

On Thursday night, I shared a romantic dinner on the beach with a friend before we headed down south to Dreams (the former Camino Real resort) for an outdoor concert. Paco Renteria was playing to a small crowd outdoors. I had seen him last year at Los Arcos, a huge venue with thousands of people. We were maybe 100 people on Thursday night and as he strummed the first few notes on his guitar, with the quarter moon floating above us and the palm trees waving in the cool night breeze, I felt tears roll down my face. There is something about his music that reaches me like no other ... maybe because wherever and whenever I play it, I am always taken back to Puerto Vallarta.