tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54255506997742382712024-03-12T19:53:01.830-06:00North of AndorraDocumenting the trials and tribulations of Doug Reid and Nancy Procter as they attempt to purchase and renovate a French "fixer-upper" in the foothills of the Pyrenees with new French power tools and a new language.North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.comBlogger578125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-41419800766823359372017-08-31T11:14:00.000-06:002017-08-31T11:27:43.413-06:00Rainy Day. What to do?That's easy. Go back to the mummy museum. <br />
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Nothing like this exists, at least as far as I know, anywhere else. I am aware of mummies in Egypt, the Ice Man in Bolzano, Italy and some Incan mummies in Peru. And are they on display in glass cases? These mummies, however, are rather recent dating from around the turn of the century, 1900 that is. Remember that these mummies were totally unintentional because the "dry" air and certain substances in the soil that delayed decomposition. They were removed because no one had paid the "rent" on the burial space which were mausoleum vaults. Only a few were in a casket and placed in the ground. So it's all very confusing to me. Why are they so well preserved if they weren't in the soil and the air is not so very dry?<br />
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This lady's feet are tied together with twine and her stockings are down around her ankles. I have to guess that the stockings were in place on her upper legs upon burial and ended up there when she was stood up for display. I can't guess what the twine is doing there, except holding her feet together so her legs aren't splayed and hold her up, but it must have been added later.<br />
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This gentleman had a full beard that is still present. He's in remarkably good shape for a dead man.<br />
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Since there is no one present at the museum to ask questions of, I am forced to guess why this fellow is wearing underwear. And remarkably well preserved underwear it is. Other mummies are totally devoid of clothes and I can only assume what was left of their final attire fell to the ground in tatters as they were moved out of their burial chambers. But this guy is wearing a pair of undershorts that except for the color, look pretty darn good. I reckon that his genitals were so "lifelike" that the curators decided he needed some cover. I just don't think they found him like this. His original shorts would have been in tatters and if still present would have fallen to the ground. You'd think I'd be wondering about more metaphysical matters rather than the state of his shorts, but I calls 'em as I sees 'em.<br />
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One of the few mummies in a coffin was this 76 year old lady in a nightgown and stockings. Lots of questions.<br />
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This gentleman, says the card, died of drowning. Hence, they say, the "blue" tone to his skin and the evidence of water in the lungs. But he's still got his shoes. And did he drown in an accident of was it suicide? I can only guess accident because he was in a Catholic Church graveyard, and they don't allow suicides. The interesting thing about this museum is the number of questions that come to mind.<br />
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And another lady, whose last attire includes her best boots and stockings. I wonder why leather and silk didn't decompose as much as the rest of her garments. There was more than one mummy clad only in shoes and stockings. The visit to the Museo de las Mumias reinforces my belief that I want to be cremated.North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-33909611635821100632017-08-20T06:44:00.001-06:002017-08-20T06:46:49.062-06:00Photos by Nancy, Captions by Doug<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In the museum in the old granary mentioned earlier, was this display of hacienda life. The hats are supposed to show a progression from one period to another, I guess. The oldest is on the bottom, and I'm thinking the newest styles are in the middle row. Or, the <i>campesinos</i> wore the straw sombrero and the <i>haciendad, el patron</i>, wears the other styles. But I'm guessing here, because there was no information nearby.<br />
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We ate at this restaurant several days after the photo was taken, and the weather wasn't as good, cool and cloudy. Again, I am puzzled. I can translate <i>flores</i> quite easily, but <i>canastillo</i>, I got 'nuthin'.<br />
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Two sisters on the bus ride back to Marfil were pleased as punch that Nancy, a <i>gringa</i>, would take their picture. Cute, aren't they?<br />
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At the Gene Byron Museum (that's her on the left) Nancy took this picture of the paintings of husband and wife. The husband, a Spanish gentleman is still alive so we're told, and lives on the grounds. The museum does double, triple duty. It serves first as a museum for all of Gene Byron's work, furniture, ceramics, the fireplace, lamps, sculptures, candelabras and so on. Secondly, thirdly, and fourthly, it's the old gentleman's home, it's a restaurant, it's a massage parlor. I think that might be all. The portrait of the <i>senor</i> is done with a background of the flag of the second Spanish Republic, of just before the Spanish Civil War. For Whom the Bell Tolls. That republic. The artists, I don't know.North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-74647420445903737202017-08-17T14:58:00.003-06:002017-08-17T17:08:30.590-06:00Four Views of Guanajuanto<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The top photo is looking up the track of the <i>funicular</i>, which took us up to the top of one of the hills surrounding the city. The town itself seemed so big to us when we first arrived. The streets are narrow and winding, some of them steep. And houses and restaurants march up the hillsides around the town. After a couple of weeks of wandering around the town, we realize it is all quite compact. </div>
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The second photo (by the way, all are by Nancy) is a panoramic of the town. We walked down from the summit, which has a gigantic stone sculpture of Pipla, a local hero. A fair number of the residences we passed on our way down have access only by stairways and paths. Groceries come immediately to mind. How they get to the individual houses is unknown. They must patronize the small <i>tiendas</i> located all over, on a daily basis, on foot. If they own cars, and that's a big if, they must be parked far from the front door. But in centro, the taxis are numerous and cheap, and the busses haul loads of people all over the city. The bus ride in Guanajuato is really cheap, five pesos, or 28 cents US.</div>
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The third picture illustrates the local restaurant trade, and since the weather here is called "eternal springtime", many serve up food and drink outside. The climate here in the state of Guanajuato is fantastic. We are here in the rainy season, but it seems to fall mostly in the late afternoon when the heat builds up, or at night. It's far enough south that it never gets too cold and high enough in elevation that it never gets too hot. Lovely, and conducive to eating out in the street, many of which don't allow automobile traffic. But not very many restaurants serve food on a footbridge over the cobblestoned road.</div>
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North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-15486741066570931632017-08-17T11:47:00.002-06:002017-08-17T14:14:05.696-06:00Alhondiga de GranidatasThe Museo Regional de Alhondiga de Granidatas was not originally constructed to be a museum in late 1700s. The magnicient building started life as a grain storage facility, was the site of a siege during the war of independence from Spain, and spent a hundred years as a prison.Today the Alhondiga is a museum in tribute to the history Mexico, of Guanajuato and War of Independence. The <i><b>Romualdo Garcia</b></i> photos were the highlight for me, amongst all the pre-Columbian pottery and figurines, paintings of revolutionary leaders and artifacts of Spanish conquest, the photos had a simplicity and elegance.<span id="goog_1076994343"></span><span id="goog_1076994344"></span><br />
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Garcia was able to capture everyday subjects, in this case some Mexican children around 1900 and make a fine photograph. The Napoleonic chapeaus the boys are wearing have crossed forks and spoons instead of guns or swords. Wonderful touch.</div>
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I'm guessing by the dark complexion of the lady and the extremely light complexions of the (probably Spanish) children, that the lady is the nanny, or a servant of some kind to the family and was more or less a prop to keep the youngster quiet and photographable. She was no doubt an always to be nameless and indigenous photographic prop. In any case, she adds a lot to the photo.</div>
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All three of these photos of Garcia's work are by Nancy and I know it was difficult to make sure the management didn't catch her, and find the right angle to eliminate reflections on the glass covering the photos. I would urge you to go to Google and see other examples of Garcia's photographs, not all of which are of children. Some are vaqueros, businessmen, pretty ladies and photos of beautiful Guanajuato around the turn of the century. Garcia was said to have never left the town of Guanajuato, and certainly none of the photos make that seen untrue. He left behind a treasure trove which few have ever heard of and he deserves more recognition as one of the pioneer greats of his art form.North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-61063772915443417122017-08-10T10:45:00.002-06:002017-08-10T10:53:26.260-06:00St. Somebody's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We took the bus into town again and people who know these things said we should get off the bus "right here", in the middle on one of the tunnels. Lo and behold, the stairway was right there, and following our leader we appeared into the sunlight right at the steps of the major cathedral in Guanajuato. We looked around for awhile and at a side door were a few old caballeros working on a litter for the evenings' parade in honor of St. Somebody. The numbers on the rails tell where each of the 36 hombres stand to shoulder the litter (which is burdened with a statue, flowers and candelabras) and haul it here and there along the parade route.<br />
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This gentleman answered our questions about what in the hell was going on and I felt obliged to tell him "Yo gusto sus espanol por que esta es despacio por nosotros gringos," which may or may not mean 'I like your Spanish because it is slow for us idiots'. He took the time to tell us all about the festival, the components which came from Spain, and which were crafted here in Mexico, I think. It was all very interesting, I think. I missed most of it, but the gentleman was enjoying telling us all about it so we listened and picked up a little information. But we missed what the occasion was in celebration of, and googling the date and place helps not at all. St. Somebody's Day.<br />
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We heard a commotion and looked down into the street. There was another litter with a brass band and vaqueros mounted on their caballos. Hombres played horns and ninos beat the drums and we took pictures.<br />
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The nice slow speaking gentleman had told us to stick around because at 6pm there would be a parade with the litter they were working on leading the way. A parade like this one, which occurred about 11am, was a smaller parade with a smaller litter and statue than the one in the evening, but it was all the same to us. Holy water was sprinkled, vaqueros rode their second best horses and the second best band played, or more accurately pounded on their drums and blew their horns. This litter was carried by about a dozen hombres. The litter which we saw earlier was probably twice or three times this size and, as I said, carried by 36.<br />
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Then we rode the funicular up to the statue of Pipila, who is a real historical figure in Mexico's history. This was about the third or fourth statue of this Mexican Revolutionary hero we had seen in our journey. It was of granite and the others in San Miguel and elsewhere were in bronze. More impressive than the statue, which was impressive no doubt, was the view of the city. This photo was the second (or middle) of three photos that I took to encompass the view. The cathedral is the large yelllow building in the center of the photo.<br />
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<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-29165886583121274862017-08-08T15:23:00.002-06:002017-08-08T15:26:40.269-06:00The Macbre Museum of the Mummies, Guanajunto<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Guanajuato is famous for the Museo de Momia, where 111 specimens now reside. Some like this former doctor, survived with most of his clothing intact. But I imagine the bulk of the mummy's clothes fell off in tatters when unearthed. Hair, beards, pubic hair, teeth, breasts, were all visible or easily imagined.<br />
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These are Nancy's photos and you can see more pictures if you go to Instagram and access her account of the visit, Naahcee is her handle. <br />
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The mummies were dug up intentionally, as there was no one willing to pay for eternal internment. Due to a cholera epidemic, space was needed in the local cemetery. It was not intentional that these corpses were mummified, but conditions; weather, soil, humidity and other factors, were perfect.<br />
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The bodies are displayed in cases, actually hermetically sealed, (I'm glad I finally got to use that word) and so there is no odor, but the lighting and postures of the mummies are certainly spooky. Three of the corpses died in unusual circumstances; a drowning, a stabbing where the blood stains are still visible, and a premature burial which is the scariest of all. I encourage you to learn more about these poor unfortunates on the internet. The Museum has the world's youngest mummy, and the mummy of a fetus.North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-80656984486711885052017-08-06T13:21:00.002-06:002017-08-06T13:21:47.406-06:00A Bus Ride to Town<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We took a bus ride into Guanajuato this morning stepping onto the bus a hundred yards from the house. The bus driver had failed to qualify for Le Mans but drove like a man still in the race. The bus was mostly empty and so, rattled like a thousand tin cans along the cobblestone roads and the newer roads filled with topes (speed bumps are everywhere in Mexico, mostly where you don't expect them). The driver lived by the rule "If you can't find 'em, grind 'em" (referring to the complicated gearbox). I never imagined you could drive a beat up old bus that fast on congested, winding, tope ridden roads. <br />
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When we got to Centro, there was this sign reminding me to get out my camera.<br />
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For a little while the three amigos were in every shot, mischievously standing in front of what I wanted to capture, so I took a portrait.<br />
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Some kind of min-drama was taking place in the plaza with a drum and piccolo, a costumed and masked maiden and pirate, un toro, un matador, and some kids.<br />
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Near centro was this sign and I took a picture so I could translate it later. It reads "Where any toad is king" and then the original spelling of the town.<br />
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From many vantage points, the city looks like this. Houses climbing the hillsides, most built during the silver boom. The only way you can tell you're not in Spain is the American cars and trucks.<br />
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An older couple (about the same age as Nancy and I) waiting for the bus home.North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-26684549971085226022017-08-06T06:47:00.001-06:002017-08-06T14:52:20.168-06:00The Pied Pipers of Antotonilco<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-66059356570503776962017-08-04T14:49:00.001-06:002017-08-04T14:49:14.740-06:00We've Moved to Guanajuato for August<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We lucked out on this one. A few miles from the center of Guanajuato is this beautiful house. The English owners, from Phoenix, spend time here in the summer to escape the heat of the desert and just left a few days ago, leaving us in charge. We have a maid and gardener at our disposal. We constantly order them around without mercy. <br />
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This is the back porch area where we had drinks and dinner last night. Fergus is inspecting the plant life for traces of the owner's dogs.<br />
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The "front yard" has a beautifully cared for lawn inside a stone wall. There is a huge carriage door which just barely allows us to park the car inside the grounds. We are situated next door to a pool and racquet club and I thought I might be able to swim there in the mornings. We personally contacted the manager and she showed us the form we would need to fill out. Naturally it was in Spanish and probably would have taken most of the month to fill out, return and then wait for our references to be checked. Maybe next time. Our interview was conducted entirely in Spanish, except where my memory dredged up previously unknown words of French.<br />
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This is Carmen, our maid, with Nancy. Carmen speaks not a word of English, except "okay" and we speak a lot of Spanish, mostly without verbs. Amazingly, communication is not difficult. Carmen is a tiny little woman and besides being the maid, she also cooks traditional Mexican cuisine. We're going to arrange a night of, possibly, Chicken Mole ("mole" should have an accent mark to differentiate it from skin ailments, but I don't know how to add it, but it's a chocolate based sauce and it's pronounce moe-lay). It will be excellent.<br />
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Here's Fergus with his friend Whitey, who travelled with us all the way from Tucson. They are enjoying one of the living room areas. Neither one of them are allowed on the furniture. Good thing.<br />
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This is the dinning room with it's wonderful table made from an ancient Mexican wooden door. It resides in a sunken area which separates it fro the rest of the living room. So, needless to say, we are being spoiled for a month before we go back home. The weather has turned hot and dry for the highlands of Mexico, anyway. It might be getting up into the mid to high 80's and really cools off at night. We are expecting rain and cooler temperatures soon, but in any case, it's hotter 'n hell in Tucson. So, we're happy.North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-22163639699658190322017-08-04T14:03:00.004-06:002017-08-04T14:03:44.527-06:00Yarn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For my sister, Leslie, who loves yarns and knitting. From the San Miguel Mask Museum's art studio.<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-50500454597877937682017-07-28T07:10:00.001-06:002017-07-28T11:39:31.060-06:00The San Miguel Mask MuseumOne of the most extraordinary places to visit in San Miguel is the Mask Museum. It's owned by a mask collector and the host of a B&B and a former ad man. Bill's wife, Heidi, is an artist and runs a studio where folk art is displayed and sold. Bill has collected these masks over 26 years and has paid for each and every one, nearly a thousand. Bill, during our tour, stressed he never bought masks that were expressly made for sale, only masks that had been used and retired from duty. His oldest mask is estimated to be 200 years old and the remainder of the masks are around a hundred years old, give or take fifty. The masks are almost all carved from wood, generally one piece. Paint, pig bristles, feathers, sheep's fleece, horsehair, cow tails and other organic materials are incorporated as needed. Here's a link to the website; <a href="http://www.maskmuseumsma.com/">http://www.maskmuseumsma.com</a>. Visit it and the museum if you are within a thousand miles of San Miguel. Now, without further ado, here are some photos. Please understand, I have nothing intelligent to say about the masks, other than they are beautiful and fascinating.<br />
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The groom.</div>
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The bride.</div>
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"Gotta see a dermatologist about this mole, but only after a visit to the dentist."</div>
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Beautiful carving work and nicely painted.</div>
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Bill wouldn't allow photos of the actual masks in the museum itself, but all of the others were fair game, and I might;t add, for sale.North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-36205103700717745982017-07-25T08:33:00.003-06:002017-07-25T08:47:44.626-06:00Antiquedades For SaleYesterday included a visit to several antique vendors. This particular one had some of everything as you will see. I won't comment on all of the photos because, again, as you will see, some defy commentary. Or.........don't ask me, I'm just the photographer.<br />
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Bad place for cows I guess.</div>
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My thinking is that this is a sign that once hung in a Mexican beauty parlour judgeing by the terms, which I think are all hair treatments. Anybody agree or disagree?</div>
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I asked about this ring of corncobs and the explanation is, as I pieced it together, it's some kind of corn grinding system. The corncobs are shaved with a sharp blade and are subsequently ground into corn flour for tortillas. Cob, kernels, the whole works apparently goes into flour. The surface is flat on one side, rather bumpy on the other side.<br />
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Yikes. Run for your lives.</div>
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The owners had several if not several dozen stone, carved sinks and water storage vessels. All but a few were full of water from recent rains, and the water had been there long enough to have mosquito larvae floating on the surface. Stagnant water and mosquitoes go together like peanut butter and crackers.<br />
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I picked up one of these bottles to examine it, and lo and behold, it was also part of the mosquito breeding project. And woodworm preservation too, it appears.</div>
<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-48534295949292097222017-07-25T07:42:00.001-06:002017-07-25T07:43:31.948-06:00Furniture Makers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We drove by a furniture maker yesterday, actually there were two of them side by side, and we decided to drop in and look around. The table above, we were told, was for a church. I couldn't quite understand what the hole in the table top was for except that something made of stone was to sit there. Holy water vessel? Artifact? A carved Jesus? Who knows? Our Spanish is pretty good (like our French) when it comes to a bar or restaurant, but not here. The hammer was well lused and had a taped up handle. I've owed hammers like that, and the tape is not a good sign for the future of the hammer.<br />
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One of their creations sitting ouside in the weather.<br />
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The workshop had numerous items in progress. You can see the table, a bench which has beautiful hand carved decoration (perhaps also destined for the church), a bed (probably not for the church) and several kinds of cabinets in progress.<br />
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A detail of the bench's hand carved leg. Man, they just don't make 'em like this anymore.<br />
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Here's their competitor next door. They have a table in the works also. They seemed to be more involved in repairing and refurbishing older furniture that had seen better days. I was more intrigued with the old, faded lettering on the adobe wall. "Builders of furniture of a rustic nature. Kitchens, doors and windows."<br />
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<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-66352679548054141372017-07-25T07:01:00.002-06:002017-07-25T07:16:12.530-06:00Wampy or the Horrible Life of Mexican DogsWe made a visit to an antiques dealer yesterday, who used three Dobermans as night duty guards. Outside the fence was a dog house and I was unsure whether it was for sale or not. The antiques themselves were in quite a disarray so it was not out of line to be confused.<br />
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The Dobermans were on the inside of the grounds, on chains and in cages. They didn't like Fergus at all. But...back to the beginning. I had noticed the dog house had a name, "Wampy", painted on the outside and I wondered briefly whether it was a misspelling of Wimpy. What did it mean?<br />
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"Welcome" and "Come in" are painted on the colorful wall. As I was leaving I decided to take a picture of the large grinding wheel. I am going to assume it was once used in corn flour mill to grind dried corn, of which a lot is grown in these parts. As I got closer what did I see but Wampy herself. (Not that I'm sure of the gender of the critter. Just a feeling.)<br />
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<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-7554038644758571372017-07-19T08:05:00.000-06:002017-07-19T08:07:43.627-06:00The Tuesday Mercado at San Miguel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I think the senoras are making <i>gorditas</i>, but I'm not sure. Anybody know. The senoras we saw used their bare fingers to turn and remove the tortillas from the hot griddle. Their fingers are so callused I'm sure they can't feel anything.<br />
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All kinds of good protein inside and outside a <i>cabeza de vaca</i>. Brains, meat on the cheeks, so on and so forth. It's actually not my area of expertise.<br />
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Chicken feet. We asked the vendor what they were called in Spanish and he said "<i>Patas de pollo</i>." I would imagine that if you bought a number of these you could make quite the soup or broth. Ask Julia Child.<br />
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Add a chicken head, <i>cabeza de pollo</i>, and you've got yourself a meal. The vendor of the <i>patas</i> offered up this delicacy, I think, knowing we would grab our cameras and begin clicking away. I'm absolutely positive we're not the first gringos to be enlightened this way.</div>
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The Mercado was fascinating. Mobile restaurants, mobile hardware stores, vegetable vendors and lots of other types of things, used and new. But certainly the most numerous and well-attended booths were used clothing. Great piles were examined piece by piece and rejected or selected. I have to think that most of the clothing was used and donated to Goodwill or the like and so much of it ends up in Mexico. The first time I came to Mexico, in 1965 or '66, all the rural Mexicans wore the traditional white cotton garments. Now it's t-shirts with "Led Zepplen" silk screened on it and a pair of jeans. </div>
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<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-16018429600003343302017-07-19T06:41:00.005-06:002017-07-19T06:41:47.881-06:00Careful with the Train<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-76834268652408081102017-07-18T07:35:00.000-06:002017-07-18T07:35:10.524-06:00As I Promised, Interior Photos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-16958325014068190782017-07-18T07:24:00.002-06:002017-07-18T07:36:39.553-06:00A Visit to a Place I Can't Pronounce - Atotonilco<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Tacos, empanadas, burritos, chicken salad. What's cooking? I'm not sure.<br />
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Peppers, perhaps frijoles in the clay pot staying warm on the wood fire.</div>
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The fiesta was entering it's third and probably final day. It was before lunch and not too long after breakfast and people, the few up that early including two gringos, wandered around looking at the aftereffects of the day before. This senora was dishing up tacos of some kind. Her cooking devices were as you see above. One was propane fired. The other was wood fired, and as I was taking a picture the smoke curled up into my face.</div>
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I took a lot of pictures of the amount of trash left in the street. I decided not to use them. Partly because the photos seemed to diminish the litter, and partly because it was slowly being swept up, and lastly it seemed to be unfair criticism. Where in the US we'd send a street sweeper; ten wheels, chugging diesel engine, swirling brushes, three for four passes and it's all done. In Mexico it's one lonely guy with an old broom and the whole day ahead of him. With job security.</div>
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Three guys were killing time before the hordes showed up. They were playing with what we think were Spanish playing cards. Costumes on the kings, queens and jacks suggested medieval royalty. They were gambling with peso coins stacked up in small piles. Judging by their seating, they weren't in the game for the long haul.</div>
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</u>North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-17822873781466110392017-07-13T13:31:00.004-06:002017-07-13T13:32:54.580-06:00Mexican Man Builds Beautiful Wall with Beautiful Door<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We ran across this gentleman building a wall outside of San Miguel. It was beautiful, and excellent work. But judging by his lack of friendliness, I think it was a wall to keep North Americans out of San Miguel. And I can't say I blame him one bit. </div>
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We went into central San Miguel, the beautiful historic portion (Centro) to take care of some business with the Colorado Dept. of Revenue from 2012. We needed to print out some documents and send them off to Denver. So we went to an office services business....think Mailboxes Etc. If a person wanted to meet Americans you could do no better than hang out at La Connexcion for a few hours. People were receiving their mail, sending faxes, wiring money, using the computers and the internet, and they were all Americans or perhaps Canadians. And they were all white, in their sixties and climbing. (Like us.)</div>
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This business of being a resort town, a very attractive resort town, has it's ups and downs. The rich Anglos (and Mexicans from Mexico D.F.) buying up the nice properties, are goosing the economy and providing work for everyone. But sleepy San Miguel is no more. People are everywhere, and it is said 10% are North Americans. Diesel smog, taxis, busses, work crews, maids, vendors, scooters, bicycles, four-wheelers, all converge on Centro and it's a madhouse. When we visited seven years ago we could not have predicted the growth and it's been going on since a little after WWII. What's not to like? It's a beautiful, colonial town, with nice cool weather year round, or eternal springtime, as they like to say. So it is better than being in a oil boomtown in North Dakota.</div>
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<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-45458944474493410772017-07-09T13:58:00.000-06:002017-07-09T14:11:21.745-06:00 Five Guys at the Flea Market in San Miguel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-74819413222339194982017-07-08T16:03:00.001-06:002017-07-08T16:04:49.384-06:00From our Photo Files<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A waiter, waiting for the lunch rush to begin. In San Miguel de Allende on the Plaza Jardin.<br />
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A nice lady eating an <i>elote</i> because I asked her to take a bite for my camera. An <i>elote</i> is corn on the cob, roasted on a grill, salted and buttered and served on a stick. This was in Dolores Hidalgo today. Dolores Hidalgo is the birthplace of the Mexican War of Independence in 1821, and there are numerous statues of the participants, chief among them, Benito Juarez and Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla, fathers of the movement.</div>
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Here is the elote stall with the vendors preparing their product. Pretty simple.</div>
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<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-68544916967923954432017-07-07T07:41:00.001-06:002017-07-07T07:41:24.210-06:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This photo of the newspaper lady in the main plaza in San Miguel de Allende is similar to the one Nancy took just a few minutes before and has posted on Instagram. Hers is better, better composition and lighting so you can go and compare. Not to mention she took the photo with a telephone, of all things. Just think of it. It also tells time and plays music. And who reads newspapers anymore, anyway. Wow. </div>
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<a class="_4zhc5 notranslate _jozwt" href="https://www.instagram.com/naahcee/" title="naahcee">naahcee</a></div>
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<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-4706046512175592672017-07-05T16:41:00.001-06:002017-07-05T16:41:05.900-06:00The Suburbs of San MiguelWe've settled in to our beautiful house for the month of July and I thought everyone, especially my family, would appreciate some photos of the place. First let me reassure those who doubted our plan that going south from Tucson, we could find cooler weather in of all places....Mexico. Well, the city of Mexico D.F. is known for having a climate of eternal springtime, and San Miguel is no different. The high temperature has been something like 75F and we've had cool nighttime sleeping weather. We've had sun, fog and rain, lightning, sideways rain, mostly sun. But the fact remains, the elevation is around 6300 ft. or 1900 meters, and the air is mostly dry and cool. Our strategy has actually worked and we've left the heat of Tucson behind. We'll see what the future brings.<br />
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So...on to the house.<br />
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The house is ivy covered and has a beautiful front door, the whole package worthy of southern France. The courtyard, one of several, is/are filled with plants, trees flowers of all kinds and there is always a sunny space and a shady one where one can sit and soak up the ambiance.<br />
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The roof is another space for sun or shade, and has spaces to dine, do yoga (no, not me),<br />
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and even a small kitchen area. The cupola lets light into the bedroom below. The nice tree shades the lower courtyard.<br />
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I didn't take any pictures of the interior, but I will post some, once the maid comes and cleans up the mess we've made with our belongings, food shopping and general sloth.<br />
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But of course, as in a lot of Mexico, the problem lies with the neighborhood. I always thought little of zoning laws, neighborhood covenants, but I never ignored the benefits of an established neighborhood. Out here in the suburbs of San Miguel, it is an empty canvas. The road is unpaved and eroded, the neighbors haven't yet finished their dream homes, construction material and trash lies about. Well, it needs work, but in the meantime, we're loving our situation and the weather. Tomorrow we head into beautiful San Miguel for some culture, coffee, lunch, and a cold beer.<br />
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<br />North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-73137025718422290792017-07-04T09:59:00.002-06:002017-07-04T09:59:27.335-06:00Catedral Basilica de ZacatecasOther than the aqueduct, the Cathedral is the most popular tourist visitor attraction in Zacatecas. We visited on a Sunday morning so it was not an opportune time to walk around inside and take photographs among the parishioners. And it's hard to get far enough away from the cathedral for a camera lens to capture the entire building, the width, height and majesty. So I apologize for this photograph. But in any case, it's beautiful.<br />
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You can read about on Wikipedia and learn about the texture on the façade and when it was built. One of these days, I will do the same.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiWU-wkZFC0dltnpSzmiQyuZsmXKl8ghIPU8QEEHTFty7TxrQFPdjctRyvhLBSXhdFXG5Io2N4xRFXkgq3oSRfFQ5ud7pOm-WusnY5cI7SAncY7ED7aQg16ArcGJqBvRSHij9zoLfesA/s1600/DSC09057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiWU-wkZFC0dltnpSzmiQyuZsmXKl8ghIPU8QEEHTFty7TxrQFPdjctRyvhLBSXhdFXG5Io2N4xRFXkgq3oSRfFQ5ud7pOm-WusnY5cI7SAncY7ED7aQg16ArcGJqBvRSHij9zoLfesA/s320/DSC09057.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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The columns give you some idea of the rest of the façade, but basically it's very intricate hand carved stone.</div>
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I found it interesting that the hands on most of the human figures have been removed, on purpose or vandalized, who knows. Perhaps the hands were removed to facilitate the installation of chicken wire to prevent pigeons leaving their gracious gifts. I hope the hands are safe and stored somewhere in the cathedral.</div>
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The major doors are very impressive, and large. But I found this small service door to be charming even though, or because, it's beginning to weather and deteriorate at the lower end. Apparently, judging by the holes in the stone, there was some sort of decoration or weather protection that has been removed.</div>
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Zacatecas, once you leave the outskirts of the historical center, gives you the feeling of being in Spain during the colonial era. All the signs are hand painted on the front of the buildings. The electrical wires are pretty well hidden and the only clues that you are indeed in Mexico, is that the cars are mostly American. By the way, feel free to include corrections of spelling, facts, poor writing or any mistakes whatsoever in the comments. I am writing this from the comfort of our comfortable and delightful place in San Miguel de Allende, about which you will see here soon. Adios till next time.</div>
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North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5425550699774238271.post-54142355192277185172017-07-03T17:20:00.000-06:002017-07-04T04:50:34.507-06:00Zacatecas - Fifty Years LaterOn a high school trip, fifty years or so ago, we went through Zacatecas, and I can't remember whether it was day or night. We were dazed from the miles and lack of sleep and sheer overwhelming new information to process. What I do remember is an aqueduct built by the Spaniards in the colonial era to supply water to the mining town of Zacatecas. As an un-traveled kid from Denver, it was the oldest man-made object I had ever seen. Yesterday, while roaming around the old town of the old silver ciy, there it was once again. And while it hadn't changed, my perspective certainly has. I've seen Roman aqueducts and cave paintings from 13,000 years ago. But it was impressive still.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ldE9gj2I-lOXz9YvtCVFJpuV_6oB_El6RMAJuYNJleLm5TrZ0Aka2wlDES0zL6QEmQwSC51y7R6QiBVjc1YW6Syj5InEXhukpMNiHpOkkQAlf4-DX7TP-MBLcOZOXl6RKXl8fAUyGMI/s1600/DSC09046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ldE9gj2I-lOXz9YvtCVFJpuV_6oB_El6RMAJuYNJleLm5TrZ0Aka2wlDES0zL6QEmQwSC51y7R6QiBVjc1YW6Syj5InEXhukpMNiHpOkkQAlf4-DX7TP-MBLcOZOXl6RKXl8fAUyGMI/s400/DSC09046.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
Fifty years later it no longer had houses built between the stone supports. The bull ring next door is gone and turned into luxury lodging. But the majestic feat of building the aqueduct remains in a 70 yard stretch. And the daily traffic of the city flows underneath it. Look at the detail in the stonework.<br />
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Fifty years is a long time between visits and Zacatecas has changed in many ways. One thing is unchanged; the people were wonderful, and the accommodations were glorious. Nancy and I have never had a pleasant moment in Mazatlán in three or four visits, but Zacatecas never lets us down. Another thing has endured. No one speaks English, telling me that the place is undiscovered by the neighbors to the north. And it is a mystery why not. No beaches, I suppose. Our hotel was from the Spanish colonial days, Hostel del Vasco. Our room was a converted garage, we think. It had doors that opened to the street, and Zacatecas being at 8000 feet, it was cool, so we did not try to open them, but we could have. And the purpose our travels was to escape the heat of Tucson, so we were happy. <br />
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This young fellow was guarding the door to some place on the main drag. He was across the street from the marvelous cathedral, but I don't know why the 1930'Mussolini getup. But he was friendly, unlike most dictators. Just a few steps away was this lady in another incredible costume. She was selling things I didn't need, but I was interested in her lovely face.<br />
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Next time, some photos of the beautiful city of Zacatecas. I hope it's not another fifty years before my next visit.North of Andorrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06199381759209397228noreply@blogger.com3