A Bus Ride to Town

 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. 

When we got to Centro, there was this sign reminding me to get out my camera.

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.

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.

 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.

 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.

An older couple (about the same age as Nancy and I) waiting for the bus home.

The Pied Pipers of Antotonilco

We've Moved to Guanajuato for August

 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.  

 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.

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.

 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.

 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.

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.

Yarn

For my sister, Leslie, who loves yarns and knitting.  From the San Miguel Mask Museum's art studio.

The San Miguel Mask Museum

One 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; http://www.maskmuseumsma.com.  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.

 The groom.

 The bride.

 "Gotta see a dermatologist about this mole, but only after a visit to the dentist."

 Beautiful carving work and nicely painted.

   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.

Antiquedades For Sale

Yesterday 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.

Bad place for cows I guess.

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?

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.

 Yikes.  Run for your lives.

 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.

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.