First Days of Huejuquilla

We're fortunate to arrive just before the celebration of Huejuquilla's patron saint, San Diego. A perigrinacion makes its way through town, it's destination the iglesia. Dansantes perform in front of the church. The feathers and the cross, this is Mexico.

At night the town gathers around the town square. In the church courtyard: music, theater, atole. Later, the traditional fireworks. This is really the holiday season now--in a week is November 20, Dia de la Revolucion, a secular celebration of course, but a reason for the pueblo to come together nonetheless. Following that is the Dia de la Virgen Guadalupe, and then of course Christmas, New Year's, Dia de los Reyes...Did I miss one? In between there's no reason not to have carnivales and bailes.

This is an aspect of small town living that I long for in good old Gridley, California: the regular rhythms of town gatherings and celebrations--days of explosions set off by days of work and peace. Maybe I'm idealizing the life of a Mexican pueblo, but Gridley by contrast seems constantly on the verge of exploding, and everyday is an effort to repress this urge, to control one's self.

Is Gridley poised for a riot, you're asking? No--far from it, actually. Gridley is under control, and any notion of resistance is quickly diminished by the rapid passage of Time. Time passes in astonishing ways in the US: one goes to work, one ends his/her day, and then it seems there isn't much left but sleep or TV. Time in Mexico, meanwhile, seeps by, it comes and goes like families visiting. Sometimes time is their, and sometimes it's not. At 11pm one still feels it's early--an hour before bed is so much time! The next day begins early, and it's oh so far away.