Carnival....same as Mardi Gras, but Mexican...streets packed with
people so tight you can barely slip a screw driver between
them...Cheezy....the food, the rides,
the stuff that they sell in the kiosks set up for these 5 days that
crowd the sides of the main downtown street...I don't go down there at
night...that's when some blood letting can happen...kind of a
community catharsis, in a way....it's not enough to get borracho...too
much passion and aggression for that...last year I heard seven people
drowned in a pool of water, ect.. It seems a normal ritual here. Death
here is looked at differently...accepted...almost embraced. Or else
I'm being too romantic and it's just
crazy stupidity...but? I was hanging with my buddies, Max and
Humberto on the street where Max sells his wooden puzzle/sculptures
and Humberto does great Shiatzu massage
and combs auras. Max's girfriend/wife's brother comes by, smashed with
liquor and a smashed in face he got last night (he's maybe 21). Max
had to carry him home over his shoulder
and he was picking a fight with everyone they passed by.
50 pesos says he doesn't live till Thursday.
The variety of people is magnificent. Chinelos, folks dressed in
costumes satirizing the Spanish Conquerors, dance for hours straight
in the town square...they achieve almost
Sufi like states of...something or other. Sports
clothes....sweatpants, logo shirts, are the norm. Lots of tee shirts
with glitter or beads. Three svelte young girls walk by. followed by
three young swells. Mostly people are polite and considerate in the
crush....Mexicans are not "close talkers",
necessarily, but they don't care...or know..
that much about personal space.