The latest in Lucha

Mikko reports on an exciting six on six match with some known names and some that are from his imagination.  Notice his excellent accent.

Xmas day 2007

The xmas eve mole dinner was delicious. I think it was the best I’ve had. Unfortunately the preparation of it attracted every bee in the neighborhood into our house, and I had to perform the ritual xmas eve bee slaughter. They were cooperative enough. They came in, landed on the windows, I would wack one with a newspaper and go onto the next one. We closed the balcony doors, but soon realized that they were coming under the door. It all worked out and no one got stung, but it did get a little too warm and stuffy in the house with the doors closed.

To continue from the previous post. Santa seems to have come AFTER I fell asleep to the what sounded like artillery fire off the balcony. I woke at 4 am or so to the baby swinging song being sung over and over in a nearby house. It was beautiful, accompanied by fiddle, base and guitar. I fell back to sleep, and woke again at 6 when Mikko woke up looking for signs of Santa. That sneaky fellow seems to have come during one of my brief episodes of sleep.

We had a lovely xmas morning. The grandparents came over around 9 and we opened the heaps of presents, which was fun and fruitful. As you might imagine, it was a lucha rich xmas. Mikko and I both got eachother Lucha rings and guys. We ended up trading rings because the one he got me was bigger and more utilitarian and the one I got him was smaller and more decorative.

We had a delicious eggs and bacon breakfast and then just hung out.

At around 3 pm Anna, our land lady and her friend Annie, came by and picked me up to go for a horseback ride on the ranch before the big xmas cena. We were all invited to come to the ranch, for tamales, pozole, ponche and baby swinging, but it turned out that everyone else in my family was too tired and stayed in town. So I was the sole Portland/Sequim representative out there.

This is Dulcinea, the sweet horse I rode.

The ranch from the top of the hill.

We rode for about an hour, maybe less, down to a river bed, with a bit of river running through and had some iced coffee. A goat herd came by just as we got there with a fellow on a donkey herding them.

I sure love goats.

My legs were super sore, having not ridden for more than a few minutes in close to 30 years!!! But after our little rest and chat at the river I was fine.

Dulcinea, the horse I was riding was super sweet and perky and responsive to my will. We even cantered a bit. We headed back as the sun was setting and got back just in time for the odd uncertain waiting time that seems to accompany most functions here in Mexico. Dinner was delicious, and then it was time to swing the baby.

Some of you may wonder what it is I speak of when I say swing the baby. Well, in every nativity, which is in most every house, there is of course, at least one baby Jesus.

Each baby Jesus has a set of godparents who are responsible for clothing and caring for the baby for the next three years. During this period of Christmas families and friends gather to rock the baby in a pretty cloth. That is the godparents’ job. Everyone else gathers around with candles and sparklers, throwing confetti and streamers and singing a very pretty song that goes for a very long time. I didn’t catch all the words, but the jist is that the baby has come to earth as our salvation and we love him and he loves us and stuff like that. After the song, the godfather takes the baby around and everyone kisses his little head. Last night there were three babies to swing. They each got a new outfit put on them by their godparents, then they were taken outside in their little swings and we started singing.

I’m getting a face full of confetti at the end of this video.

After we each kiss the baby the godmother comes around and gives everyone a little goody bag snacks and/or candy.

And then it is time for the piñata.

The piñata is made of clay, so my big concern was that an innocent, blindfolded child would get knocked out by the piñata, but everything unfolded with no injuries.

At about midnight, the three of us squeezed back into Anna’s little two seater porche and headed back into town. I shook as much confetti as I could out of my hair and crawled into bed. (I did find one last piece of confetti in my belly button as I drifted off to sleep.)

People don’t move here for the quiet

Or if they do, they are sorely disappointed.

It is 1 a.m. Christmas morning. Mikko and I are sleeping upstairs in hopes of catching Santa red handed. I’m not hopeful that Mikko will because it sounds like there is a battlefield just outside our door and he has been fast asleep for hours. The fireworks have been going all night, but they really picked up about midnight. The whole basin that is Guanajuato is filled with smoke. My eyes are actually stinging and I am sitting inside on my couch. There are m80 type explosions as well as those whistling kind and even sparklers that people throw from their rooftops. I’m glad that the building material of choice here is concrete and stucco. The sounds of the blasts echo back and forth between the basin walls.

Here is a video I took at 12:20. The noises you hear are not me tapdancing, they are the fireworks. There continues to be that much if not more noise, as I write. Cheeze!! They are SO LOUD. And the poor dogs are barking up a storm.

The people down below are swinging the Baby Jesus and singing him a special song. It is what people do the last night of Posada now that Mary and Joseph have finally found their stable and the baby has been born. Carlyn was in town today and saw many people carefully carrying around their Niños. Unfortunately we made it through the whole nine days of Posada and never happened upon, or were invited to a Posada. We will be going out to our landlady/lord’s ranch today for a little Niño swinging, so all is not lost.

Well, I uploaded the wrong one. I had a better one of the Niño swinging but you get the idea. It is loud and there is a lot of activity into the wee hours. It is 2 am now and things have died down a tiny bit. But I do hear a party across the way and lots of loud little kid voices sailing into the basin. Maybe I will try to get some sleep. Still no sign of Santa.

the nativity is where it’s AT

The nativity is everywhere!  And now I’m off to make mole poblano for x-mas eve dinner.

The Pastorale that the teachers at Mikko’s school put on the night of the last day of school.

Xmas images from Central Mexico

the Minis and Merch on 12-12

A kind of lame attempt at editing, but here are some shots of the minis’ match.

And some of the ubiquitous merch that can be had.

12-12 night of lucha libre

Monday was our second night of Lucha in good ol’ Guanajuato. It was fabulous as was expected. Even better than the last time actually. We were right up front!! Look, this is the legendary Blue Demon Jr. overpowering the legendary Hijo de El Santo. They were so close I could have touched them, I didn’t though because I was taking the picture.

OK - I am sensing that some people need a little background on Lucha Libre. LUCHA means FIGHT. LIBRE means FREE. So literally it means Free Fight. It is a combination of wrestling, boxing, martial arts (basically, all fighting techniques,) including lots of acrobatics. For me it is mostly a spectacle, full of humor, drama and action and sprinkled with a lot of love.

Mexican wrestlers started wearing masks and adopting personas to match in the 1930s. (It was actually a wrestler from the US wearing a mask that inspired a Mexican promoter to promote mask wearing in Mexico.) El Santo is probably the most famous luchadore. He was biggest during the 50s and 60s. He was not only a luchadore in the ring, he also starred in movies and was the star of a comic book series, always with his mask and cape. People loved him. He was a super hero that you could see in real life. Even though he has been dead for 20 years he is still the best known and best loved luchadore.

On Monday we saw El Santo’s son, Hijo de El Santo, fight against the sons of two of his contemporaries, Blue Demon, and Dr. Wagner Sr. who were also big and starred in movies, but not as big as El Santo. Hijo deEl Santo’s partner was Gronda XXX who I had never heard of. He was a giant, who seemed pumped by steroids and dressed as the devil. I wasn’t so crazy about him.

That match was a little confusing for me, because I’m used to rooting for the technicos, who are typically the “good guys” who play by the rules but in this match Blue Demon Jr. and Dr. Wagner were the rudos, who are supposed to be the “bad boys,” and they were beautiful together. Talk about love. You can see some of it in this video that Matthew took. Unfortunately the big galoot is in the way when they do their twinkle finger love thing.

And let me just say - Lucha Libre is nothing like WWF. (I have never really watched WWF, but I have seen the commercials and I find it all quite disturbing.) There is real love and humor in the ring with Lucha.  It doesn’t have the soap opera/Jerry Springer type vibe that WWF has.

I suppose you are wondering where I find the love. I have been wondering that myself, ever since I wrote it. The love I see is in the crowd. People are laughing and taunting and teasing, but it is the way you tease your siblings or your best friends, it isn’t mean spirited or angry. There is also that love between the luchadores, they tease and taunt, and pummel eachother just like siblings. And so many of the moves are so well choreographed that you feel that they are all working together to create a good experience for everyone involved.

And then of course you can bring that love home.

Lucha lucha and more lucha

Our friend Sandro just sent us some pictures that he took with some friends. I find them particularly beautiful.

Tonight is the night 12 of us will be going to see our second lucha match in GTO! At this point I am just counting down the minutes.

A number of people have commented or emailed me with their puzzlement at my enchantment and enthusiasm for this sport/art/spectacle. Particularly when looking at these pictures, I am equally puzzled at anyone’s lack of enchantment.

It might be a little like now, at times when someone is speaking Spanish to us and what they are saying seems so clear to me, I am surprised when whoever I am with doesn’t understand. (I hope that doesn’t sound like boasting - there are many times that I don’t understand either.)

Our lady of Guadalupe

Yesterday was the day of the Virgin of Guadalupe or Our Lady of Guadalupe, or La Virgin Moreno (the dark skinned virgin.) She is the most important religious icon in Mexico.

This is what I learned in my culture class (with a little help from Wikapedia):

In the 16th century the Spaniards were struggling to convert the indigenous people to catholicism. Luckily a Nahuatl fellow, Juan Diego, who was one of the first converts, and very devout, met the Virgin Mary on a hill outside of what is now Mexico City. She told him to tell the church to build a temple to her on that spot. When he told the bishop, the bishop didn’t believe him and said he would need a sign. Juan went back and Mary told him to pick flowers to show the bishop. It was December so flowers were out of season, but when he went up the hill there were Spanish roses blooming. Mary placed a bunch of roses into Jaun’s poncho type thing called a tilma. He took them down to show the bishop. As the roses fell out of his tilma, the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe appeared on the cloth.

What makes her special and what seemed to win over a lot of people is that she is dark skinned, she is pregnant and there are many other symbols in the image that match the indigenous religions of that time.

This was supposed to have happened over the days of December 9th to the 12th. The 12th being the day the image appeared. Therefore the 12th is super important. Everyone goes to the temple of Guadalupe, (I believe most towns have one,) to give an offering. Many women and children dress in traditional indigenous outfits, I’m not sure why men don’t. The little boys get mustaches and sideburns painted on them so they will look like Juan - though, I don’t think indigenous people had facial hair… hmmm. Well that’s what people do anyway.

We walked up the road to the temple with a whole passle of kids and the rest of the town. My mother and stepfather just got here, so they got to experience the whole thing too. Of course the way up was full of vendors, selling all the delicious food, cheap plastic toys, tee shirts and baskets of fruits and vegetables for the offerings.

All along the way there were these beautiful backdrops set up so that people could get their pictures taken with the virgin.

We didn’t make into the temple. The crowd action was just too… crowded. And by that time the baby had fallen asleep in my arms, which was amazing considering the crush of people I was making my way through.

So we found ourselves a place to sit in the shade, past the crowds, then headed back down to town on a different route.

And my camera ran out of battery.

Oops - I skipped school again

I had vowed that I wouldn’t even let the option into my head, even though Wednesday is one of the most important days in Mexico. It is my last week and I am actually enjoying all my classes, so I thought it would be easy.

On Wednesday Mikko had the day off school, but I didn’t - so I was going to be a good girl and go to school anyway. BUT then we found ourselves with two extra kids, for a few days. Their parents had to go to Mexico City and their babysitter fell through. I sensed the panic in Matthew’s voice when he asked, if I was still planning to go to school. The eight year old would be easy but there is also a two year old who is very easy going, but he IS two and we haven’t really dealt with little ones for a while and I happen to be crazy about him, and I hadn’t had time to do my homework anyway so I skipped.

I guess I just had to get that off my chest.

(The reason I am posting this at 4 in the morning is, the little one is sleeping with me in my bed and he is a whirling dervish!  I am so worried that he is going to fling himself off the bed, that I can’t sleep.The one time I did fall into a real sleep - he did fly off the bed.)