Loud startling booms and cracks could be heard throughout the week at all hours of the day and night. One night I looked at the clock that read 5:30 and wondered if people ever slept. The firecrackers are deceiving in that you jump at the noise but are not rewarded with any beautiful color falling from the sky. Walking the streets offers you the privilege of hearing bands of all sorts playing in the streets. On Tuesday, the zócalo began to fill with amusement rides of all sorts - carousel, spinning seats... at 9pm and later los chamacos (young people) from the schools are pairing up to experience the thrill of a ride. By Thursday evening traffic was rerouted and the streets surrounding the zócalo were closed to allow every type of vender imaginable to set up shop. The churrería sells all things fried like churros, bananas, french fries. One man sits behind a small table covered in slabs of meat. Roast beef is my best guess. The zócalo air is steaming with the smell of tacos and chalupas from the stands that have popped up on corners and side streets. I could buy decorative pottery and earthenware to cowboy hats to kitchen pots and pans to all variety of clothing.
Friday festivities finished with the burning of el castillo which we watched rooftop from the Dyrst home as a finale to our team welcome dinner for me. El castillo is a tall metal construction in the middle of the zócalo that is filled with sparklers and fireworks. They light the lower level ones which spin and twirl raining sparks on the crowd only a few feet from the structure. Spark by spark the burning climbs el castillo until the grand finale at the top along with the familiar fireworks that we associate with the 4th of July.
All of the week’s activities and preparations culminated in the Saturday events. The streets were packed with vendors, tourists, and extended family returning for the weekend. Outside of the church, the ground was covered with cempasúchitl and peticon, gold flowers sold to decorate the church to make necklaces that would adorn St. Francis. Behind the church, the floats of flowers began to be constructed for the afternoon’s parade.
The last of the community processions to bring their offering of flowers to the church passed the apartment close to noon. The Zacango community members, having walked more than an hour from the community, carried large poll structures intricately covered in the gold flowers which would be offered to the church. The community is very proud of their work and procession which is known to be one of the best. On Thursday, Bruce, a MCC worker living in Zacango, woke up at 4am to accompany the men of the community to pick the needed amount of flowers for the decorations. Returning by noon, each family had their stock of flowers that they would use for their offering. Bruce’s wife Jaime wanted to learn how to weave the flowers into the decorations, but reluctantly the kids told her that this was usually the man’s job.
As the weekend is a celebration of Olinalá, there was an exhibition on Saturday of the artesian work that is nationally known. The lacquer work features detailed painting and craftsmanship using linaloe wood from native trees that are unfortunately becoming scarce in the area. Almost everyone in town is somehow connected with the artesian process be it as a craftsman or a vender. For the exhibition, the artisans entered their best piece or pieces for judging. The entries included large hope chests, tables, and trays to the traditional and more common boxes. While I haven’t spent enough time here to distinguish the various levels of quality in the work, the designs and colors of the highlighted work was impressive.
By 4 pm people were sitting on the curbs of the streets and venders were moving to the sides in preparation for the big procession. Despite the descriptions that I had heard previously, nothing could have prepared me for the bizarre blend of Halloween and scared pilgrimage that I was about to witness. The parade began at the church and followed a large loop around the town gaining strength and people along the way finishing at the church two hours later.
Anyone is allowed to participate in the procession and allowed to join at any point along the walk, but basically three types of groups participate. First are the costumed in varying degrees of appropriateness. Many of the children who choose to participate are dressed as tigers, the traditional costume. I have asked various people why it is a tradition to dress as tigers. The standard answer is, “I don't know. It's just tradition.” I have also heard that before the conquistadores there was trading with the
Those in costumes are almost exclusively boys and men. So along with the tigers there are those wearing scary monster masks or what is supposed to be a woman’s face. It’s difficult to understand how this became a tradition, but the men, mostly youth, dress up as women scantly clad and the more inappropriate the better, so I’ll let you use your imagination. In something out of a Girls Gone Wild video, the monsters and women dance in the streets making lewd gestures trying to shock spectators. As they all have masks on, there is no recourse for their actions, and as these are festival days, many have been drinking since morning and have continued throughout the parade.
The groups danced the streets to the music of the various oompa bands in the parade that I probably have been hearing throughout the week. There were two organized groups of boys dressed as swordsmen and kings mixed in among the madness, which seemed almost out of place in there innocence.
The religious part of the procession followed the Halloween at its worst contingent as if in absolution for what preceded. Incense and flowers welcomed the altar for Saint Francis that was surrounded by decorations made of chiles and gold flowers. I had to wonder what St Francis would think of this celebration for him in what seemed to be a disturbing mix of scared and obscene.
By this time, many people and spectators had joined the procession to the church where St. Francis entered the church and the merry makers continued to dance in the zócalo. As the excitement of the procession receded, people anticipated the evening’s burning of el castillo that was even larger and more spectacular than the evening before.
From the apartment I watched the fireworks and particularly enjoyed the end that included sparklers depicting a helicopter that spun around and shot in the air eventually falling to the ground of what remained. With the end of the castillo, the town could finally prepare for the much anticipated baile, that I had heard about since I came, at the soccer field which include three bands all playing either banda, cumbia or duranguense.
We arrived at midnight after a short drive standing 15 thick in the back of a pickup. The crowd included the young, the drunk, the dancers and the old all eager for one of the biggest events of the year. The $21 entrance fee gave me hours for learning the necessary shuffle step, listening to a 1-2 beat of the bands on two stages and watching pairs bounce to the beat. By 3:30am my dusty feet would have been ready to shuffle home, but the 20 somethings I was with would have found it disappointing as none of the hundreds had left or were even considering that the evening might be over. We left at 5:30 shortly after an interesting dance contest on stage, with the music and dancing still in high gear. I woke this morning to more booms and cracks of firecrackers. The fiesta continues.
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