A Tiny Taste of Tonala

On the hottest day of the year so far, Allen and Travis and I drove from Ajijic to meet Salvador, who manages the restaurant and bar at Quinta Don José, my favorite place to stay in the town of Tlaquepaque. Salvador is also a shopper--a guide to the adjacent town of Tonala, which is the mecca of furniture and accessories seekers in this part of Mexico.

In the center of Tonala, two main avenues meet in a T. They are lined with shops, most of which sell the same things over and over: glassware, chairs, hand-painted Talavera pottery, assorted folk art, and some of the worst knickknacks you have ever laid eyes on. But hidden in the drab and dusty back streets are the fábricas, the workshops where families make furniture of wood and leather; where glass is blown, lamps are formed, and iron is forged. The thing is, these places are nearly impossible to discover on one's own.

So I'd made arrangements to get an overview with Salvador, who turned out to be a very nice guy but something of a novice in the job. Fortunately, the excellent staff at Quinta Don José--who regularly host hosts of new homeowners and visiting shopkeepers from all over--knew of a place that made tin lamparas, which was my real focus this trip.

I'd also mentioned in passing that I was looking for something to use as a dining room table. So the first place Salvador drove us was here:

Nope, nothing I wanted. I was back in the car in ninety seconds flat.

We meandered through a few narrow streets looking for an address which turned out to belong to this little shop.

We cast sidelong glances at each other. We were all pretty sure that I was not looking for a suit of armor, although the ax had a certain appeal. Salvador approached the young ladies sitting and chatting behind a little desk. One of them waved her arm apathetically out toward the street and down-the-block-ish. We trooped out the back door and in through another door and found this:

Let's put it in the category of "Now, That's More Like It!"

This is the fábrica and warehouse for the small front shop. The owner -- who talked on his cellphone the entire time we were there, even while on the ladder -- proceeded to take down each lamp I pointed to and carry it over to show me how it looked lit up. I wish the photo I'd taken of this procedure had turned out, but it didn't. Let me just tell you that he used a light bulb in a socket attached to a wire with no prong on the end--just two stripped wire ends which he poked into the two slits in the outlet. Looked a tad bit risky to us, but it worked well enough. 

I didn't choose this one, as the green was too garish for my tastes when lit up. It looks even more so as it is standing upon a mirror. I don't know why. Anyway, I did like the punched pattern in the tin sides and I may have him make it eventually with amber glass, which will probably take him around half an hour. 

He just laid the ones we liked right there on the floor.

Not that red octopus thing--we didn't choose that. But the piece in the front is a treat: a votive candle holder with an assortment of appeals one can make regarding money or travel, health, partnership, and other hot topics. You'll find it hanging behind one of the old doors in the casa someday...along with a can to put your coins in and a match to light a candle.  

I bought eleven ceiling lamps. He put sockets in them for me for a buck apiece. Given his wiring (or rather, non-wiring) behavior, I'm not sure that was such a swell idea. We'll see. He wrapped them up (still talking on the phone)...

...and we loaded them into Salvador's van.

It was time to pay the bill. Now, when you shop in pesos, everything has an extra zero on the end. You'd think I'd be used to that by now, but I'm not. So when people start with "three thousand...", I always get this little panic pang. Then I remember. Then I have to try to divide by 12.5. With that fairly decent (but not as good as it was) exchange rate, I paid three hundred dollars for my eleven lamparas. 

And another $13 for the votive candle wish-granter.

Not a bad price, if it works. I'll let you know.

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It's been a busy week, plus I have two of my favorite distractions visiting, so I'm cutting this short. Lots going on up at the casa--I'll fill you in next week!

Comments

[Candice]

Dear TGuad, aka Señorita Tracy Guadalupe: next time I take a trip to buy purple nail polish or feather tiaras or sequined gowns or anything with rhinestones, you are SO invited to be my shopper.

Household furnishing and fixtures, however, will have to pass my own personal taste buds. I'm sure you'll find some of my choices excruciatingly boring...but perhaps you'll be dazzled by others. Although I am sadly certain that you will be disappointed in the lack of pinkosity.

Besos back.
Tu tia Candice

[TGuad]

Sister. Please. A little credit. I so taught you everything you know about shopping...¡Besos!

[Char]

Well, we've seen the doors and lights adventures....can hardly wait for the furniture....feels like I am right there shopping along side of you....Love it!

[Jeanne]

Those will be beautiful in your casa. Can't wait for your update next week.

Have fun with your two distractions!

[Gretchen Goodliffe]

I could never even begin to say how absolutely fascinating it is to hear about your mode of shopping for furnishings... no Sears Catalog, no Costco trips, not even a Wally World...... just pure imaginative adventures and travels..... you make the saying.... "it is not the destination, but the Journey that matters" come to life with fireworks. Your destination will be so FULL of your Journey. Thanks again for a little taste of Casa Filling in Mexico. GG