San Pancho Vida

San Pancho Days

On Friday the fourth of September, San Pancho began the nine-day festival that I've not seen for several years, having spent my Septembers in other places. The festival reaches its peak on October 4, the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of this pueblo.

If you're here, you really can't miss it, even if you'd like to. The fireworks (cohetes, big bottle rockets) announce the dawn every morning at 4:45. They explode again at noon, then again around 6 in the evening when each colonia (neighborhood) has its own parade to the church, during which parade and after which parade more cohetes are launched. This goes on for eight days. On the ninth day, the town and its visitors are treated to free food and a whole lot of music. And horses. Oh yeah, and also another parade...with cohetes.

During the whole nine days, the main plaza is ringed by vendors and game booths and carnival rides.

They seem kind of deserted, don't they? That's because that night we went at 9 pm which is way too early. The action doesn't even begin to pick up until 10, and none of the music acts I wanted to see started until well after 11. I missed them.

In Mexico, the carnival games are the old-fashioned kind. They have rocks to throw at bottles (to win a beer) and guns to shoot at clay figures. They're also extremely non-Disney.

Scary, huh? Not as scary as the Crazy Pendulum.

I missed that, too.

On the final night the town was packed. Even the backstreets had cars in every conceivable parking space. I'm guessing there were a thousand people in the plaza.

Speaking of the plaza, wait 'til you see the new mural. A local artist, Ramiro Gonzales aka Cocho, painted the backdrop and then created the Huichol-style designs...in bottle caps.

Plaza del Sol, the big plaza across from the church with the mural and the rides, was empty during the day on the final Saturday. Instead, the town congregated at the little plaza, affectionately known by the gringos here as Domino Park, as the old men of the pueblo spend long hours there over incomprehensible games of dominos. Not today, though. There was too much going on.

Bandas, free food, dancing horses, cotton candy, cold beer, and a place to sit for everyone who wants  one. The perfect Mexican celebration.

I spotted this elegant rider watching his fellow charros perform on their dancing horses.

A while later, this happened.

We're laughing our heads off in this picture. It was lovely.

San Pancho Days is not a North American celebration, nor is it meant to be. But the local people love it. It's Mexican style and on Mexican time. The neighborhood parades followed by a mass at the church are a cherished tradition. People came in droves, even in taxis from other towns, on Saturday night. There weren't many gringos in Domino Park on Saturday afternoon, but I chatted with many Mexican friends, young, old, and in between.

Including Lidia and Santiago.

Now I'm going to go print that photo and give it to them tomorrow morning. They'll love that, too.

Funky Dance and Fancypants

Last Friday, Carol and Canela and I finally made it to Sayulita's weekly market, just in time to catch the last one of the season. We lingered and wandered, visited with people we had or hadn't seen lately, and generally enjoyed the scene, which included, naturally, a belly dancer.

I bought chimichurri from this friendly fellow who made the chopped herb and olive oil concoction himself. I served it Sunday night with pulled pork piled high on fresh baked rolls.

I didn't buy a cigar, even though this man was rolling them by hand in the ancient time-honored manner...while his companion played with her iPad.

I didn't buy any nopal or dips, either, but I stopped to admire the display.

We did buy frankincense and copal (which is different from nopal) from this smiley guy, who sold all kinds of honey and potions that apparently make you very cheerful. 

I liked this view.

Afterwards we were all hungry, so we had lunch at Mirabel's restaurant. It's name is Huichol for 'walking'. She explained that, before settling in Sayulita, she has always moved around, walked about in the world, and that's why she chose the word Yeikame for her delightful restaurant.

In San Pancho the following day, the pueblo was abuzz over the major goings-on just down the beach in front of the Hacienda San Pancho development. Elaborate preparations went on for days. Rumors had swirled and crested all week long. Was a movie being filmed? A commercial? Tall light towers sprouted from the sand. Couches, chairs, tables and dance floor followed. Aha! It was a wedding, and a fancy one at that.

I wandered down before sunset, real nonchalant, and started snapping photos. A full Catholic Mass was underway, with people in fancy dress lined up to take communion as the bride and groom knelt before the priest. A small orchestra played beside the beach altar.

I didn't get too close, trying to be respectful...but sure enough, through my camera lens, I saw this burly fellow trudging toward me through the sand.

Respectful or not, I'm really not that fond of authority figures, particularly on what is ostensibly a public beach.

So I took his picture.

We had a little chat. He informed me that this was a very private wedding. Yeah, yeah, I thought. Very private. Certainly isn't attention getting in any way, is it?

As it turned out, from earlier reconnaissance by our own local wedding planners Nicole (co-owner of Panchito's) and Katy, who cleverly managed to waltz in and scope things out before the guests arrived, it was the wedding of a family member of an ex-ex-ex-Mexican president, which more or less explained Sr. Burly and his security team. All the wedding paraphenalia, including tables, couches, musicians, hardwood dance floor, walkways, carpets, flowers, lights, caterers, food, and priest, were brought in from Guadalajara, four hours away. The four hundred guests were staying at the Four Seasons in Punta de Mita, transported to humble San Pancho for the ceremony. Perfection, planned and accomplished.

I left. I had my shots. As I turned back to the beach restaurant where friends were waiting, I smiled at beautiful funky San Pancho, a far cry from the bazillion-dollar extravaganza down the way, yet so exquisite in the soft pre-sunset light.

At the table, we drank a toast to each other and to the sunset and discussed further reconnaissance reports of evidence that an elaborate fireworks show was to be part of the wedding. That sounded good, so we headed up to my house to wait and watch from the living terrace.

The show, when it finally came, was more fabulous than we'd dared to anticipate. From the beginning, all the fireworks were pure white, some lit from within by showers of gold. Artfully designed of texture, movement and light, the show went on for maybe fifteen minutes (time stops during good fireworks) against the deep purple sky.

Smack in the middle, though, came a surprise: a single giant red flower of fire blossomed inside the white light lace. Only one.

I had to wonder: was it intentional or accidental? I'm going with accidental, a red rocket mistakenly added to the order, inserted into its launcher as white only to explode in a burst of vivid crimson, an abrupt reminder of the folly of the expectation of perfection and the glorious serendipity of real life.

Isn't life on this planet a kick?

My wish for you this week is the peace of perfect white with a red rocket thrown in now and then. 

Gracias a la Vida: A Celebration

Last Thursday was the first night of the big event for entreamigos, which hosted a reception for the children and adults who had contributed their collaborative artwork for the subasta (auction) to raise funds for the organization. The children's parents and siblings were also invited to celebrate and see the pieces the artists had created around this year's theme: the things I am grateful for in life.

The gallery of children's art opened to rave reviews as the young artists showed their work to their families.

After the parents had taken a thorough tour of the art displayed throughout the building, we all trooped outside to the big center courtyard where rows of chairs were arranged before the stage.

The first ten rows or so were reserved for the children who had participated.

Behind them sat proud parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents and brothers and sisters.

One by one, the children were called by name to ascend the steps to the stage and receive their congratulatory certificates. Here is Angie, who turned 7 on February 3rd, and was my partner on the Art is My Life Box.

And here is Antü, age 10, my partner on the blue Friendship Desk and the Viva México mirror.

After each and every one of the one hundred and twenty children had received their personal thanks, the entertainment began.

In Mexico, everybody loves a clown. This pair, in the tradition of Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin, had the crowd laughing and clapping from the moment they stepped on stage.

Not only the children, either.

Then we all had brownies and horchata, a delicious creamy rice milk with cinnamon. This adult liked that, too. 

On Friday afternoon, the open house and auction preview for the public was followed by the Children's Parade down main street. I snapped some photos of the imps in costume in the entreamigos staging area.

Then I skedaddled down Avenida Tercer Mundo to Maria's Restaurant to have a glass of wine and wait for the parade to arrive.

Which it did, in fine fashion.

Our stiltwalkers (who first learned their skill from Cirque du Soleil trainers for the entreamigos auction event Circo de los Niños two years ago) walked from the community center all the way to the Malecon, which is a mile or so...and some of them walked all the way back on stilts, too.

The whole town turned out, and everyone seemed to enjoy the parade. How could you not?

At the Malecon, the paraders gathered for a celebration and a cheer, surrounded by admiring fans and spectators.

And now, as this post is already altogether too long, I will leave you with this photo of Antü and La Piñata. You'll have to wait until Part Two for news about the Main Event...and for photos of the art we created and the art I bought at the auction. 

See you next week. (And don't forget there are only eleven more days to vote again for San Pancho Vida as your favorite Mexico Blog. Thanks a bazillion to those who've been voting!)

The Sleepy Village That Isn't

Whew, what a week in San Pancho! February and early March are always busy in our little pueblito and the activities of past three weeks and upcoming weekend are why.

Last weekend we were treated to the San Pancho Music Festival, which, for you music lovers, is one to put on the calendar if you haven't already. It just keeps getting better.

Imagine, if you will, sitting in the newly refurbished town plaza sipping an icy cold beer from a vendor or a glass of wine from the bottle you brought along. You are probably in your own chair, as the ones supplied are quickly occupied by other listeners. Overhead shine the stars and the nearly-full moon, this year glimpsed between scuttering clouds driven by a cool breeze. You have something warmer to wear for later, as it will be long and festive night.

With two stages this year, there's no lag time: musicians play one after another from early evening on. And what musicians! I'll just hit a few highlights.

Our dazzling local group Dos Bertos y Las Musas--Humberto, Roberto, Nina, and Lau on fiddle--knocked everyone's socks off on Friday night. They play music that spans decades and continents. They sing in Spanish, English, and French. They are full of spirit and obviously having a great time performing and collaborating. And could they possibly be cuter? 

I couldn't get enough of their music. So much so that I went to Darjeeling, one of our great local hangouts, to hear them play some more after the festival. I danced to their gypsy music until midnight when they finally tired from their long day. I guess I did too although I'm not sure. (Thanks, HRN&L. I love having you as part of this community.)

Werther came back Saturday night. The town was all aflutter, especially some of the women whom I will not name. This was his third year at the San Pancho Music Fest, yet there were some in the crowd who hadn't heard him play. They will next time.

Werther Ellerbrock is a guitar virtuoso. He can, and does, play every style of music imaginable, segueing from one style to the next without a break, teasing and delighting his listeners. Werther turns the guitar into a whole new instrument. He's a performer who makes you laugh out loud with joy.

Sunday we were treated to Luna Rumba, playing at the festival for the first time. I can't imagine how so many people managed to sit down during this set. Those of us who couldn't, danced: I just can't resist a fiddle.

This is a band I'll go see wherever they are. The photo below is from their Facebook page as I sort of forgot to take pictures once the music actually started. Thanks to whoever took it.

The music festival blowout weekend was a great release for a whole bunch of people who have been working daily in preparation for this coming weekend, which is the entreamigos big fundraising bash. Spanning three days this year (the first evening being a reception for all the contributing artists, adult and child), this will be a gorgeous event.

Gracias a la Vida opens to the public Friday evening with an open house and silent auction followed by a children's parade down main street. Galleries in town will be open for an Art Walk featuring some of the pieces to be auctioned Saturday at the gala. Artists all over the region have been working on decorative objects for the home: tables, chairs, mirrors and wall decor, high chairs, lamps...and a collection of wooden boxes, each unique. 

I told you a bit about it in my post Thoughts While Spattered with Paint. I will have photos and more next week, including photos of the four pieces I contributed with the help of my little partners. (Can't let you see them yet--preview night is Friday!) Just let me say that the kids and I had a ball creating them, as did the other artists and children in town, judging from the beauty and exuberance of the work I've seen so far.

I took my pieces into entreamigos this morning in two trips. Afterward, I took myself out to eat eggs Benedict at La Taza de Café. Then I took a nap.

It's been a busy few weeks with more to come, and that siesta felt real good. Hope you'll join me here next week to see it all come together. Saludos!

San Pancho Music Festival Website

entreamigos Gala Benefit Info 

Thoughts While Spattered with Paint

San Pancho is all a-bustle preparing for the upcoming 5th annual fundraiser for entreamigos, our thriving community center which is the heart of the pueblo. 

I spent yesterday afternoon working in my studio with 7-year-old Angy, who gleefully painted hearts and suns and the ocean and a moonlit sky on one of the pieces we will submit for the auction. She and I share a certain exuberance, emerging from the studio smiling and paint-spattered. "Art is my life," she says solemnly. Yeah, I get it, chica, I reply as we climb the stairs to meet her mama. 

This morning, I was joined in the studio by 10-year-old Antu, a miracle of a child with eyes and sensitivities as deep as the sea. We collaborated on another piece, a little desk built by Jack and Rick, two American friends and residents who volunteer their skills at entreamigos.

Other volunteers are working daily at the giant conglomeration of activity that is entreamigos: doing art with the children, building sets and displays, creating the stuff and infrastructure of the fundraiser. There has been much conversation this past few weeks about the organization--its present and future, its potential, its capacity for involvement.

One of the phrases that keeps popping up in these dialogues is "personal relevance". Here, where a vital portion of the community is comprised of retired and semi-retired ex-pats, we discuss in tender moments the meaning of life in our "third age", as this time of life is called in Mexico. We're finished, or nearly so, with the jobs that defined us for forty years. Now, with children grown, our second-age jobs accomplished, what's next? 

How do we re-define ourselves in our sixties and beyond?

Here's my confession: after forty years of involvement in general political and social issues, I've had it. I've lost my belief that work on the grand scale makes any real difference at all in the long run. I've come to believe that, rather than trying to change the world on a macrocosmic level, the best use of our energies and talents and skills is by finding our own microcosms.

Yesterday afternoon and this morning, I worked inside my chosen microcosm, a world in which I can exercise my own personal passions, a place of giving what I can and receiving so much in return. Watching the creative energy and talent of these children, playing with them with our paints and colors, is one joy. Another is witnessing their burgeoning self-esteem as they think for themselves and complete a piece they can be proud of. A third will be delivering these pieces to help raise funds for a place in which I believe.

Each person who volunteers for entreamigos creates his own microcosm. Each person takes on what he or she finds the most compelling.

The opportunity exists to use one's hard-learned skills, to share one's innate talents...or to set afire a long-smouldering passion.

For some, it is construction. For others, computer work. Or organizing the library. Or tutoring the local school children in a particular subject. Teaching an English class, taking a Spanish class. Or sitting on the floor helping with a jigsaw puzzle. It doesn't matter what one chooses as a focus or how much time one has to give: each contribution, large or small, contributes to the whole.

The founder and director of entreamigos, Nicole Swedlow, has a microcosm larger than most. Anyone privileged to watch her administer the countless offerings of the expansive vision she has brought to life is boggled by the size of the job she has taken on. Yet it is the job she has chosen.

In my vision, all these microcosms, small, medium, and large, mesh together. In cellular fashion, change happens. The world becomes a better place. And we, as individuals, discover a path to true relevance.

I've learned in the past few weeks that there may be other small missions to add to my microcosm. Perhaps it will expand a bit, as, at times during my life in San Pancho, it has by necessity contracted for a while. I guess these microcosms breathe like cells, too.

And as they breathe, so do we. Here--surrounded by friends of many ages from several countries, working and playing side-by-side, inspiring and being inspired--we can breathe the breath of a life daily redefined and treasured. Wherever you are, I trust you are discovering a way to do the same.

It can't be a coincidence that the theme of this year's entreamigos benefit event is Gracias a la Vida. Take a look: entreamigos 

And if you're nearby, or plan to be, I hope you'll stop in for a visit. Who knows where the path into the lively collaboration that is entreamigos will lead you?