December 12 is el Dia de la Virgen, however the celebrations begin the evening of Dec. 11 at sundown and last through the night, until dawn. We were invited to follow our host's pick-up through the jungle, into the mountains to the 'rancho' (small mountain town) to join the all night festivities with the family of our goddaughter's mother. It turns out this family comprises at least 80% of the town, with parents, grandparents, children, cousins, nieces, nephews, aunts and uncles all there. Everyone seemed related to someone else.
The town boasted a new and sparkling clean main plaza nestled between the town's two streets, with the also clean and new church across from it. Some of the townspeople were finishing up the last of a coat of paint on the plaza's (dry) fountain as we arrived. A shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe was set up in the plaza, adorned with balloons, flowers, candles, palm fronds. The church was also festooned with flowers, and flashing Christmas lights of all colors surrounded the Virgen on the alter. Some people were in the church attending mass, others just sitting around in the plaza, and we three American women were welcomed by all the town, especially the curious 8 - 10 year old girl cousins, who soon became our fast friends.
After the mass, a procession descended from the hillside, each person holding aloft a candle. Then the musicians arrived with their violins, guitars, and later a bass. The music began, the older women fell into parallel lines facing the shrine in the plaza and their intricate, winding dance began. It would continue all night. The explanation given us is that the Virgen watches over us all day, all night, every day, every night. On this, the eve of her day, the people stay up with her, offering her their music, their dance, their devotion. We sat on the edges of planters watching the dancing, listening to the music, occasionally wandering around, talking to the other women, the girls, watching the small children running about and chasing each other. And the firecrackers!! How the Mexicans love their firecrackers, the louder the better, and what is a holiday here without them?! Every half hour, if not more, they would go soaring into the sky and explode with a thunderous concussion.
At about 8:00 in the evening the food was served - beans, meat in a rich, oily, spicy broth, and a carne asada, which, we were told, had just been slaughtered that morning for the feast, and was grilled on a Weber BBQ. And of course, piles of tortillas. The dancing continued, the lines getting longer as more women, teens, and some of the men joined in. The children became sleepy and lay down on blankets their mothers had brought, on the cement of the plaza, in the open night air. Huge pots of sweet, weak coffee laced with cinnamon were kept warm over a wood fire and a drop of tequila would be added if you wanted. All the women shared in watching over the children - some mothers danced as others nestled their little ones and wrapped them in blankets. A small girl, maybe one year old, dipped her fingers into my plate of beans. I fed her small pieces of tortilla and bits of meat and she then became 'mine' for several hours, finally falling asleep in my arms as I rocked her to the sweet music.
And then the 'toro' appeared. This is a paper mache bull with fireworks attached and is held aloft by one of the men who goes running around the plaza with fireworks spiraling off in every direction, chasing anyone who runs from him, which of course Susan & I did, much to the amusement of our friends.
We had been lead to believe that we would be spending the whole night there, holding vigil, but our family decided to leave at about 10:30 for the hour and a half drive back to La Penita, so we followed them out through the jungle, arriving at the La Penita plaza at midnight, finally falling into bed at about 2:00, to the sound of the fireworks which continued until dawn.
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