The Vicarious Gazzette

The Vicarious Gazette

Second Edition - By Mary and Steve Frank

Well, we have reached the end of our second week here in San Miguel. We can now understand about 50% of what folks say to us in Spanish but we still have a long way to go before being able to form whole and correct sentences!

We hosted a cooking class at our casa on Thursday night, which was a lot of fun. One of our afternoon teachers offered to teach us how to make Pozole which is a soup made with hominy, pork, and spices. We ended up doing most of the prep work ourselves, and feel confident that we can recreate this dish in the future. The soup is served with a variety of optional toppings and the beverage was agua de limon (a kind of Mexican lemonade). There was a minor interpretation disaster (you mean you wanted us to SIMMER not SOAK the ingrediants for 2 hours?) and dinner was served later than originally planned, but by then folks had consumed enough chips, salsa, and cervesa that no one seemed to mind.

As promised, I have dug up some historical information on San Miguel de Allende: The town celebrated its 450th birthday in 1992 and was originally named for the patron saint of the Franciscan missionary who built an Indian mission here. De Allende was later added in memory Ignacio de Allende a famous local revolutionary who fought for independence in 1826. The town was declared a National monument in 1926 there by preserving its historical nature, and the reason it has been kept free of traffic lights, neon signs, fire hydrants and fast food restaurants. Thank heavens for small favors. I am regularly dismayed that America’s contribution to the world economy is a KFC, Pizza Hut, and McDonalds in every town. The elevation here is 6,400 feet and the current population is 70,000 although I sure don’t know were they all are. We walk everywhere we need to go, and it is never crowded.

We planned a trip to the nearby city of Queretero this weekend with several of our classmates, but it turned out that just three of us made the journey via Autobus. We were joined by our classmate and neighbor Sheila, who is a 4th level Spanish student, and can actually form complete sentences ( a real bonus when you need to communicate anything more than where is the bathroom) The Autobus we took is the less expensive second class bus, which is very modern, clean, comfortable, and takes about an hours travel time with only a few stops along the way, during which we skimmed through the Lonely Planet travel guide to map out our itinerary.

From the bus station it is a short taxi ride to the plaza de principal (main plaza) which we chose as our central landmark. Queretero is a city of seven plazas; each different and unique. We were dropped off beside the plaza and in front of the Regional Museum so we popped in, checked our backpacks, and began the self-guided tour through the exhibits. Marcy and I were pleasantly surprised to find that we could read and comprehend most of the information on the placards describing the exhibits! This ranged from samplings of various archeological digs, examples of religious shrines, and ending with portraits and memorabilia of key historical figures. The museum itself is a former hacienda, having been a private home, then later a monastery until it was turned into a museum. It is worth the trip just to view the building which is full of beautiful arched walkways, courtyards, and fountains.

After an hour and a half of history we were ready for lunch (don’t museums always make you hungry?). After having perused the menus of several nearby establishments we chose Las Miguelitas which we entered through a long hallway opening into a grand open air courtyard. Sheila introduced us to one of her favorite Mexican dishes, queso fundito, consisting of three melted cheeses served with tortllias that she generously shared with us; it is now one of our new favorite menu items. (melted cheese and bread? What’s not to like?)The ambiance in this restaurant was fabulous: lots of plants hanging from the balconies, good background music and impeccable service. A real treat!

Now fortified from our delightful meal we wondered the streets of Queretero exploring churches, shops and street venders. We saw four or five churches, each unique and all adorned in the baroque style and in the process managed to crash 2 weddings and what Steve insists was a funeral! We discovered a street market with hundreds of little stalls both indoors and out selling everything from fruit and vegetables to pirated cds. Steve had been casting his eye about for a sombrero to add to his hat collection, so we wandered into a hat shop. Sadly there were no sombreros to be had, but he did buy a very nice Tom Mix style straw cowboy hat, that Marcy and Sheila insisted he had to have, and he hasn’t stopped wearing it since. In fact, when we went to the local Tuesday market in San Miguel this week, all the vendors were asking where he got that great hat! We were obviously very flattered to get such compliments from the home crowd.

From the market we returned to the Plaza, and Sheila decided it was time to head back to San Miguel, while we decided to stay and see if the city was as beautiful at night as we had read. A few moments after Sheila hopped into a cab, the skies opened up with a torrential down pour! We quickly took shelter in the bandstand in the middle of the plaza along with 30 or so other folks hoping to stay dry. As the down pour continued we also got a little hail, much to the delight of the children who ran about trying to pick it up. There was no language necessary when the roof began to leak and we all jostled to make room, as everyone attempted to stay dry (a very nice moment of international camaraderie). The storm passed after about ten minutes. Somewhat damper, we headed off to the find the hotel we chose from our guide book.

After a brief siesta we headed out in search of the grand victorian theatre. After several missed turns, we found it and poked our heads in to find an awards ceremony in progress (our 4th event crash of the day). With a quick look around we decided that the guide book had been somewhat generous with its description, and we headed back towards the park were earlier they had been setting up for a concert. We watched the mariachi band for a bit in hopes of gaining a seat, but alas there was quite a crowd and we eventually settled on trying to find a café which served tea and the famous Mexican treat: tres leche cake (cake with three milks) that we had heard much about. We did find tea and something passing for cheese cake but the tres leche cake still eludes us.

It was getting dark by the time we finished, so we headed back towards the stage and eventually found a nice park bench where we sat for a spell enjoying the music and watching couples, families and children play in the park. We were eventually ready for a cocktail (yes, I know you are all surprised) and surveyed the cafes that encircled the park so we could still hear the concert. We could not have asked for a better night: light breezes, music, fondue, and superb people-watching. It was just as pretty as we had hoped, and we were glad we made the decision to stay. The winningest toy of the evening was a super ball with colored foil streamers attached that was sold around the plaza and kept the children (as well as ourselves) amused for hours. We held out till 10:30 in hopes of seeing fireworks, but eventually gave up and headed to our room. We hadn’t been in bed more than 15 minutes before we heard them explode in the night. Oh well! The next day we had a nice breakfast, and did a little more window shopping before catching the bus back to San Miguel.

As we mentioned in our previous issue, we attend classes from 9-1, then we break for siesta and reconvene at 4 and have a vocabulary workshop until 6. While we adore our morning maestras (teachers), we have all noticed a decided lack of interest from our afternoon teachers. We are not sure whether it is the revolutionary history of San Miguel or the adventurous spirit of our classmates, but we staged a small rebellion of our own last week. It started with another in a series of silly assignments: our essay was to create a machine, build it, staff it, supply it, market it and provide operation cost estimates. Now, not many people like writing essays, let alone writing one in another language, especially when you only have about 45 words in your vocabulary to work with. After giving us our assignment, the teachers wondered off to get a drink and chat amongst themselves. This was a fatal mistake in that it allowed the rebels to talk amongst themselves (yes, we cheated and spoke English) to form a plan of attack. We were fed up with word games and essays, and we felt there was more to learn from field trips (of course conducted in Espanol). When the teachers reappeared we asked them to instead accompany us to the church of San Miguel which is the town’s namesake. Alas, too much time had passed writing and plotting and we could not reach our destination in the allotted time, so we did the next best thing, which was to retreat to one of our favorite bars to plan the rest of our coup ( I mean, the remainder of our afternoon classes). The rest of our classes have included a trip to the botanical garden, a trip to the local hot springs, and a tour of the local glass factory. Vive la revolucion!

Our teacher did accompany us on our first field trip to La Gruta with her five year old son (I would tell you his name, but I don’t remember all fourteen of them). For the purposes of our tale, we will refer to him as Louis. The bus we took from San Miguel dropped us at the side of the road, and I would call it the middle of nowhere if it were not for the large sign which says "La Gruta", the name of these very old mineral baths. We took the dirt road beside the sign to a small steep path between two trees and followed the teacher down some steps. While the ladies in the group all headed for the women’s changing area I was directed (by our teacher) to another room. I put down my bag and changed into my trunks and was about to return to the lockers to secure our things just as a group of men and women marched right through and down some steps I had not noticed earlier. It seems I was directed to the common room leading to the main pool! Oh well, at least embarrassment of my fellow humans was averted this time!

The first pool was bathtub warm and about the size of a standard city pool. We looked around for our classmates who had entered the pool before us and while they were nowhere to be seen, there were sounds coming from a small arched opening in one of the walls that led to a narrow tunnel about 200’ long that in turn opened into a domed room about 40’ across and 20’ high. The water was considerably warmer in this room, and the waterfall had just come on moments before we arrived and a line was already forming. The waterfall consists of an opening about seven feet off the pool bottom from which the famous healing mineral waters pour forth once every hour and a half. To stand under the falls is to receive an amazing aquatic massage that is very intense, but fair warning to the ladies: keep a firm hold on that top or you will be giving a free show!

The water temperature in this inner room is 100 degrees fahrenheit, (Steve took a reading with his dive watch) and it was quite relaxing to soak there for a while. We each took two turns under the falls, then it was time to head out to the cooler pool, and walk up to the restaurant for lunch. If any of you spent part of your summer at the pool as a kid, this experience evoked similar memories of carefree days. We lounged around, eating some of the best pool food I have had anywhere, took another dip under the waterfall, splashed around with Luis, and headed home happy, relaxed, and ready for our next adventure.

The next day Marcy and I headed for the nearby town of Guanajuato. This small university town has been named a world heritage site and is built along the steep sides of three converging ravines. Originally, they built alongside, then over the rivers resulting in a series of tunnels that run under the town and have now been converted into roadways. It is a very dramatic way to enter the town, and the taxi from the bus station took us through several of these tunnels before popping above ground and dropping us at the central market. We stopped in the market because the bottomless pit (aka Marcy) was hungry again! She bravely ordered up huevos rancheros from one of the market stalls (not knowing exactly what she would get) and was pleasantly surprised. She happily ate while we absorbed the ambiance and aroma of the market and fended off mariachis and small children asking for money.

We consulted our map and wondered off in the general direction of the Diego Rivera Museum which we quite nearly missed. Definitely worth the visit, this is the home he grew up in and later used as a studio. The exhibit of his works really allows you to see the growth and range of the artist. From there we wound our way down through charming narrow-streets, past churches and homes till we found the Teatro Juarez, a very impressive building. Alas, we could not enter as there was a performance in progress. Sheila had told us to look for a restaurant with “truck” in the name. With a little creative license we deciphered this as "La Truca" restaurant, and we had a lovely lunch. Afterwards, we found the Museo Iconografico which is completely devoted to depictions of Don Quijote, with works of art in every medium imaginable depicting this fictional character and his dutiful side kick Sancho Panza. If you know the story of the Man of La Mancha, the exhibits are even more fun!

Our day was waning and it was time to look for accommodations. We examined several places before deciding on a little family-run place one block from the main plaza called the Casa Kloster. As we prepared to go out for the evening after a brief siesta (yes they are habit forming) a gal in the lobby spotted my SFPD tank top. "Oh are you from California?"; "Yes but we live in Oakland"; "Really! Me too", bla bla bla. Turns out we live four blocks from each other. How far must we travel to be rid of these pesky neighbors? We politely excused ourselves and headed towards the funicular which takes you up to the top of the hill for panoramic views to catch the sunset. Things were rather windy up top so we did not linger and besides, it was margarita time by my clock. We found what looked like a nice second story bar with a view of the jardin (park) and almost enjoyed our sour and overpriced beverages. We meandered a bit till we happened upon a romantically lit plaza with a fountain and a charming café with a classical guitarist playing. Well of course we had to stop for dinner and, oh I suppose, another cocktail!

We had a lovely dinner and chat then strolled back to our room. Luck was with us as we ran across the famous singing students of Guanajuato. Each evening they dress up in period costume, take instruments in hand and stroll the town singing. As the tradition goes, tourists and townspeople alike follow them till they become their own parade. The next morning we looked around a bit more, which was when we discovered that Marcy had mislaid her favorite sombrero somewhere the day before! We retraced our steps for a bit then gave up and came home. I guess it’s time to go hat shopping again…….

Until next time,

Marcy And Steve Frank

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