Vendors in my Life

I guess I better clear things up.  I´m speaking of the taco ladies.  The Hands of Steel lady flips tortillas and gorditas with her bare hands.  She uses cheap stainless steel spoons to serve the guisados (fillings like shredded chicken, mushrooms in cream, chicharón and nopales) into the tortillas to make tacos. Me...I´d be burning my fingers and yelling, Ouch!  Not this lady though.  Her outdoor stand is on Calle Nueva.  She has a nice smile accentuated by some tall white teeth that probably cost her some.

The Gates of Hell taco lady has a little fonda (traditional Mexican food sold out of a small kitchen or stand) at the back of a corner store jam-packed with every snack beverage ever invented by Coke, Pepsi or Lipton.  It´s hard to tell how she cooks because her back is to you when she is at the stove and, like the name implies, she cooks in the dark, as the lights went off in the back of the store about two months ago and have not been repaired.  This gal is probably not even 30.  She rarely smiles.  She does, however, serve her tacos with lovely, crinkled slightly blackened grilled and salted jalapeños.  In both places, you can get a fill-you-up plate of tacos for about one dollar.

Josefina is the owner of La Ventana, where I get my yummy organic Chiapas coffee.  Being in the coffee business, a cold day makes her do a happy dance.  She and I trade service for product.  The other day her two daughters, who've been in school with my girls, came in to my business, Jasmine Spa with a friend for massages and facials.  All on credit.  This means I can think, a latte would be great right now, or Frappucino! and just cruise on over and pick one up.  Sometimes when I don´t have small change the Hands of Steel taco lady will tell me to pay tomorrow.  It´s one of the nice things about living in San Miguel de Allende, which even though it´s a World Heritage Site, is still a small town.

Gates of Hell Tacos

My theory for living in Mexico is: Suspend Logic. 
For instance, the corner store on Sollano where we buy tacos in the morning for 12 pesos.  These days, that´s less than a dollar for 4 tacos (a taco, by the way, in Mexico, is ANYTHING stuffed into a warmed-up, folded-over tortilla). The tacos come with shredded lettuce, tomato and salsa.  Quite the bargain.  Quite a convenient little stop for the thrifty. 
The gal who runs the little kitchen even put in a couple of tables.  On any morning, you´d find cops with their walkie-talkies occassionally crackling, moms who´ve just dropped kids off at school, area workers, delivery guys who stop for a bite before resuming their routes.  And THEN, about 3 weeks ago, the lights went out. 
The taco gal now cooks to the light of the flame on her gas stove.  The tables sit in darkness. 
The store in the front still sells bread, milk and Cokes under fluorescent
lighting, so you can easily make selections and pay for your tacos in the front of the store.  But step carefully once you show up at the kitchen window and be prepared to pick up your meal in the black.
The Taco Gal can´t change a light bulb?
She lost the number for the electrician?
She meditates while making tacos and prefers the dark?
It all doesn´t matter, because business has not slowed at the Gates of Hell Taco Window.  The taco gal is busy as ever.  People even sit at the tables, hunched closer to their plates to see where their taco is. 
Not me, though.  I like seeing what I eat.  That´s not to say I´ve found another breakfast nook.  A twelve peso plate of tacos de pollo o frijoles can´t be beat. 
I take mine wrapped in tin foil, however, to go. 

Never a Normal Day in San Miguel

First, a couple of days ago, I asked for the usual - two egg and frijol quesadillas (with salsa, got all the food groups covered) from the friendly lady with hands of iron - she turns tortillas, lifts metal spoons from bubbling pots of guisados, shuffles gorditas with her bare, unblistered hands - on Calle Nueva.  On my side of the food cart, I spooned on salsa.  I oversalted (in Mexico nobody glares at you if you do.)  I bit my torta staring at the taco stuffings I could have ordered...liver, chicken in tomato, papas in chile pasilla, mushrooms in cream, when a paper was thrust in front of my face.

"Dibujo del dragon," offered a man who looked like he hadn´t slept much in past hours.  He wore a shirt over a shirt, warmup pants over jeans, had a rather trim moustache.  The drawing was done in black and purple crayon. "Me lo compras?"

"No, gracias."  I didn´t want to buy a dragon drawing.  The man moved on to the next taco stand, and then the next offering his drawing to those breakfasting on tacos.  At the final stand, the guy gave him a taco de cabeza.  The artist tucked his drawing under his arm, and ate.

Then, yesterday, I finished my Mega shopping, and found, when I tried to pull out, the parking lot exit blocked by thousands of frenzied teens.  A huge line of them walking toward the center of town.  First came the green team.  Green t-shirts, sweatshirts and shoelaces, chanting something.  Fist pumping.  What could have them so stirred?  Then came a white-faced clown, riling them up even further.  By now, the blue group was passing.  Then purple, then yellow.  Thousands of teens, hollering and cheering.  There was a banner.  A God banner!  Along came some kids with the head of Jesus on their bags.  Someone yelled something.  The crowd answered, "Si, Cristo vive!"  They were deliriously happy about it.  I thought of those Baptists who sing and whoop and swoon.  I've never seen Catholicism expressed in such a whoop-de-do way before.
Today, officials say the teens numbered 7,000 and came from towns outside San Miguel.  I´m still trying to figure out what their final destination was.
I got out of the Mega parking lot after 25 minutes.