A Quick Update

In 2010, we moved back to the small town in Colorado that I never stopped missing while we lived in Mexico. Now I sometimes miss Mexico, but I wouldn't travel as freely as we did when we were there, camping out in remote areas and so forth.

Mexico today is in a period of change, and in many ways it is more dangerous now. That said, I have plenty of American friends who still live there very happily, just taking a few more precautions than they did in the past.

Just to say!

Rosana

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One Sunday recently, we walked down to the local soccer field, paid 5 pesos each (about 50 cents US), and found ourselves in the middle of a lively scene. Our town, San Juan Cosala, was in the playoffs with nearby Ajijic, a town with maybe 4 times the population. We had come hoping to see a friend of ours play, but we found him watching the action from the sidelines. He’s a teenager, where many of the players were in their 20s and 30s. In such an important game, he didn’t get a chance.

soccer

Ni modo, as they say here — no matter. We had come in a little after the game started, and we looked over the scene. Several ancient large trees provided shade, and some of their downed branches were being used as seats. There were some bleachers built into the walls of the field but they were in the glaring sun. Like most people, we stood in the shade. Many had brought their own buckets for seats.

The score was still 0 to 0. Before I had figured out that the striped shirts were our team, a great roar went out. A VERY loud roar! San Juan Cosala had just scored. All around us, there was jollity.

Unfortunately, things didn’t stay like that. The gloom was palpable when Ajijic scored.

soccer1 At half time, the players came off the field and gathered in a circle near us. One guy took off his striped shirt and someone who was going to replace him put it on.

Meanwhile, the mostly male crowd was having more beer, Corona.The guy selling it was periodically walking around and picking up the empties. We encountered a good friend of ours and stood with him as the game resumed. He pointed out his brother to us on the field. I listened with amusement as three men sitting on buckets nearby provided a steady stream of advice to the brother. There was a lot of bad language — one bit of slang that is printable here was burro, and I confirmed with our friend that it is used to mean stupid.

The game ended with Ajijic winning. Despite the gloom this induced, it had been a very Mexican event — jolly and lively all around.

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