Sep. 15, 16, 17 - Independencia y el Puente

So September 15 was the 200th anniversary of the Mexico's independence from Spain. Just like in the United States, the years are counted not from the end of the war, or the establishment of a permanent domestic government, but from a call to action. Father Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla (for whom Avenue Hidalgo in Ciudad de Oaxaca is named, and about whom a major motion picture is scheduled for release) had planned an insurrection with a Spanish army captain named Ignacio Allende, but the authorities were tipped off and Hidalgo had to rally the people ahead of schedule. Accordingly, he issued his now-famous Grito de Dolores, inspiring his parishioners and others to rise up against the Spanish forces. The initial uprising reached the outskirts of Mexico City, but no further, and Father Hidalgo and Allende quarreled, separated and were eventually both captured and executed.

Nevertheless, their actions precipitated the struggle that would lead to the ejectment of Spain from Mexico and a fully independent Mexican state. In honor of this, the Grito de Dolores is reenacted - at least, in some capacity, as the exact words of the cry are uncertain - in city

centers throughout Mexico on September 15. This includes Oaxaca, where in addition to the Grito, fireworks, music and food, there were ceremonial (well, kind of) fights with cans of pressurized foam. We had intended to stay on the sidelines of these, but after I took an entirely unprovoked dousing, Jorge and Omar rushed to our defense with many, many cans. The results speak for themselves, and everyone seemed to have a really good time.

Thursday, everything seemed to be closed down, as the celebration continued at a more relaxed pace. Of course, this meant that our attempted trip to several museums fell short, but there's plenty of time to make good. And Friday? Friday is el Puente - the bridge from the holiday to the weekend, when you're supposed to take the day off, even though there isn't an official reason to. Of course, Erica, being a dedicated volunteer, went in for an extra long day, complete with her first P.E. class and her first staff meeting.

I took the morning to go back to Abastos, which is far less insane, apparently, when it isn't Saturday. I wandered a bit, and found live hens, roosters and turkeys for sale - all quite docile, actually, as they resignedly awaited their fate - as well as some apparently quite fresh fish. I was feeling good about all I bought and about finding my way with ease, until I came out a totally unexpected exit and had to wander for 5 or 10 minutes before I finally figured out my bearings. That it was cloudy and that Abastos is tucked among quite a few different hills didn't help much (normally, finding North is as easy as finding the biggest mountains). But, never fear, I made it back home in time to make sure the beans didn't overcook and to prepare a copious batch of granola. By the way, raisins are know as pasas. For some reason, uvas secas (dry grapes) didn't get me very far without some additional explanation/inquiry.

After that, a leisurely afternoon, then a really excellent concert by two young classical guitarists at the Casa de la Cultura Oaxaquena (where I'll also get to practice piano). The music was beautiful and the speed they could move their fingers was amazing. Some pieces, it honestly looked like their hands were somehow liquid. All the songs were good, but we particularly liked Milonga, by Jorge Cardozo, Snowflight, by Andrew York, and Koyunbaba, by Carlo Domeniconi.

There's a stage up in the Zocalo with music and dancing, so we're headed out that way. Happy weekend!