Yesterday was Dia de las Flores, Day of the Flowers, here in Guanajuato. I’ve probably written about it here before. This is what I had to say about it in The Stuff of a Life:
It’s Dia de las Flores—a pre-Easter celebration specific to Guanajuato. The streets are filled with couples who have been up all night dancing. They carry armloads of flowers amid the vendors that fill the narrow downtown plaza. The usually serene spot has been transformed into a warren of stalls and tables selling toys, hats, dolls, and plastic flowers of all shapes, colours, and sizes. As is always the case, the duplication of goods makes me wonder how anyone ever sells anything.
But what most impresses me today is the density of people and the toe-stubbing pace of movement through the plaza. My shoulders twitch from my inability to achieve even a modicum of personal space. Someone’s recently purchased puppet stabs me in the left breast as I veer away from the mother with child in tow passing me on the right. There is no escaping the crush of bodies, and yet I must. I signal to Jack “I’m outta here” and wriggle rudely through the crowd until I reach the steps of the basilica, where there are actually a few open spots. I catch my breath and sit. I am almost trembling with relief. Jack waves from the swarm of bodies below, and I understand that he will remain in the crowd, which he finds stimulating. Later, we will walk home together and agree to disagree about the event. I will never again attend. He will go annually from now on and return with colourful photos that say “Mexico” to him.
That was several years ago. Yesterday I had to go the bank. (This is the last time I will mention the bank here. The problems have been resolved and I am on a first-name basis with the bankers!) That meant navigating the crowds in the centre of the city. I thought “It can’t be as bad as I remember it.” It was worse.
This photo—which is of a street not central to the action—doesn’t even begin to show the press of humanity that clogged the main downtown area. I was caught in that crowd briefly, unable to cross the solid mass of people all walking in the same direction. I can only describe my response as panic—much as I described it a few years ago. I wish I’d taken a picture, but the only thing on my mind was escape! When I finally did, I stumbled onto some plastic eggs for sale along the side of the street. When I collected myself and offered to pay, the vendor kindly pointed out that no damage was done, and offered me water.
That said, it is a festival that many people (obviously) flock to and enjoy. I don’t pretend to understand its significance in the calendar of special days leading up to Easter, but this Guanajuato tradition coincides with Viernes de Delores (Friday of Sorrows), the Friday before Palm Sunday. All day, throughout the city, organizations and individuals offer free food, especially ice cream, to passers-by. I knew about the ice cream, but I just learned that it symbolizes the tears of the Virgin–which is why it’s more often sherbet than actual ice cream, according to my source.
My Mexican family converted their evening taco stand into an afternoon ice cream dispensary.
And just a few steps below my apartment, on the narrow walkway that alternates stairs with a sharp incline, I was offered a little cup of pineapple sherbet and a cookie. A welcome respite on a hot day. (The climb from the centre involves 200 stair-steps, and what’s not stair-steps is uphill walking.)
My month here is winding down. I’ll be back in southern Ontario in a week, and back at home just after Easter. I was afraid of missing Spring, but I see that it’s snowing at home today.
I love the phrase, “toe stubbing crowd.” That nails it. Glad you got the banking issue resolved, as well.