Michoacan

Día de los Muertos in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán

October 12, 2009 by Lesley Tellez

Remember my trip to Patzcuaro? It was a research for an article on Día de Los Muertos there. The article was just published American Way magazine, American Airlines’ in-flight publication.

Check it out here.

And now, since I’m currently sick, I’m going to go back to sipping manzanilla and ordering groceries online from Superama. But I can’t pick anything too crazy, because then they might not have it, even though it appears right there on the screen. (They let you order it, and then they call and say, “Señora Lesley? No tenemos espinacas. Lechuga romana está bien?”)

If you know of any homeopathic ways to relieve sinus pressure, I’m all ears.

Moody, magical Patzcuaro Michoacan

June 29, 2009 by Lesley Tellez

This sounds kinda dorky, but one of my secret pleasures in life is contemplating the clouds. (I’m actually a wee bit of a closet hippie.) When I lived in Boston, I couldn’t get over how fast the clouds moved. They were like trains, pushed this way and that by the wind.

In Patzcuaro during the rainy season — which is now — the clouds are so amazingly beautiful, they’re like people, almost. They’re grayish and menacing, and they hover over the mountains as if to say, “We all know who’s really in charge here.”

In my hierarchy of Patzcuaro beauty, the clouds come first; then the mountains, then the lakes, and then maybe the cornstalks that grow all over the side of the road. And then maybe the amazing loaves of crusty, caramel-brown bread that sit in the bakeries.

(Can you tell she’s in love?)

We jetted off to Patzcuaro just for a night this weekend. It was my second visit there, and thankfully I didn’t have a stomach bacteria this time. Joy and her husband invited us — they’d visited Patzcuaro a few weeks ago, and were going back to buy a copper vase they’d seen in Santa Clara del Cobre, which sells all sorts of great copper handicrafts.

In Patzcuaro, we stayed at the Hotel Ixhi, which was nice even if the staff was a little disorganized. The views there couldn’t be beat:

We wandered around Patzcuaro’s historic Centro for a few hours, and had wine on Ixhi’s porch as the sun went down. On Sunday morning we drove to Santa Clara del Cobre, and I fought the urge to buy a copper sink. Although I really really want one in my house someday.

Sweetbread for sale in Patzcuaro's Plaza Grande

A street in Santa Clara del Cobre

A stall from Patzcuaro's Sunday market

Crayton and I also bought a piece of art from La Mano Grafica, a cool gallery next to the Basilica. It’s a print from Artemio Rodriguez, a Michoacan native who spent some time in L.A. (His exhibition space is in Patzcuaro.) Didn’t realize this until I got home, but he’s the same artist who did the woodcuts for Dagoberto Gilb’s book Woodcuts of Women, which is one of my favorite books ever.

We drove through a horrible rainstorm on the way back, but overall, it was a perfect weekend trip.

Still thinking about those clouds…

To buenos días, or not to buenos días

May 26, 2009 by Lesley Tellez

It’s customary here to say “buenos días” or “buenas tardes” upon entering a place of business. Most people, I’ve noticed, don’t even pair it with an “hola.” Just buenas tardes or whatever and then on to their request. (I.e., two for dinner, can you dry clean these pants, etc.)

What I can’t figure out is whether it’s customary to greet strangers on the street. I’ve seen some people do it and some people not. So now, whenever I pass people walking by themselves, I find myself feeling kind of anxious. What if they look my way? Should I say it? Should I not say it? (My ansiedad could also stem from the fact that in Dallas, where I lived for seven years, it was considered rude not to smile and say hi to passersby.)

Once, I said it to a middle-aged woman who was standing alone on the sidewalk, staring off into space. She broke into a huge grin. “Buenos días,” she returned. The same thing happened in my neighborhood one other time, when I said it to a lady walking her dog.

In Patzcuaro, greeting strangers seemed much more common. People said buenos días when they got on the bus, and all the other passengers said it back. When I was hiking up to El Estribo, the town’s lookout point with a pretty view of the lake, I said buenos días to everyone, albeit half out of breath. (I was hiking uphill for more than an HOUR.) The persons receiving the greeting always smiled and said it back. Two teenage girls said it in unison, sing-songy, like they’d been doing this all their life.

The point is: I have no idea why I’m so obsessed with this, but I’d like to make sure I’m following the custom correctly.

If you live here, do you greet other people on the street? My rule so far has been that if someone makes eye contact, and we’re the only two people on the sidewalk, I’ll say it. But maybe that’s weird and wrong and I should just shut up because we live in a big city, and it’d be like saying hi to someone in New York City, which identifies you as a crazy person.

Back from Patzcuaro… and I’m sick

May 25, 2009 by Lesley Tellez

I got home yesterday with a 99.8-degree fever.

This was probably a result of drinking only a few sips of water per day, walking for several hours — including nearly two hours up the side of a mountain; eating too much crap, and not sleeping nearly enough. (Stupid fireworks woke me up at 6:30 a.m. on Sunday. Who is having a party at 6:30 a.m. on Sunday? Do Patzcuarians really party that hard?)

Briefly thought about swine flu — though everybody I talked to in Patzcuaro swore, “There was not one documented case here!” –but my mom, a nurse, said that since I didn’t have any respiratory symptoms I was probably fine.

Thought I’d share some more Patz pictures. The one above was taken with my iPhone on Saturday night around 9 p.m.

I’m not doing anything else today. Going to sit under my pink blanket, watch Adam’s Rib and Spiderman 3, and eat the cherry Jello that my husband lovingly prepared last night, while I was a zombie.

Click below to see the pics.
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Charming, rustic Patzcuaro

May 21, 2009 by Lesley Tellez

I didn’t know much about Patzcuaro, Michoacán until a few months ago, when I decided to pitch a story based here. So here I am this weekend, working on said story. Arrived at noon today and I’m already in love with this town.

It’s hilly, and walkable, and all the buildings are rustic and topped with red-tiled roofs. Cars bump along on cobblestone streets. Just a few minutes ago, I saw a group of girls, probably 10 years old, walking down the street clutching colorful poofs of foklorico dresses. They were gabbing and all of them wore lipstick and eyeshadow.

I’m staying at a rustic, quiet inn. All the rooms face this courtyard.

For lunch, I ate my weight in mercado food, including a 15-peso cocktel de pulpo and camarón, sprinkled with diced habanero. (And a tostada. And a corunda. And a corn-on-the-cob with lime and chile. And queso ice cream streaked with boysenberry marmelade.)

Stopped by the basilica, and saw this chapel….

I forgot how blue the sky could be. Which is kind of sad. Just went through my pictures and almost all of my pictures them are of plants, or the sky.

Exhausted from waking up at 5:45 this morning. Gonna have a glass of wine and go to bed. Tomorrow I’m off to a yoga class… in my pajama pants, since I didn’t bring any yoga clothes. Who knew they had yoga in Patzcuaro?