notes and reflections

For those of us without washing machines the neighborhood "Lavandaria" or laundry is an essential part of weekly life. Interestingly enough, it is also somewhat of a crapshoot in that the stuff you take to the laundry is not always exactly what you get back.  So far, on the negative side of the  ledger, I have lost a pillow case and several socks.  On the positive side I have received, but not kept, a very nice hotel  beach towel and a pair of jeans. This morning I took my bundle of soiled garments in for another experiment.  It will be interesting to see what I get back.

Today, the 2nd of November, is traditionally the day when many families visit cemeteries, taking flowers, favorite foods and other things to the graves of departed loved ones.  This, to me, seems a wonderful tradition and reveals the emotional depth of the Mexican people. Morelia today is very quiet.  Streets normally crowded with parked cars and bustling traffic are virtually empty.  Many stores and businesses are closed to allow employees to observe the day. In the narrow, romantic alley across from my apartment, the already picturesque fountain is festooned with orange carnations, the official flower of the rememberance.  Just down from the Tarascan fountain, the stone benches lining the length of the walking street that leads to the Morelos Plaza, La Calzada de Guadalupe, are covered with thousands of white paper sacks containing candles that, last night lit the entire avenue. It is a day to remember, much like the American Memorial Day, yet more carefully observed and much more profound.