poodles and parades

The week of Semana Santa (holy week leading up to Easter) has finally come to an end. I can't say I'm sorry about that. The city was FLOODED with visitors from all over. The zocalo was full of warring mariachi bands, dance performances, kids playing with long rod-shaped balloons (very phallic. I'll provide photos later.), artisans, giant puppets, parades, and, of course, poodles.

The poodle appears to be the dog of choice in Oaxaca. These are small (from miniature up to mid-size) yappy dogs with, as you know, curly white (or off-white, if they're dirty) fur. I'm not really enamored of these mascotas (pets). Between poodle pooch (I don't even know her name) and Benito (pictured above) - the resident canines of our compound - I definitely play favorites with Benito. However, the local fascination with poodles intrigues me, and so I decided at least to discover how to name these dogs in Spanish. The reply? "French poopies." Yes, it was definitely worth the trouble of asking.

It would be much more funny if all the poodles of Oaxaca could converge and hold a parade of their own to welcome in springtime, but as it was, one of the main highlights of holy week was a silent candlelight procession with people in KKK-style hoods walking through the streets carrying floats depicting various stages of the cross, or people in tunics dragging real crosses, or people in regular shirts and and pants hefting large banners on poles that...you guessed it...were also lashed together in the shape of crosses. The procession was beautiful for its silence and candles and flowers, and for all the people gathered to watch it. But it was disturbing and solemn as well. As I guess it was supposed to be.

After waiting for the procession for over an hour and finally watching it go by, I was ready for a drink and some salsa dancing. So I went to meet up with a friend at Candela, a local club with a live band. My favorite partner was a rotund middle-aged man who could lead the merengue like he had been born doing it. The sax player was less impressive as a dance partner, but I think maybe I intimidated him when I stood up and he realized I was pretty much the tallest person in the room. Ah, well. Back to your bandstand, senor. Hasta luego.