The Start Of An Ajijic Day
By Catherine A. MacKenzie
In Ajijic, the Mexican day starts off with a loud bang
Shots of unwelcome firecrackers before the rising sun
Noisy vehicles driving by, metal on metal making a clang
Some eye-opening signs that another new day has begun.
The shining sun beaming through the windows’ glass
Roosters crowing their incessant “cock-a-doodle-dooooo”
Cars blaring foreign music, loud-speakers selling gas
Above it all the omniscient sky, a clear bright blue.
Men on horses, clomping down the street, raising dust
Women out with brooms and water, controlling the dirt
Cleaning their storefronts and homes, an energy so robust
Other women hanging laundry on rooftops, many a shirt.
The bustle of the people, their footsteps on the ground
Seem happy as they go to work or starting their busy day
Easily walking on uneven cobblestones, rough and round
Sharing their merry greetings as they pass on their way.
The many sad dogs, their mournful wails in the night
Now lay docile, sleeping on steps, others roaming wild
Depositing brown droppings, such an unpleasant sight
But though some may be orphans, most are ever so mild.
The children, not a care, walking to classes at school
Dressed alike in uniforms, so neat and tidy and clean
They are happy to go, seem to follow the Golden Rule
Parents raised them well, with manners, even the teen.
The intermittent peelings of the church bells ringing
So pure and loud, inviting, seemingly right on cue
The constant chirping of the many hidden birds singing
Amid loud echoing bangs of more popping rockets, too.
The many varied smells abound in the busy dusty street
Happy Mexicans out cooking in huge vats of dark grease
Don’t know what it is, don’t want to know – some sort of meat?
Only a few peddlers around, selling items piece by piece.
We Gringos prepare for the start of another blessed day
With errands to run, people to meet, and many places to go
The merry maid arrives, our mess to clean up in her own way
Then the gardener comes, to water and help our flowers grow.
The warmth of the new-found day seems as inevitable as death
This weather so perfect, so calm, the breeze a gentle kiss
Living in a wondrous place, this Eden, we must catch our breath
Before we know it we’ll be gone, this sacred place we’ll miss.
But we’ll be back again next season, to this our second home
And although some live here forever and it’s where they stay
Others have different sights to see, many more places to roam
Seems everyone’s going about the day in their own unique way.
- December 2024 – Issue - November 30, 2024
- December 2024 – Articles - November 30, 2024
- December 2024 - November 30, 2024