I didn't participate much in the town's festivities while I was in Hometown this last time around.
I've explained the tradition before: it's Spanish in nature. The towns were given patron saints during the Conquista, and for centuries, the towns celebrate the patron's day. Nine days prior to the actual celebration, the town participates in the daily ritual of walking around town at six in the morning, praying the rosary, setting off fireworks at the start of each new... mystery (I think that's what it's called in english. The rosary consists of five "mysteries"... you know, each little batch of 10 Hail Marys, started by a single Lord's Prayer). Then at four in the afternoon they go to a daily mass.
Then the night before the main celebration (the 9th of the month, in my town's case), they have a giant firework's display. Then on the actual day of the celebration, they have more mass, more singing... and more fireworks. The FOLLOWING day, they have a rodeo and huge dance, where they crown a young lady as the "queen of the town."
These three days, while loaded with lots of church activities, are even more loaded with DRINKING. Men are FUCKED. UP. for the entire week... more like ten days.
ANYWAY, the only times I participated in anything were on the 9th (mass at 2PM, and only because it was late enough for me to have some good rest, a nice breakfast, and a shower. Then the fireworks bullshit until 2 in the morning), and Mass on the 10th.
OF CROUSE, I was heavily criticized for this.
"THEN WHAT THE HELL DID YOU COME HERE FOR?!" I'd always hear.
My response was always "Simple: to relax. I come here to relax."
People don't understand why I enjoy walking around town, admiring the scenery.
They judge me crazy.
Seriously.
I try not to be haughty, but after continuos BULLSHIT, I just have to become a bitch.
"I live in Las Vegas... I can party ANY night out there. You know what we don't have out there? GRASS. GREENERY. RAIN. NATURE. What you have in abundance here, we lack over there. What you guys enjoy here for a week, we have in excess over there every single day of the year. I DON'T care to party. I DON'T care to hook up with guys. I want to sit here, with my thoughts, and just enjoy nature. That's it."
It had been a while since Hometown had been peaceful. I hadn't been able to enjoy sitting alone in a desolate place for nearly a decade. When the whole Cartel shit started, there was this indescribable fear in the air... uneasiness... heartbreak. It was the worst case of nerves to think of going to the fucking grocery store, running the chance of getting caught in a shoot-out... and not just a "normal" shoot-out, but one involving rocket-launchers and grenades, like some fucking war-torn country in the middle-east, only worse because the WORLD did NOT give a shit... we DID NOT EXIST as far as they were concerned.
This year, for the first time, I was able to walk alone, chill alone, stand on the road and admire MY TOWN, without having soldiers OR masked gunmen hold me up, pointing assault rifles to my face, asking for information.
I visited Hometown because I wanted to enjoy the solitude... the safe solitude, that I can't find in Vegas.
I did not visit Hometown to be a raging alcoholic, prowling the town in search for dick... to get "dolled up" to seduce the already heavily-intoxicated "men." I didn't care to be on camera, looking like some fucking town celebrity.
I also didn't go to be locked up in church. I do not have the vocation of a nun... I am comfortable seeking the church when my soul is not at rest... I go once a week to get my therapy... but I certainly do not enjoy waking up at dawn to pray the rosary and shoot firecrackers. I'm sure God understands... I'm sure God appreciates the fact that I'm very much a good girl, even if I do enjoy sleeping instead of locking myself up in a church for a week.
It was fun hearing these people judge me for avoiding their activities... it was a nice learning experience.
(To clarify, the ones judging me where the Hometowners who live in the US, not the Hometowners who LIVE in Hometown. They'd just ask me why I go, but would be happy to hear my reply. The relocated Hometowners? Not too happy)
I've explained the tradition before: it's Spanish in nature. The towns were given patron saints during the Conquista, and for centuries, the towns celebrate the patron's day. Nine days prior to the actual celebration, the town participates in the daily ritual of walking around town at six in the morning, praying the rosary, setting off fireworks at the start of each new... mystery (I think that's what it's called in english. The rosary consists of five "mysteries"... you know, each little batch of 10 Hail Marys, started by a single Lord's Prayer). Then at four in the afternoon they go to a daily mass.
 |
| All jazzed up. Patron saint in the middle like a... king. |
This is nine days.
Then the night before the main celebration (the 9th of the month, in my town's case), they have a giant firework's display. Then on the actual day of the celebration, they have more mass, more singing... and more fireworks. The FOLLOWING day, they have a rodeo and huge dance, where they crown a young lady as the "queen of the town."
These three days, while loaded with lots of church activities, are even more loaded with DRINKING. Men are FUCKED. UP. for the entire week... more like ten days.
ANYWAY, the only times I participated in anything were on the 9th (mass at 2PM, and only because it was late enough for me to have some good rest, a nice breakfast, and a shower. Then the fireworks bullshit until 2 in the morning), and Mass on the 10th.
OF CROUSE, I was heavily criticized for this.
"THEN WHAT THE HELL DID YOU COME HERE FOR?!" I'd always hear.
My response was always "Simple: to relax. I come here to relax."
 |
| My view returning home form the tiendita aka "mini mart". How the fuck am I not going to come to a halt and admire this shit? |
They judge me crazy.
Seriously.
 |
| Judged for standing in front of my maternal grandparent's home and admiring this... But, you see... I spent my childhood staring at this same sight... so many afternoons and nights sitting in that field, just crying my eyes out, completely heartbroken, but out of sight from EVERYONE. Many rainy nights spent sitting in the porch, listening to Grandpa's scary stories while watching this mountain light up with the lightning. |
"I live in Las Vegas... I can party ANY night out there. You know what we don't have out there? GRASS. GREENERY. RAIN. NATURE. What you have in abundance here, we lack over there. What you guys enjoy here for a week, we have in excess over there every single day of the year. I DON'T care to party. I DON'T care to hook up with guys. I want to sit here, with my thoughts, and just enjoy nature. That's it."
It had been a while since Hometown had been peaceful. I hadn't been able to enjoy sitting alone in a desolate place for nearly a decade. When the whole Cartel shit started, there was this indescribable fear in the air... uneasiness... heartbreak. It was the worst case of nerves to think of going to the fucking grocery store, running the chance of getting caught in a shoot-out... and not just a "normal" shoot-out, but one involving rocket-launchers and grenades, like some fucking war-torn country in the middle-east, only worse because the WORLD did NOT give a shit... we DID NOT EXIST as far as they were concerned.
This year, for the first time, I was able to walk alone, chill alone, stand on the road and admire MY TOWN, without having soldiers OR masked gunmen hold me up, pointing assault rifles to my face, asking for information.
I visited Hometown because I wanted to enjoy the solitude... the safe solitude, that I can't find in Vegas.
I did not visit Hometown to be a raging alcoholic, prowling the town in search for dick... to get "dolled up" to seduce the already heavily-intoxicated "men." I didn't care to be on camera, looking like some fucking town celebrity.
I also didn't go to be locked up in church. I do not have the vocation of a nun... I am comfortable seeking the church when my soul is not at rest... I go once a week to get my therapy... but I certainly do not enjoy waking up at dawn to pray the rosary and shoot firecrackers. I'm sure God understands... I'm sure God appreciates the fact that I'm very much a good girl, even if I do enjoy sleeping instead of locking myself up in a church for a week.
It was fun hearing these people judge me for avoiding their activities... it was a nice learning experience.
(To clarify, the ones judging me where the Hometowners who live in the US, not the Hometowners who LIVE in Hometown. They'd just ask me why I go, but would be happy to hear my reply. The relocated Hometowners? Not too happy)
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