How to have a pachanga [party]

Before I get to the title entry for this post, there's a bit of catch up to do.  

Saturday morning at 7:30 am I was awakened by loud music. Not just any music, but an amateur brass band trying their hand at what I believed was Mexican oompah music. I couldn't resist, and wandered down the block where I found La Banda Tracional de Ajijic having a morning practice. Seems that's the only time they can all get together, and since they were performing on an upcoming Saint's day they needed to work out. 

 One of the great things about México is that their culture, and in particular their music, has not been drowned in the enormous ocean of the US entertainment industry. Certainly there has been influence and it is here, but ranchera, mariachi, and Mexican pop are alive and well and thriving. To hear a bit of their practice, go here: La Banda.

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 Later, at a much more civilized hour I was taken for breakfast by Lee and Mary, our tenants at Zaragoza.

They took me to place very close by called Les Molletes. Molletes are split buns baked with cheese and a variety of other items of your choice. I chose scrambled eggs and bacon.

Very yummy, and Mary and Lee are delightful company. We'll have to do it again.

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Of course yesterday was Super Bowl Sunday. I ended up at a restaurant where I'd had lunch before, Maria Luisa (the old Posada Ajijic). It was fun, though the buffet was unexceptional,  but I was able to watch the game with some other folks which was my goal. I did give up at half time - the interminable show got to me. Finished up watching at home.

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Now about that pachanga, which is a party that goes late and loud.

About 10 pm as I was contemplating bed, when suddenly I hear music - very much like what I'd heard this morning. It sounded like it might be coming from the plaza. Maybe there was some party going on in honour of Día de la Constituión [Day of the Constitution], which was today.  I decided to investigate.

I went outside and began to walk towards the plaza, but something was wrong. The sound wasn't coming from there. I looked around trying to place the location when a young man pointed up to the carretera [highway]. Sure enough, there it was on the other side of the street. I crossed, and as I approached I saw a large crowd of young people. When I got there I saw what it was all about. There was a brass band of at least 15 players including a very enthusiastic tuba player leading the group.

I took out my camera and began filming. Within two minutes a young man came over and asked me if I had a drink, and I allowed as how I did not. In a few moments I was holding a large cup of an orange drink which I was told was variously a montera or a pampolino. La banda played with great fervor. Yes, their quality was completely outdistanced by their enthusiasm, and even that was overwhelmed by the joy of the crowd.

After  watching the dancing for a while I wanted to see what was going on in the back. I wandered there, and that's where the food was. It wasn't more than 30 seconds before I was approached by Juan, who I took to be the host. Why, he wanted to know, wasn't I eating? One look at the meal laid out convinced me it was a good question.

Shortly, I was equipped with a plate of tacos. They were excellent.

As best I could figure they were members, friends and family of a football team celebrating either a win or a loss. I didn't know, and I'm not sure they cared. Whatever it was, it was a good excuse for a party. And that's how you make a pachanga - any reason, lots of food, loud music and lots to drink.

One of the best things about México is that no one is not invited to the party. There's reason Mexicans always make large quantities - whether it's a dinner reunión or a fiesta, you never know how many guests you'll have. Still, it was late and I was tired, so I said good night to all and took myself home.