The bus from Vallarta dropped me on the highway and I walked into a town out of One Hundred Years of Solitude. Pines with long shiny droopy needles that hung in circles around upright candles were the most common tree. Mostly one story buildings with tile roofs, all banded in two colors, open doors, dark rooms, a pool hall-dark with three tables, men standing around.... (
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Joan Parker
Sunday a Mexican family drove up in front of the Parroquia (in San Miguel De Allende) in a brand new big American car, got out leaving all doors open, opened the trunk and hood. A priest came out and shook a stick (for want of Catholic terminology) dipped in what must have been holy water --in every open door and in the trunk and under the hood. Then the family got in and drove off.... (more) by Joan Parker