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It is hardly that the first redish shades of the sunrise start to light up, when fireworks with their din foretell thejoy that today will flood all of the inhabitants of the peaceful and hardworking community of San Josè del Puente.
The reason for this hearts and smiles gathering is no other but the celebration of the patron saint festivity that cheers up everybody today, it is March 19, and Saint Joseph, remains vigilant with his spikenard standing out among the members of this community, interceding on its behalf at the time he is feasted.
This devotion has not gone unnoticed to Doña Àngela the mistress, who on this so special day flashes back her mind to the past allowing it to mix up with the memory of Don Josè, his husband, who gave his name to this community planted aside the bridge.
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They’ve been now several the voices repeating the same among the wifes of the peony who eagerly since almost 3 days ago already do all the arrangements asking Saint Paschal to concede a tasty seasoning, and Saint Almanzo a fair rest.
A daring swallow has achieved a feat while passing in a tortuous flight among the wire strings placed by the butler and the peony, tracing a carpet of hundreds of tiny “paper of china” tiny flags in green and yellow which,rocked by the wind hang above the Elena Square, from the highest part of the chapel to the farmstead.
Don Lencho at the time he scratches out the first accord from his old violin remembres how fraying his second string is,and closing his eyes to imperfection, unites with naturalness his enthusiasm to the melody with which the rest of his “mariachi” buddies and their trumpets, drums and the roar of the fireworks, soak the initial airs of the feast.
The half morning celebration of the Holy Mass unites families in fervour, which convened by the gentlemistress, make the ocassion as of theirs to celebrate baptisms as well as first communions and weddings with the help of the feast at which they are already present all those who should be attending.
After the singing of the “mañanitas” noon games begin, with the “jaripeo”, the leaned barrel and the numbersthe young landowners and their friends, sheathed in their “charro” suits perform in order to decorate their horse withas many of the ringed red ribbon prizes so precious to the ladies attention, and the rivalry of the contendents.
By the time the huge earthenware casseroles with “mole” start passing by, giving off its captivating smells, the nose aswell as the mouth, advised by the stomach, can forecast the beginning of the huge blow-out in which everybody will becongregated with fresh lemonades, just made “tortillas”, beans, rice and any other trifle, complimentary gift of thehouseproud women that invested their experience in them, which shall not be denied to anyone who shows up, sincethe politic here is that “No one shall ever be denied a taco in Mexico”.
As vespers set down, the greased stick as well as the “charro” skills evening contests diminish their racket handing over their place to smartened up faces and elegant dresses envolved in the ball at the main patio of the farmstead, where guests put on their finery.
Serenely the night advances and crickets break silence occasionally to catch a glimpse with their high jumps through the gaps of the
forged iron bars of the windows sheltering dinner and coffee served to the last guests.
The Moon, as a playful cat, has climbed up to the heights, mean while tiredness seizes the last inhabitants of the nocturne spectrum, nevertheless smiles and satisfaction pass on to each other as a beneficial encouraging the hope and the willingness to continue with the labour, matching the tenacious and eternal character of the movement,the more than a wooden artifact but seemingly the heart of a great community, Watermill of San José del Puente. |
