Feria Patronal Atolinga 2010

You may note that I made the trip to Atolinga, Zacatecas and Agua Zarca, Jalisco on August 3 to attend the fiestas but haven't yet described those fiestas, instead focusing on family, dwelling space and movement. The fiestas were nonetheless the main motivation for the massive return to Atolinga from the US at this time in August (as revealed in the license plates belying the origins of vehicles as far away as California, Alaska, Washington, New York, Texas and Illinois). It's common for towns and cities to have their ferias and these can happen at any time of year. Usually, though, these kind of ferias patronales happen once a year, bringing back old and young, men and women, even second-generation children without their parents (unusual because many kids come only because of their parents and then enjoy it all in spite of themselves). I've also heard they are scheduled at a time that makes sense for the US members of the community -- sometimes because they contribute organizational funds.

It was the Feria Patronal (July 30 - August 10) that initially brought me to Atolinga at this time as a guest of Chavo and his family. I'm not sure how long these fiestas have been going on, so I'll have to ask around on my next visit. I didn't attend all the events, because I often felt pulled in different directions, stretched between the Lienzo Charro and family at the Rancho, or between sleeping in after a late night and going to visit family members down the street. Because I felt obligated to party as much as the twenty-year-old's -- and pushed myself to stay awake after 1am (without drinking as much tequila, mind you), I wasn't able to get to know older folk as much as I wanted (partying late at night requires sleeping in!). This will have to come on my return trip to Monmouth and my second trip to A/AZ. Ironically, this full participation may have distracted me from the larger cultural context that lay at the heart of my investigative voyage.

The Feria Patronal Atolinga 2010 begins one week before August 7, the day to celebrate Saint Cayetano. The formal, printed program reads chock full of events: theatre, beauty pageant (two candidates presented themselves on the cover of the program - Liset and Janett, but I heard that Liset won), music (including a talent show and a American idol-like performance on the main stage next to the square), sports (volleyball, soccer and basketball), the Lienzo Charro, carreras or horse races at Laguna Grande (a wetlands area about 10 mins outside Atolinga), rodeo (tickets sold for the benefit of the San Cayetano Parish), folk dances, la corrida or running of the bulls, banda groups like “Comillo Norte” (Northern Fang) and “La Skandalosa” at the town auditorium (recently inaugurated, according to Chavo's grandfather), mariachi bands and even more bandas, again at the town auditorium. In addition to being on the formal program, banda bands are hired for an hour or an evening at a time lining the plaza or town square, often within feet of other groups. The end result is that five or more bands, dressed in a variety of colorful costumes, play simultaneously throughout the night. Older folk who pass by don’t often stay very long often, not seeming to care for the blaring brass band sounds. A young people's music?

A stroll (una vuelta or un paseo) around the plaza is quite common. Couples hold hands and walk slowly around or groups of friends strut as others look on. In the past (and the strolling seems to be an ancient ritual), men would eye women they found attractive, and possibly find a match there. The plaza becomes more and more densely packed as the week goes on until, on the last night, it is virtually impossible to move amongst the crowd (one friend mentioned this was because outsiders came from surrounding towns on this night, having heard about this renown fiesta). At this time, two friends in town began to sell parking spots, hanging big vinyl cloths with the letter E marked to announce estacionamiento.

Snacking folk eat tacos in stands lining the plaza and chat with friends they haven't seen over the last year (especially if one or the other lives in the states) and, lest we forget, drink tequila. Younger folk, all gussied-up in Cowboy boots, rodeo shirts and hats (for men at least) and high heels and short skits (for women – I was usually under-dressed) gather in groups, and bring bottles of tequila and Squirt and drop them in the middle of the circle for everyone to share. Members of the groups who gather around the square seem to have gotten to know each other over the years; many live in other places – in the US – during the year and come home for the fiestas. Few live in Atolinga year-round (a subject for later discussion).

Los bailadores (dancers) show up at 9 or 10 after a few tacos adobados. They may walk around the plaza a few times and catch up with friends, but the dancing occupies most of their energy, so forceful and loud that there's little possibility of having a conversation. Banda groups dominate. If there were a musical equivalent to a frijol salterín or jumping bean, this would be it. Its rhythm is absolutely non-stop – clarinets, trumpets, trombones, tubas, saxophone, bass drum and snare drum. The clarinets and tubas make it unique (and caused me to lose my hearing in my right ear one night); while the tuba resonates with a deep, reliable and solid oompapa sound echoing the polkas from Northern Mexican and tejano music, the clarinets offers a crazy pico de gallo flavor sounding much like a chicken pecking and rounding around in circles. Players wear the same uniform with the name of the band on the back. Couples dance closely something like the Texas two-step, and, every now and again, fancy it up with a turn or two. The most fascinating (and yet troubling for the female dancer) step in their repertoire seems to be la quebrada; this literally translates to the breaking, but means the lead dancer, the male, will dip the woman down almost near the ground then shake her body once or twice. It looks pretty cool when others do it but feels rather like a roller-coaster when you are the female being dipped!