Wednesday 6th January 2010…another day for the memory bank!!!

This is taken from a National geographic article.

In Central Mexico, time and place are fluid, and history runs into the present, and the present is always straining into the afterlife so that nothing is only what it seems. For example, at dawn on January 5, the day before Epiphany, on a dusty rancho in El Rodeo just east of the city of Guanajuato, roosters are insulting one another and shouting for the sun to come up, and a handful of cowboys on fresh horses are dressed as if for church, in white cowboy hats, shirts with faux-pearl buttons, and boots that still bear a literal resemblance to the animal from which they were made: snake, lizard, alligator. There is an edge of cavalry about the way the cowboys spin their leather-and-silver-clad mounts in the orange-blue dust, but next to them is a skin-and-bones mare whose foal was recently killed and eaten by the dogs. She hangs her head beside the cactus to which she is tied, absorbed in the constant, anonymous scrabble for life that is everywhere here, and there is nothing of cavalry in her. The air is scented with cooking smoke and drying laundry.

It's as if everything may happen (the mare may revolt, the cowboys may burst into prayer, miracles may ensue), or nothing will happen at all (the mare will take one breath after another, the cowboys will dismount and make for their construction jobs, the roosters will find a dusty nest and fall asleep). In the end, because this is central Mexico, something entirely other happens. Like rocks being tumbled under a great river, the road that leads from here to Guanajuato begins to clatter, and out of the dawn, thousands of cowboys on a mix of mounts from eager stallions to a black-and-white-spotted donkey appear. With less flourish than you would think, the cowboys from El Rodeo jog out of the rancho onto the road and join the procession.

Christ the King—or a 65-foot-tall depiction of him —stands on top of Cubilete mountain in the state of Guanajuato, thousands of feet up cobbled switchbacks from the high plateau, which is nonetheless called el bajío, the lowland. It is to this statue's feet that three or four thousand cowboys are riding, just as the three wise men are supposed to have ridden to the manger in Bethlehem on this day roughly 2,000 years ago. It is said that this statue of Cristo Rey is most famous for his expressive hands, the way they are held out from his sides, as if the son of God were about to quell a riot.

Pilgrimages to Cristo Rey, to Our Lady of Guadalupe, to depictions of saints elsewhere in the country, are common in Mexico. But seldom is there such a massive cabalgata —a horseback gathering —of faith; it swells by hundreds of riders each year, a word-of-mouth event of magnificent proportions. "It's no one important who rides," one cowboy says, "but it is all of us who have the Lord in our hearts no matter where in the world we go." It is true the riders include construction workers from Chicago, rig workers from Texas, gardeners from Guanajuato, laborers from San Miguel de Allende, farmers from Jalisco. "We are el pueblo," the cowboy says.

So this was the destination today.  I also went last year with Janet and Malc and this year I went with two couples from the RV park, Nancy and Terrie and Claudia and PJ.

Again it was cloudy and cool and we left about 9.30am.  It was only just over one hour to the base of the mountain and the Statue could be seen for miles.

As I mentioned about the bag of oranges yesterday, iI remembered from last year the drive up to the statue on bumpy cobbled roads and the sides of the roads were filled with families begging, at least this year we had some oranges to give away.

 

To set the stage about 2500 cowboys and cowgirls ride their horses almost to the Statue but before the final ascent there is a huge Chapel with white lines painted down the centre on the approach.  At the opposite end of the Chapel is an altar on high ground and for over three hours blessings and ceremonies are performed.  The cowboys then dismount and walk on foot up to the altar to be blessed.  They then get back on their horses and finally ride up to the Statue.

To see the following scenes acted out is really hard to describe so please sit back and enjoy these incredible photos….

The Statue is small in the back ground.

 

The Chapel…

 

We then walked up to the area where the altar was..

This is my favourite photo..

This one too….

This Priest was giving blessings and had a huge line up!!

I want to say at this point we were the only non Mexicans around and everyone was very friendly.  I don’t know what happened next but I was standing on the edge of the Altar taking it all in when this older man approached me took off his coat and put it on me and then put his hat on me and wanted my friends to take photos!!!

Thankfully he didn’t ask me to get on a horse.  I gave him a Canadian key chain, shook hands and another incredible experience.

We then walked to the top of the hill and the Statue is supposed to be situated at the geographical centre of Mexico.

The people were approaching the Temple on their knees.

It was a very moving and memorable sight.

We then walked down and my friends had lunch.

On the way down the cowboys were lining up to go to the Altar for their blessings.

On of the few Cowgirls..

This was taken from the back of the truck on the way down.

This was a very interesting character I gave him a key chain and he gave me a CD, he said of himself and his horse in Toronto, I haven’t seen it yet.!!!

Some of these Cowboys come from many miles away and here are some on their way home.

Thanks for the ride Nancy and Terrie and it was indeed another day I shall never forget. 

Knowing how you love horses Sara wish you could have been here today.

This is Sara and two of her sisters in Waterton Park, Alberta.

 

When I got home and checked the blog site a pretty memorable number of hits on the site meter!!!!!