The Start Of An Ajijic Day

By Catherine A. MacKenzie

 

ajijic-calle

In Ajijic, the Mexican day starts off with a loud bang

Shots of unwelcome firecrackers before the rising sun

Noisy vehicles driving by, metal on metal making a clang

Some eye-opening signs that another new day has begun.

The shining sun beaming through the windows’ glass

Roosters crowing their incessant “cock-a-doodle-dooooo”

Cars blaring foreign music, loud-speakers selling gas

Above it all the omniscient sky, a clear bright blue.

Men on horses, clomping down the street, raising dust

Women out with brooms and water, controlling the dirt

Cleaning their storefronts and homes, an energy so robust

Other women hanging laundry on rooftops, many a shirt.

The bustle of the people, their footsteps on the ground

Seem happy as they go to work or starting their busy day

Easily walking on uneven cobblestones, rough and round

Sharing their merry greetings as they pass on their way.

The many sad dogs, their mournful wails in the night

Now lay docile, sleeping on steps, others roaming wild

Depositing brown droppings, such an unpleasant sight

But though some may be orphans, most are ever so mild.

The children, not a care, walking to classes at school

Dressed alike in uniforms, so neat and tidy and clean

They are happy to go, seem to follow the Golden Rule

Parents raised them well, with manners, even the teen.

The intermittent peelings of the church bells ringing

So pure and loud, inviting, seemingly right on cue

The constant chirping of the many hidden birds singing
Amid loud echoing bangs of more popping rockets, too.

The many varied smells abound in the busy dusty street

Happy Mexicans out cooking in huge vats of dark grease

Don’t know what it is, don’t want to know - some sort of meat?

Only a few peddlers around, selling items piece by piece.

We Gringos prepare for the start of another blessed day

With errands to run, people to meet, and many places to go

The merry maid arrives, our mess to clean up in her own way

Then the gardener comes, to water and help our flowers grow.

The warmth of the new-found day seems as inevitable as death

This weather so perfect, so calm, the breeze a gentle kiss

Living in a wondrous place, this Eden, we must catch our breath

Before we know it we’ll be gone, this sacred place we’ll miss.

But we’ll be back again next season, to this our second home

And although some live here forever and it’s where they stay

Others have different sights to see, many more places to roam

Seems everyone’s going about the day in their own unique way.

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