renting my culture

My trip to San Miguel de Allende has turned out to be far more enlightening than I thought it would be.


I knew the place was a nest of artists.  But I was pleasantly surprised that it was not one of those navel-gazing art communities that excludes outsiders.  Amish in better designed clothes.


Instead, San Miguel invites people to participate in its artiness.  There are galleries ready to trade the magic of Mexico on canvas or tin or fabric for a wad of peso notes.


But there are also the festivals.  Jazz.  Chamber music.  Film.  All in progress on this stay.


The place is looking alluring enough that I decided to take a look at what is available for rent.  Just in case I want to spend some more time away from the beach now and then.


A friend suggested what I have heard from several other sources -- just start walking and looking for rental signs.  They are all over the place.


For instance, the house pictured at the top of this post is located up the hill from Babs’s place.  It probably is not what I am interested in.  It is too far from town for a reasonable walk -- and the view does not appear to balance out that disadvantage.  But I might take a look.  Just out of curiosity.

 

After my brief rental scout trip, Babs and I headed to dinner with a group of San Miguel residents at El Buen.  Friday night is comfort food night.  Fried chicken.  Fried catfish.  Meatloaf.  Macaroni and cheese.  Mashed potatoes.  Corn bread.  I almost felt as if we had strayed into Atlanta.


The conversation was as varied as the guests.  Who is required to pay capital gains on real estate transactions?  What does the immigration office here require for FM3 renewals?  Who has seen the worst dust storm?  What new restaurants have good food?


There were eight of us.  All Americans.  All, but one, expatriates.  And none of us knew every other person at the table.  But the conversation was lively and entertaining.  You won’t find that with every group of strangers.

 

After dinner, Ron and Fred (from church) asked me if I wanted to join them to watch a film being shown in the jardin as part of the Guanajuato International Film Festival.  This year, the festival is honoring South Korean films.  But tonight's open-air presentation was a short about a Mexican director.


Unfortunately, where we were standing, the soundtrack was hard to hear.  Especially since a mariachi band was doing its best to drown out the sound and make a few pesos of their own.


We then walked by a theater that has been disused for several years.  It has been refurbished and is now the prime venue for the films.  From the exterior, you could tell this was A Place For Film Folks.  Backless couches grouped for conversations that no one was having because their obviously expensive telephones were stuck to their ears.  Too busy to chat.


Tomorrow Paul Schrader’s Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters will be on screen.  And Schrader will receive an award for his writing and directing.  If I can, I would like to get tickets.  If I do, I might get some interesting photographs.


With events like this in town, you can see why I might be interested in picking up a house to rent for regular visits.