lent me your ears

I do  not understand Lent.  Let me say that up front.  It is simply not part of my faith.  But I thought it was part of Mexican Catholic tradition.

When I lived in Greece (admittedly neither Mexican nor Catholic), the day after Carnival, all parties stopped.  Pleasures stopped.  Night clubs were closed.  Until Easter when celebrations popped up in every village square.

I expected something like that in Melaque.  But I knew something was amiss when the next town over (Barra de Navidad) celebrated Carnival a full week after Lent started.  The excuse was that their celebration was so small, they wanted to put it on after the big one in Manzanillo.

Then came the eponymous San Patricio festival.  I know that the Roman Church allows celebrations of saint days to occur during lent -- and the big one is Saint Patrick's Day.  But eight days of full-blast partying seems to push the envelope of dispensation.

And no more did Saint Patrick get stuck back on his shelf in the church than the town started celebrating a week-long rodeo.  Complete with music that blasted over the town until the wee hours of the morning.

I thought things might slow down until Easter.  But I was wrong. 

Starting on Saturday, food trucks, amusement games, and assorted other vendors set up in the jardin.  And the carnival rides that have been here since the San Patricio fiesta were up and running.

This last burst of activity was to empty as many pesos as possible from the semana santa crowd that stared showing up this weekend.  Thesetwo weeks are the life blood of the town.  The church was filled with Palm Sunday worshipers.  But, almost to a person, they filed out into the jardin to party.

All of this struck me as strange for a Catholic village.  The week of the rodeo, I talked to a woman from Guatemala who now lives in a very conservative city in the Mexican highlands.  She was a bit shocked at how much celebration was going on during Lent. 

And if you have read Babsblog recently, you know there are places in Mexico with strong Lent and Easter customs and tradition.

But not in my little fishing village by the sea.  We do not even celebrate Day of the Dead here with any fanfare.  Sure, the students put up stalls in the jardin that end up looking like science fair projects. 

But nothing like the highlands.  The attitude here seems to be summed up by a Mexican friend: "Why would I go out there?  They're all dead."

And death is not what my village is about.  It is about celebrating the good things of life.  It is almost as if Blackpool, Las Vegas, and New Orleans were dropped into a Waring blender and then filtered through a copy of Good Times in Mexico.

On my way home from dinner tonight, I saw families walking and laughing together.  I heard a mariachi band playing in my favorite vegetable store where patrons young and old were dancing to the blare.  And I ran into two tailgate parties in front of Jiggs's first veterinarian's store -- with plenty of music and joy filling the air.

My blogger pal Laurie over at Honduras Gumbo wrote about the people of Tegucigalpa going about their lives celebrating on Sunday.  She correctly pointed out: "For those of us who are using Lent as a season of fasting and praying, let us not forget to include feast days to be glad and rejoice.  After all, we have the Giver of Life in our midst, who wants us to display his love and joy to a suffering world."

Jesus was not only the great teacher of his day, he was also a guy who enjoyed a good joke and a good time amongst the people with whom he shared his life and ministry.

Perhaps that is the tradition my neighbors are keeping alive.  This is a life to celebrate -- and to share with one another.  It is hard to love your neighbor unless you are spending time with him.