I have had my fill of sitting in theater seats. At least, for a bit.
On Tuesday, I decided it was time to see some of the tourist sights for which this area is rightfully famous.
When I was here last year, I visited the Sanctuary of Atotonilco about eight miles from San Miguel (doing good -- doing better). For various reasons, it is a very interesting place to visit. This year, I decided to spend almost the full day there.
But I will save the details of that visit for another post.
The entrance to the sanctuary faces west. When I arrived it was not yet noon, and the building was shrouded in shade with a bright sky behind. A photographer's nightmare.
So, I went inside and spent time looking at -- and photographing -- the murals that attract some visitors. I thought the sun would be on the front of the building by then.
I was wrong. It was still shady.
This being Mexico, I decided to exercise my new-found virtue of patience. The sun would be where I needed it in about an hour. The plaza was free of people, other than an elderly Indian couple -- married, I assume -- who sat in front of the sanctuary seeking alms.
I noticed them last year. They were there again. Nobly and quietly asking for help with their eyes.
Al of Rancho Santa Clara had recommended that I read Nien Chang's Life and Death in Shanghai. And this was a great time to get started. Sitting in the sun in the quiet plaza.
I was deep into the first chapter when I glanced up and saw one of the most embarrassing moments I have witnessed in Mexico.
Two men had just arrived by car. As they walked across the plaza, one of the men noticed the elderly couple. To him, they were not alms seekers. They were a photo opportunity.
The husband was seated on a stool and the wife was standing further away. The tourist physically directed her to move over by the man. The Photographer, doing his best Diane Arbus, stood there taking shot after shot as if Kate Moss was in his view finder.
On Tuesday, I decided it was time to see some of the tourist sights for which this area is rightfully famous.
When I was here last year, I visited the Sanctuary of Atotonilco about eight miles from San Miguel (doing good -- doing better). For various reasons, it is a very interesting place to visit. This year, I decided to spend almost the full day there.
But I will save the details of that visit for another post.
The entrance to the sanctuary faces west. When I arrived it was not yet noon, and the building was shrouded in shade with a bright sky behind. A photographer's nightmare.
So, I went inside and spent time looking at -- and photographing -- the murals that attract some visitors. I thought the sun would be on the front of the building by then.
I was wrong. It was still shady.
This being Mexico, I decided to exercise my new-found virtue of patience. The sun would be where I needed it in about an hour. The plaza was free of people, other than an elderly Indian couple -- married, I assume -- who sat in front of the sanctuary seeking alms.
I noticed them last year. They were there again. Nobly and quietly asking for help with their eyes.
Al of Rancho Santa Clara had recommended that I read Nien Chang's Life and Death in Shanghai. And this was a great time to get started. Sitting in the sun in the quiet plaza.
I was deep into the first chapter when I glanced up and saw one of the most embarrassing moments I have witnessed in Mexico.
Two men had just arrived by car. As they walked across the plaza, one of the men noticed the elderly couple. To him, they were not alms seekers. They were a photo opportunity.
The husband was seated on a stool and the wife was standing further away. The tourist physically directed her to move over by the man. The Photographer, doing his best Diane Arbus, stood there taking shot after shot as if Kate Moss was in his view finder.
I could just hear him back in Bayonne. Or Vancouver. Or Des Moines.
"Look at the photograph I took of these little people outside of some church in Mexico. Aren't they quaint? Just look at them."
The only thing missing was the barker from the side show.
I was stunned. I have always been very reluctant to take photographs of people head on. It always seems to be an invasion of privacy. But, more than anything, it was the tourist's boorish attitude that the couple was there to please his tourist appetite.
I wanted to shout: "Stop it!" Instead, I decided that I would memorialize the moment. Perhaps, as a moral reminder to myself. And others.
There. I feel better now.
"Look at the photograph I took of these little people outside of some church in Mexico. Aren't they quaint? Just look at them."
The only thing missing was the barker from the side show.
I was stunned. I have always been very reluctant to take photographs of people head on. It always seems to be an invasion of privacy. But, more than anything, it was the tourist's boorish attitude that the couple was there to please his tourist appetite.
I wanted to shout: "Stop it!" Instead, I decided that I would memorialize the moment. Perhaps, as a moral reminder to myself. And others.
There. I feel better now.
