|Little one - before the rain|
The music was fabulous and much of the town was there. Children, parents, grandparents, teenagers. Most people were Mexican with a few gringos scattered about. Some dancing, some sitting along the short walls that surrounded the raised gazebo/stage in the center of the square.
A strangely dressed person in an odd pink dress with a wig and mask danced around the stage. She'd chase the young boys that came near and they'd scatter as though she was breathing fire.
I felt in the way, as there was no place to stand to watch where I wasn't blocking someone's view, but Arayo took care of that problem. Quickly she became a magnet for the adults, but mostly children, that wanted to pet her or have their photo taken with the big black Newf.
One little girl, perhaps 2, became attached to her and posed for photos with this creature that was 3 times her size. When her mom was finished, the little girl came up to me and insisted on giving me a thank you kiss. THAT doesn't happen in America!
The band had just finished a number when something flew from the sky. I thought maybe someone had tossed a water balloon off the gazebo as the crowd gave a collective gasp and everyone began running.
Perhaps the size of the wet splatters on the pavement should have tipped me off. Used to the rains of the Pacific Northwest, when a bit of water falls from the sky, you just keep on doing what you are doing. But these folks were scrambling as though threatened with machine gun fire.
30 seconds later, I got it. The skies opened and a flood poured on the group. People headed for the streets, crowded on the stage and some of us got as close to the gazebo as possible to take advantage of a small overhang.
|After the rain|
The lightening and thunder began and unbelievably the rain got stronger. For 10 minutes we waited but there was no sign of it letting up, so covering my glasses with my hand and pulling Arayo tightly to me, we dashed towards the street and home.
It is about 6 blocks from the square to my hotel. As we zipped past overhangs, water ran off roofs in sheets and drain spouts shoot water into the street that could easily be coming from a fireman's hose.
I couldn't help it. The entire thing cracked me up and as we waded raging rivers that had once been cobblestone streets, I was laughing like some kind of maniac!
Occasionally we'd stop for a second to catch our breath, and, like kids, I'd giggle with others also trapped in the rain. Though we shared no spoken language, the camaraderie of being caught in this sudden storm helped form a short bond.
Back at the hotel, still laughing with glee, we opened the door, raced through the lobby and out across the garden patio, only to find a couple inches of water in front of my room, and water making its way inside. But, before damage could be done, the rain tapered off.
Tonight I must say I'm glad I'm not sleeping in a tent. But oh, how I love travel!