There is a common misconception regarding roosters.
It is a belief based on stories and fairy tales; one that dictates roosters only ever crow at the dawn.
It seems, that at least here in Mexico, the roosters failed to get that memo.
Here, they certainly cock-a-doodle-doo at dawn, but also at dusk, dark and everything in-between. Perhaps they are set off by the emergence of the first star, the changing of the tides or a barking dog, who, it must be mentioned, also have their own timetable permanently tuned to random.
However, these are Mexican roosters, and, in this country, there is a firm belief in sharing.
For instance, if you love musica ranchera, it is assumed that everyone around you must want to hear it at full-volume too.
If you have a radio in your car (and can you imagine any Mexican without a radio in their car?!?), or in front of your store, strapped to your bicycle or simply held in your hand, it is obvious that you will enhance everyone’s enjoyment of their day if you provide the full glory of your choice by tuning the dial to full-on.
Besides, without these loud soundtracks, how else will you know if the gas man is bumping down your rocky street or if the vegetable guy has a special deal on carrots?
A few days ago, we heard a live band. They were, of course, very loud. The sound was coming from a few blocks away, so we followed it to its source, a trick that didn’t take much detective work.
We came upon seven men ranging in their thirties to fifties. They played two trombones, a guitar, one bass, one trumpet, a kick-ass clarinet and drums in an open carport. They were practising with great enthusiasm that was only matched by the volume attained.
I tried to imagine such a thing occurring anywhere back in BC. There would be complaints and calls to bylaw officers. But here in La Peñita, it’s obvious that would be a ridiculous reaction. All these guys were doing was temporarily drowning out the other random musical outbursts.
I realize I’m making this sound like a noisy place.
In fact, it’s only sporadically loud.
Right now, as I write, it’s 7:30 in the morning. I’m sitting in the back courtyard of our rental casita and all I hear is the aforementioned random roosters, a distant dog, the rumble of a far-off truck. Interspersed is the odd squeal of metal doors being opened and shut.
But mostly there is simply an endless number of little birds twittering in the cool morning air, though the sun is already hinting at the day’s coming heat.
Today we plan to walk down the dusty roads to the nearby market in Guayabitos. And today, like every other day spent in Mexico, we will walk accompanied by our very own soundtrack. Sometimes it will be a lyrical composition of birds and waves. But in between there will be bursts of bass, lots of brass and sporadic loud bells.
It is a soundtrack that proclaims life is to be quietly savoured, but that every once in a while, it should be enjoyed in all its symphonic and colourful glory.
I love this country.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8407Nju3ZE
“It is a soundtrack that proclaims life is to be quietly savoured, but that every once in a while, it should be enjoyed in all its symphonic and colourful glory”.
This sentence reminds me of a small rural town in France where nothing much happens, apart a music and dance festival occurring every summer. For 10 days this small town is transformed in an internationally, colourful, vibrant town of joy, laughter, songs and dance. The flags of all nations are out and for 10 days, it all seems that the world is at peace. After all the excitement, this small town returns to its slow pace of life. The festival has been going on for 50 years and has proved very popular.
Catherine, I can just picture it. Sounds amazing. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if that could be replicated everywhere and the world really could achieve peace through great food and dancing?
I’d love to see that place. It sounds like a little bit of heaven.
This small town is called Confolens in the Charente. The festival is in August.
Thanks Catherine. One of these times, I’d love to experience that.
Hola Amiga
I retired in October, bought a place on the Ocean in Manzanillo, south of you guys. Left the Fraser Valley and moved to Osoyoos in the summer as well.
2017 was a year for Lifestyle change.
Marie
Hola back at you Amiga Marie! No kidding that 2017 was a big lifestyle change. Hard to imagine you out of the Fraser Valley, but Osoyoos is a great town. Between there and Manzanillo, it sounds like you wanted more heat in your future 🙂
Having purchased a home just off the Malecon in Chapala, I can so relate to your thoughts on the soundtrack of Mexico. Just yesterday, I passed a guy with a radio/player hanging from a strap around his neck — playing at full blast. No wheels? No problem… 😉
I love it Shelly. It’s so cool to see how ingenious some of the radio setups are, with speakers tied to handlebars of bikes or strapped to the hoods of trucks, or like you just described, just hung around the neck. Life is out loud here. So cool…
Living Out Loud… What a cool phrase — not to mention a 180 change from my quiet suburban home in the middle of Minnesota.
Great article!
Thanks Margaret. Mexico is always interesting ????????