For our last day of freedom Evelyn, Liz, Brittany and I decided to take one of the horseback riding tours through the mountain side and forest, because we pass by the sign for the ranch just about daily. For 300 pesos (about $30 USD) the man agreed to take us on a two hour tour. He brought out four skinny, little horses and saddled them up while we looked on and all secretly tried to decide which horse we would jockey for. I ended up with a chestnut mare that was bony but taller than the others, and yet my legs still extended well beneath her belly.
El vaquero took us through a field with a beautiful view of the mountains, then into the forest and through a few streams. I enjoyed the ride and was excited whenever I was afforded the opportunity to trot my horse. I haven’t ridden in years and my post was a little awkward, but I enjoyed being back on a horse again.
We got back in time for lunch, then went to town to pick up laundry and grocery shop once more before our next three field days. Normally I’ll wash my clothes in the sink on my day off, but it’s nice to give them a good, thorough cleaning once a month. Though I don’t really notice it anymore, our whole house smells like a combination of sulfur, sweat, dirt and damp clothes. Even when our bodies are clean we put on clothes that have been soaking up the peculiar smell, so we immediately pick up the odor too. The disconcerting thing is I’m becoming immune to the scent, so I now have no idea what I smell like to other people I happen to encounter on the street or in a colectivo.
As tonight at midnight is the start of Mexican Independence Day, we found out there would be a large celebration at the city square this evening. Though we have work early tomorrow, we decided we had to at least partake in the party for a little while. We went to town after dinner and walked around the fair, full of squealing children, flashing lights, waving flags and balloons. It smelled like funnel cake and there was tons of traditional music and dancing. We passed by a vendor selling a perplexing drink, which had caught our eye earlier. Our curiosity got the best of us, and we ordered a giant Michelada to share.
We watched the man prepare it by dipping the rim of the cup into a bowl of red mystery sauce (undoubtedly spicy). Then he poured Sol into the cup, along with another shot or two of the hot stuff. Last, he added a brown, sticky lump on a stick into the cup as the final touch. We all eyed it tentatively, pretty sure we were going to hate it but knowing we had to at least try it—especially on an occasion such as Mexico’s 200th birthday. We dipped in our straws and sipped, then everyone was silent while we tried to decipher the complex combination of flavors we were experiencing. One person likened it to a bloody Mary, another to Worchester sauce. I thought it tasted like beer mixed with apple cider and tomato sauce, with a kick at the end. It was sweet and spicy and hoppy all at the small tie.
I was a fan. The others, maybe not so much. But we all appreciated the drink for its uniqueness and presentation. The sauces around the rim dripped down the outside of the cup, giving the appearance that the beer was bleeding. The lump on the stick turned out to be caramel apple and we later found out Worchester sauce was used too, along with chili sauce. After completing what we considerate our initiation and the price we had to pay to participate in the celebration, we washed it down with neutralizing ice cream. While the real party doesn’t start until midnight and the rest of the town will be up all night, we’ll be sleeping in preparation for our return to the field tomorrow.
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