This is a new edition of an old 1976 copy that can be found only second-hand. So now for the first time this title became available to the general public. Now it is printed in nice easy-to-read font (the old edition was hand-written) but it contains the same pictures. Read about the adventure of the traveller around the world.
- Publication Date:Apr 01 2012
- Page Count: 226
- Trim Size:5.5" x 8.5"
- Language:English
- Color:Black and White
- Related Categories:Travel / Road Travel
Order the paper copy of this book.
Read the excerpt from the book:
Chiapas de Corso, Mexico: I meet a young man here who urges me to stay a couple of weeks to experience a yearly religious festival which features a famous “combate naval”, on the river that flows through this off the beaten path village. The Parisians must return home soon anyway so we bid each other adieu.
My tiny hotel room, costing one dollar per night, is on the second floor facing the town plaza
Ye gods, what noise! Skyrockets whistle and bang at two minute intervals all day and most of the night, deafeningly amplified music and announcements blare from loudspeakers mounted on tall poles and crowds of people, motorcycles, trucks, busses, and animals, all generating their special noises at top volume, surround and fill the square. This indescribable racket lasts without pause the entire two weeks I stay at the hotel.
The most unusual noise is produced by roving bands of boys in costume. With identical white-faced staring-eyed masks, blond rope wigs, colorful serapes, chaps and sometimes boots, these kids are supposed to represent Spanish conquistadors. Each gang chants a song honoring some saint as they shake rattles filled with gravel.
Every night a carnival with midway rides, beer pavilions, and burlesque shows takes place right under my window.
I prowl the village around the clock and get quite caught up by the festive mood. There are no other tourists. I am the only foreigner to hear and see this display. I have lived in Hawaii so long–where only “professional natives” perform all the folkloric activities and shows for the tourist dollar–that the idea of ordinary people doing entertaining things just for themselves seems extraordinary!
So, in spite of the outrageous racket, I find this fortnight refreshing.
I meet one of the young musicians who plays with a local rock group called “Moses and the Resurrection”. He tells me he was with his girl last night in the Town Park and thought it was a most beautiful place. Today, without the girl, he sees that the park is really desolate and filthy.
They walked together in the park
So green and fragrant in the dark;
Today the park is dusty brown–
He’s walking in it all alone.
The last day of the celebration, there is a parade of the townsfolk which seems to me to represent an allegory of human life: Leading the parade are the masked and chanting boys–like awakening spirits–then come the youngest children, boys wearing little suits and girls wearing embroidered dresses; next older girls wearing what appear to be elaborate traditional folkloric dresses and these girls are showered with confetti by slightly older girls walking near them–these older girls are dressed in the latest fashions: tight blouses, silky pants and platform soled shoes. Next come a cluster of men carrying a statue of a saint followed by whet seem to be the important men of the village dressed in black suits decorated with red silk sashes. Last of all, the old women of the village shamble past dressed in faded black and carrying lighted candles like mourners at a funeral. There are no old men–I suppose men in this culture are expected to die young. Everyone living in the village marches in this parade and I am almost the only spectator. I have my camera out like a tourist and the people encourage me to take lots of pictures. Some of them have cameras too and take photos of each other.
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