DAY SEVEN: ZACATECAS
Dancin' in the Streets
This was the morning to put a fire under my fanny and get up before dawn’s early light and hike to Cerro de la Bufa, the emblematic hill that looms over the city. It’s a few hundred meters to the top. The sun rises over this hill and slowly spills light across Zacatecas in quite a dramatic fashion. This is where you go for your postcard shots.
“Bufa” comes from an old Aragonese word meaning “pig’s bladder” or wineskin, supposedly what the rock crest looked like to the Spaniards. Guanajuato city has its La Bufa, and this year I’ve climbed both of them, a gold frickin’ star for me (I’ve had Guanajuato’s rock on my wanna go list for six years, so give me a break here for my crowing).
In addition to the Zac rock itself, there are several other things of interest. One is the Museo de la Toma de Zacatecas, a meteorological observatory with bullet holes still in the walls. And some mighty big equestrian statues of Pancho Villa, Felipe Ángeles, and Pánfilo Natera, the revolutionary commanders of 1914 who took Zacatecas. Some powerful statements on a small hill.
Doing this hike made me feel like I’ve really experienced Zacatecas, as now I could see the entire city, compared to the bowl I was in the past couple of days. And pre-dawn was the way to go; beautiful light, cool air, peaceful and good exercise as I made lots of wrong turns. The views of the surrounding hills were a bucolic break from the cityscape, offering a broader view of the landscape. Plenty of photos to edit and a story to write. This is now a daily rhythm and ritual.
After a day of laundry, editing, and writing, that evening, I had to take a stroll to see what I could see in nighttime Zacatecas. I turned the corner just outside of the hotel, and a mighty hubbub erupted. The police halted traffic at the intersection, and musicians were walking down the street, playing raucous, snare-drum-heavy music. They were followed by dozens of people dancing and singing. Throw in a donkey that serves as a portable bar, and you’ve got a roving party.
Adding to the chaotic theme, it began to rain, casting a dramatic, glittering glow over the street lighting.
There was a copious amount of alcohol involved. One guy was carrying a two-liter jug of affordable tequila. Baby carriages were repurposed as portable beer coolers; the previous occupants shuttled to the arms of their dancing moms and dads.
So, what to do but join in. But then there’s another group going in a different direction, with their revelers. And another. I was following one, then taking a quick turn to join in with these other guys because they were louder and funner, abandoning the original band. I wasn’t the only unfaithful one. Each group now was finding its musical home for the night: a plaza, a government building entrance, an overhang, or a narrow callejon. The roving parties suddenly stationed themselves, but the dancers were anything but planted. What unbridled joy.
While walking home, I was unclear on the chaos I had just experienced.
I later learned that a Zacatecan Callejoneada is a nighttime walking party through the historic center of Zacatecas, led by a tamborazo band (saw them) and a mezcal‑hauling burro (saw him), with everyone drinking, dancing, and stopping in plazas along the way (saw that).
Just like I did, you follow a band that plays traditional Zacatecan tunes, rancheras, and other Mexican standards. Everyone is singing and dancing. The burro carrying garrafas of Mezcal; and the people wearing little clay cups around their necks to get topped up at each stop. It was pretty special to be part of it.
I understand that the tradition dates back to the mining days, when miners celebrated surviving another shift by roaming the streets with music, booze, and song until late. So, what was a ritual of release is now a celebrated tradition, honoring their ancestor’s tenacity. Something worthy of celebration and a respect for these people’s roots. A way Zacatecas keeps its past loud rather than solemn.
Starting with this post, I will not be posting daily expenses. By now, you get the idea. I’m traveling very inexpensively while traveling richly.
Gringo, Gringo, come out wherever you are. And where are the Mexican tourists in Zacatecas?
That will be tomorrow night all over again.