It’s over for another year. The town has settled back into its normal routine and collection of sounds, and I am reflecting on this raucous, spirited, holiday, which means so much here.

In the days that lead up to February 24th, there is an energy and excitement that builds, as does the noise level, especially at night. The carnival is setting up with its rides, and try-your-luck games. The array of street food and its tempting aromas are everywhere. The cock fights are on, and the town fills with people.

The battling bands challenge our sleep, although I don’t think they all play until 5:00a.m. as in the past.

For years, I remember being awakened by a bent sounding trumpet that played a wakeup call each morning at about 5:30 a.m. I never knew who it was, where he or she was, and the significance of this ritual. I have asked many people, and have yet to find the answer. If any of you know this, please write in to the comments section and tell me about it.

All of this leads to the parade day, with its elaborate, homemade floats, the little princes and princesses, and, of course the dancing horses and their riders decked out in their finest.

This year, in the square, I saw a lovely woman in her ladies riding habit with its full pleated skirt draped over her horse and saddle. She took my breath away, with her perfect riding form and a look that took me back to old Mexico, and the hacienda days.

I never tire of watching the relationship between rider and horse, as though they were one. The movements of the riders to communicate with their horses are imperceptible, and I wonder how many years it takes to perfect this.

There is a Zen quality to their performance, as it seems to take place in another dimension.

I find a strong comparison between Sayulita days, its celebration of Mexico, being Mexican, and, of course the national flag, and the Fourth of July Parades in small towns all over America.

How many of us can remember decorating our bicycles with crepe paper in the spokes; dressing up our dogs and cats for the pet parade; and admiring the local queen and her court on their float.

Also, we were not without the noisy part of our celebration, with the high school bands leading the parade, and the fireworks displays at night.

Everyone brought chairs and picnics as they lined up on Main Street waving the national flag, and dressing in red, white, and blue, celebrating the same thing with the same sense of pride of being part of a community, and a nation.

All of this reminds me, as a guest, and part time resident in another country, that we are all more alike, than we are different.

A Reminder: As the season of fund-raisers is upon us, I want to emphasize to everyone how important they all are. This community would not be what it is if we did not have so much participation from its members. On March 10th, Grupo Pro Sayulita is holding its annual event at Don Pedro’s palapa on the hill. Since this organization supports so many different services, it, and the town need your support. So, even if you cannot go, buy a ticket or two. Become a regular supporter of these events. We all win when you do.

Source:
The Sayulita Son
By Cherrie Alson