Movies at the Jacaranda
I just tried to upload some pictures of the Jacaranda trees, which are in blossom now all over the city, but Blogger won't do it for me. I'll try again another time. So instead, I'll tell you about my evening at the Jacaranda Hotel.
Tonight I went to see a movie at The Jacaranda, which is a hotel nearby. From here, you walk down to the beginning of the Privada, turn right onto Aguacates, then left at the Chorro, where the women, and sometimes men, do their laundry in the public tubs in the little, shady park. Turn right at the top of the Parque Benito Jaurez, and follow the street along the edge of the park. Tonight there was a folk dance group, dancing happily on a stage where the basketball courts are, dancing, of all things, to that great Mexican folk tune, Turkey in the Straw.
Go past Sollano, turn right onto Aldama, and the Jacaranda is just a half block up on the left hand side.
I met my friend Jean there, in the upstairs ball room. They show movies here most nights, on a projector screen T.V. It costs 70 pesos, and that includes your first drink, and popcorn. No cartoons though.
It's a large, long room, with a huge crystal chandelier, which I refuse to sit under, because I'm just not sure how securely it's attached to the ceiling. From what I have seen, I do not believe Mexico has much going in the way of building codes.
Nicholas Cage: The Weatherman. Good movie about fatherhood: NC ( the weatherman if of the title)'s relationship with his father, and with his kids. Very well done. NC is so good at those underdog, loser guys who somehow get it all together in the end. I like happy endings.
Walking home, back along the edge of the park, with the sounds of basketball, and the clip- clip-clip of a couple of horses of the mounted police. (They dress in old-fashioned blue uniforms, and are extremely handsome. There are about six or eight of them that patrol the city all day. They sometimes water their horses at the public laundry. You have to watch out for the piles, but I love the smell of horse poop. In moderation, of course.)
I stopped to pat Lucio, the golden retriever who lives down the street, on the head. He always waits patiently at his gate and is grateful for all kind attentions.
Allie and Vato were here to greet me when I passed through our gate. My room-mate Mark is going to the States for a couple of weeks or so, and I'm going to look after his dog, Max, until Sunday, when Mark's girlfriend will take him for the duration. Max is a cute little West Highland Terrior. I'll try to get a photo for you.
The evenings are warm. I had taken a light shawl, but I found I didn't need it. I hear the frogs chirping and singing, and all else is quiet, but for the hum of my laptop fan.
Good night, gentle readers, buenas noches.
Tonight I went to see a movie at The Jacaranda, which is a hotel nearby. From here, you walk down to the beginning of the Privada, turn right onto Aguacates, then left at the Chorro, where the women, and sometimes men, do their laundry in the public tubs in the little, shady park. Turn right at the top of the Parque Benito Jaurez, and follow the street along the edge of the park. Tonight there was a folk dance group, dancing happily on a stage where the basketball courts are, dancing, of all things, to that great Mexican folk tune, Turkey in the Straw.
Go past Sollano, turn right onto Aldama, and the Jacaranda is just a half block up on the left hand side.
I met my friend Jean there, in the upstairs ball room. They show movies here most nights, on a projector screen T.V. It costs 70 pesos, and that includes your first drink, and popcorn. No cartoons though.
It's a large, long room, with a huge crystal chandelier, which I refuse to sit under, because I'm just not sure how securely it's attached to the ceiling. From what I have seen, I do not believe Mexico has much going in the way of building codes.
Nicholas Cage: The Weatherman. Good movie about fatherhood: NC ( the weatherman if of the title)'s relationship with his father, and with his kids. Very well done. NC is so good at those underdog, loser guys who somehow get it all together in the end. I like happy endings.
Walking home, back along the edge of the park, with the sounds of basketball, and the clip- clip-clip of a couple of horses of the mounted police. (They dress in old-fashioned blue uniforms, and are extremely handsome. There are about six or eight of them that patrol the city all day. They sometimes water their horses at the public laundry. You have to watch out for the piles, but I love the smell of horse poop. In moderation, of course.)
I stopped to pat Lucio, the golden retriever who lives down the street, on the head. He always waits patiently at his gate and is grateful for all kind attentions.
Allie and Vato were here to greet me when I passed through our gate. My room-mate Mark is going to the States for a couple of weeks or so, and I'm going to look after his dog, Max, until Sunday, when Mark's girlfriend will take him for the duration. Max is a cute little West Highland Terrior. I'll try to get a photo for you.
The evenings are warm. I had taken a light shawl, but I found I didn't need it. I hear the frogs chirping and singing, and all else is quiet, but for the hum of my laptop fan.
Good night, gentle readers, buenas noches.
posted by Jacquie Wareham Life Coach at 7:35 p.m.
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