A Different Little Panteon

Buen dia.
Finally got Senor to the IMSS clinic yesterday, after listening to him cough all night long.
Like a good little boy, he took his note with him, translated into Spanish in case he got sent to the doctor who speaks Spanish only..........ant bite, swollen foot, closed throat, fever, sweats, sleeping lots, not eating, no voice, coughing.

His little translation got him ten minutes in the Room with the Spanish speaking doctor, five boxes of medicine and a jar of liquid. After taking all of this twice yesterday and once this morning he is a new person. I am a happy person. And next time we will not wait so long for me to get happy.

Above is a photo of Levant Alcorn, the man the History Club altar was dedicated to this year. I won't repeat how the altar comes about. You can read that in the post before this one. However, below is a link to a marvelous interview that was done with him in 1989. It is really fascinating to learn how he ended up in Alamos.

And below is the altar. I meant for it to be very educational and included a lot of information about him that I had translated into Spanish. The Catrina was not part of the altar, but she adds a little more interest.

http://www.alamosportfolio.com/historyclub/Interviews_Conversations_Levant_Alcorn.htm




I went to the Panteon around 3pm on Wednesday and lit the candles on the graves we have adopted. The Panteon was just packed with people and I limited my picture taking. I seemed to know so many of the people sitting with their graves that I was not comfortable photographing anyone or any graves.

So I am going to show you photographs of different type of Panteon instead.

The local primary school children were asked to make small scale graves of their deceased relatives. They did this and I happened to be setting up the History Club altar on Tuesday, as the children brought in their altars to the museum. Several large groups of children each walked in over the course of an hour and each child took a turn placing their altar on the courtyard floor of the museum. They were so quiet, I could hear them breathing and the starched skirts of the little girls rustled as they walked. After the altars were placed they were given time to walk around and look at them and other than an occasional ooh and ahh, or other intake of breath, they were silent. It was obviously a moving experience for them.........










Equally as moving for me....................adios, linda lou