Baby chickens, an angel in the street and a culture clash

Most of you who know me well would know that I am not a big fan of the farm life.  However, that being said, I am now used to being around chickens, roosters, ducks, dogs and horses.  When we were walking down the dry river bed into town the other day we passed Chela's house and then her neighbors.  The neighbor has at least a dozen chickens wandering around with their attendant, noisy roosters.  Also in the courtyard were several ducks and a handful of ducklings.  I didn't have my phone with me so I didn't get pictures of the little darlings but I did manage to snap a photo of these guys on our way into town yesterday.

There were ten babies.  Mama seems to have been through this routine before as she didn't seem sweet and loving like the cartoon chicken's I'm used to seeing. 

I love our walk to town in the afternoon,  We walk past the same shops and meet the same people everyday.  Often the vegetable shop is filled with people.  Some of these are customers and some of them are family members who serve as delivery people.  This group has figured out that the way to build a business is to take orders either over the phone or by personal visit and deliver them in a very short time.  The deliveries are done on motorcycles by the five boys aged about 14-20.  The young woman who runs the store, either an older sister or wife of an older brother, runs a tight ship.  The boys know exactly what to do, when to do it and who is boss.  We walked past one day and she was clearly giving one of the boys what for because they were doing something incorrectly.  It was funny as we knew it would blow over.  She had just lost her patience as they were very busy.  The business is thriving.  The produce is very good and very cheap.  JD managed to sneak me into this photo.

When we got into town and were on our way town we saw this guy hanging around.  He is posing as one of the Archangels, Gabriel, I think.  The top picture is a little better than the lower but you get the idea.  It took us awhile to figure out that there was a steel bar that ran, not from his foot as expected, but up his sleeve to some kind of platform that he was seated on.  It was quite ingenious and he got a lot of attention (and tips) for his efforts.  The first picture was taken on our way to the beach and the second taken on our way home.  Apparently the gold paint and the sun were too much for him and he had to move to the shady side of the street.

After we had sat with our friends Michael and David, from Ottawa, for a couple of hours talking about their house guests and planning for all of us to attend a fundraiser for the primary school, we started home.  On our way I wanted to stop at the liquor store. 

Liquor here is readily available and is a part of nearly every social situation, gringo or Mexican.  I was looking for a bottle of Johnny Walker Red.  Of course they had it on the shelf above the cash register.  I have to say that I had to pause for a moment and take a breath when I realized that the young woman who was selling me my demon spirits could not have been older than TWELVE!  I felt somehow that this was not quite right and gave her dad, who was standing behind me stocking shelves, a scowl, paid my her my money, counted my change, which was correct, and left. 

 

It is sometimes difficult to remember that Mexico is has different customs than we do in the US.  Alcohol is a big part of nearly every gathering and often children are allowed to drink from a very early age.  It isn't something I can  do anything about but I find this difference between us fascinating.  The legal drinking age is eighteen but it is often not enforced.  It is also legal to have open containers in a moving car.  The reasoning is that the driver can't drink but the passengers should be allowed to do what they want.  Sometimes it takes me awhile to understand the Mexican way of thinking, but I'm learning.  And I'm still not getting into a car when the driver has been drinking, legal or not.