Sorry this place has gone semi-silent lately, things have been extremely busy in the realm of reality for me. It's all good stuff, though. I've had the opportunity to cultivate the seeds of cultura in young people through the work I do.
Cinco de Mayo is always a tricky holiday for me because one of my biggest pet peeves is usually set ablaze. It gores the nerves how the alcohol industry has usurped the beauty of the Mexican culture and made what should be a celebration of victory of a perseverant people among horrible odds, into a drunken mockery called Drinko de Mayo.
It's not so much that alcohol plays a central part of the marketing, it's the perversion of an unholy marriage that "Mexican Fiesta = Drunk Time" that gets to me. Luckily I was able to spend the weekend watching and coordinating with young Xicanos performing mariachi and folklorico to a crowd of proud families, friends and community.
The drums of an Aztec Danza de Cuahtemoc, the sweet scent of sage billowing out of a ritual conch bowl, the rattle of shells adorning the ankles of the cultural trailblazers - that is how one can wield the fire of orgullo in the veins alive.
The piercing sound of the trumpet, proclaiming its melodic prayer along the heartbeat of the guitarrón, as the vibrant trajes de Jalisco move in harmony to the ancient dances of indigenous people - a cause for the heart to smile.
So yeah, that's what I've been up to lately.
As my brothers and sisters feel the sting of acid rain in El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora La Reina de Los Angeles de Porciúncula, a hard Truth remains - no matter what century, or what form the conquistadores choose to oppress the spirit of la raza - we shall continue our dance unabated.
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