Feria de San Antón

Last Friday, our sweet little Colonia San Antón transformed from a typical Mexican neighborhood with storefront bakeries, mechanic shops and fruit stands to a booming, bustling festival of carnival games, fried foods and double-layered trampolines. This week was the festival of San Antonio, the patron saint and namesake of our neighborhood. Each year in each neighborhood or small town in Mexico, celebrations take place to honor the Patron Saint of that neighborhood or town - but mostly it's an excuse to stay up late, walk in the street and eat as much elote as your body can handle.

Everyone who lives on the street has a love/hate relationship with the feria. For the most part, I love it. I love sitting in my apartment hearing children squeal with delight as they bounce up and down on a trampoline that is 15 feet in the air. The smell of elote and tacos floating in through the windows is something that has become so comforting and sweet and delicious. Greeting the umbrella seller and the chamoyada stand that have a temporary home two feet from my doorway make me feel like we've got a nice, little community here. And the best part is the hour long parade of the Morelos-born Chinelos, traditional dancers dressed up to make fun of the Spanish conquistadors, who walk and dance and jump and blast their trumpets twice a day for ten days in a row, never hinting that they are hot or tired or have done this 20 times before. 

The down-side to the festival is the fireworks (not the pretty kind, but the loud kind) that blast from our next-door lot at 2 am, 3 am, 4 am, 5 am and then about 100 to 150 at 6 am. Also, throughout the day. Always when you least expect it. 

It's not my favorite. And as they continually go off tonight and as I smell the smoke and see the residue, I'm a little anxious for the end of this fest. But until then, here's a little snippet of the fair:

That's our house! (the green one)

Daily Chinelo Parade