ST145 ... The celebrations of war hidden under the cloaks of a trinity
Kachi is traumatized, hiding under a cupboard.
Outside of SMA (San Miguel de Allende, Mexico) less than half a kilometer from a village San Jose de Grassy; they celebrate St Joseph this day of May 3. Starting with loud, very loud explosions sharp across the air at 6am. A lull for a few minutes than more. This goes on for an hour. Many at first then short gaps with one or two loud explosions. My dog is traumatized hiding under a cupboard. They don't care, i presume. Many dogs are horrified of these sounds. I also presume all the animals live in fear of this un-natural thunder. Also the birds, insects, wild four legged, all life gets a shock in sequence entering their biological-cells with fear. This is the way nature warns one of danger, with enormous sharp change in sound and light…. but man has replicated this for an end absurd, a numbness, a coercing into a club, a belief, a system, a tradition, an unnecessary control on the ear lobes of the innocent.
I hear they say it is to get you up and ready for mass, catholic church. Great; scare the wits out of you, dramatize, traumatize than save you with the saint, joseph here, jesus, christianity, the church, celebrate, be happy, march with the band, down to the saving grace of the lord in his home, the big gold laced cathedral, or a more humble painted church.
My dog is horrified. I presume all humans get woken up by the sheer sharp sudden loud explosive noice of the war-like explosions……. attempt to go back to sleep, then again more, eventually a numbness takes over and they eventually, out of despair, honour the theory more than the reality and accept the fine lord into their mental hearts and chant…….'this is our tradition, we love it', all the while their bodies in a tense disturbance now hidden in the numb-shadows of their minds, their hearts forever tainted with the sounds of war to celebrate the serenity and blessings of a god.
I get down on my knees and reach under the cupboard to console my dog Kachi, talk to her, pet her, assure her with my voice and warm gestures that things will be ok. I know the damage is done. I lie, we lie, all in the name of belief, a numbness overshadows us and we console ourselves, i can see it in her eyes…. save me, save us.
The day breaks the sun sheds its light, the marching band over the fields across the land of cactus and sand sounds excited. I welcome the sun into my being and attempt to calm, my numb heart. The explosions spastically curse the space between us and them. Man against the serenity of nature, man against himself, man, arrogant man - so noisy.
I would venture to say it is a mans game, little boys dressed in adult clothes, toys of the boys, rails and nails and pails of masculine stupidity.
The silence is so silent in the pause of the madness.
The women go along, hidden in the shadows of the man…….. all is good, celebrations, the full community, food, laughter, the sharing of caring… that's the way it is.
Tomorrow will be another saints turn from another nearby town. They're everywhere, san this, san that, the tracks of the spanish thousands of miles in every direction. They did to here what was done to them, just hundreds of years earlier. As the world turns, bully-beliefs pushing their ways into virgin territory.
Mexico, a country of beauty and noice. We love it, numb and not.
Weyword Times is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Sustain.
A OneTime Contribution Coffee - click here
Buy Images - click here
Share - WeyWord Times / Writing and Images by Patrick Wey