Cinco de Mayo

I guess that the major celebration is 28 miles away in Alpine, the town with the big grocery store, the Amtrak station and Sul Ross University, but on Sunday afternoon, May 4th, Marfa had a Cinco de Mayo festival, sponsored by the Rotary Club, on the lawn of the grand, peach courthouse. I walked down for it, and it was pretty great. There were tons of kids running around breaking dyed eggs filled with confetti over their friends' heads: cascarones. I bought three: I put my thumb through the tissue paper on one before I understood what they were; one broke in my pocket when I sat on the ground, and the third made it back to the house nestled safely in my cleavage. When a dad broke one on his son's head, confetti blew all over me, which was lovely. I also saw them being broken, gently, on what seemed to be flirtatiously chosen heads.

There were tables full of women playing lotteria, chicken bingo, a pinata, tamales from a cooler, a dj, Mexican Cokes (long neck bottles, more sugar). There were hipsters, one with a poodle with a pink and blue dye job on its puffs of hair, and also a goat. I got a frito pie, for which, to benefit the local high school scholarship fund, a snack sized bag of fritos was ripped open along the side, wolf brand chili (no beans) was ladled from a crock pot over the fritos, cheese was added, plenty of jalepenos, and then I got handed a fork and a napkin to eat it out of the bag. They were going to reenact a battle and also show a movie, but, after a few hours, my knee was stiffening up and I felt sated, so went home.