| |
The
Streets of ReynosaA
WALK DOWN PINATA ROWby
Luke Warm |  |
| "As I walked out in
the streets of Reynosa,
as I walked out in Reynosa one
day,
I stumbled down into an uncovered manhole;
but that's what you get
when you walk like a Jay." Who
can forget those timeless lyrics? My tattered, bullet-riddled Sidekick's Songbook
says that it was Trad Ballad that wrote it. Trad, a prolific songwriter if ever
there was one, seems to have written just about everything from Greensleeves
to Frankie and Johnnie. Last week, when I found myself walking down those
(semi) legendary streets, I decided to take notes and a few snapshots to share
with my friends at Texas Escapes. |
| First
time visitors to Mexico should be
warned that Mexico (as a developing
country) is a work in progress. It is in a perpetual state of construction. While
half of the country appears to be freshly-painted, the other half is usually in
need of a new coat of paint. This imbalance is corrected every six years when
national elections are held and every flat, upright surface in Mexico
is covered in bright red, white and green paint. |
No
Hay Dos
Mexico
is many things - but one thing it is not is a "nanny-state." The government doesn't
see the need to spend a lot of money on barricades and warnings. Fancy-schmancy
signs for live electrical wires, open trenches or washed-out bridges simply aren't
needed. Mexicans are firm believers in the dictum of "what doesn't kill you makes
you stronger" and to first-timers, it may seem as if there's a program in
place to "strengthen" as many people in as short a period of time as
possible.
Like most visitors, I crossed into Reynosa
from Hidalgo, Texas.*
Soon after clearing the bridge and being ignored by the Mexican customs guards,
I immediately encountered construction. The main street leading to the town square
was being repaved with a snazzy faux-flagstone surface and although it was nearly
finished, electrical wires for underground utilities and (what appeared to be
sharpened) rebar jutted menacingly from the curb. I considered taking a detour,
but remembering Yogi Berra's sage advice about the fork in the road - I took it.
|
Eat
My Species!
As
I headed uphill to downtown, I was pleased to see one of my favorite Chinese restaurants
still in business. I'm sure the old typewritten menu that proudly offered "shrimp
with mobster sauce" was gone. The door still had its aging sign from the
"eat my species" school of signage. You're probably familiar with these signs.
They're the ones where cows proffer you burgers, pigs smile while barbecuing their
offspring and chickens gleefully serve their dismembered kin with a side order
of slaw. In this particular case a fish of Asian ancestry offers some diced and
stir-fried relatives. |
| On
the next block I found another old friend
- an elaborate and detailed Rivera-esque mural. It may be the only historical
mural along the border and it's a nice one, even though it's showing signs of
age. The height of the building across the street has allowed the morning sun
to lighten the bottom third of the painting, but the upper two thirds are fine.
On the far right side of the mural a Mexican family and an American family cross
paths at the border. |
| | The
Rivera-esque Mural at the wrong time of day
TE photo, March 2006 |
This
part of Reynosa (on the east
side of the town square) is made up of restaurants, drugstores and nightclubs.
The once-numerous liquor stores have have melted away to just a few. Businesses
on the west side of the square are mainly corner groceries, beauty salons, doctor's
offices and residences. These eventually give way to tire repair businesses, body
shops and pinata factories.
I passed the square (as busy as ever) and
started downhill toward my destination. The streets were blocked with water-delivery
trucks, telephone repair trucks and street repair vehicles. Like the situation
with paint - half of Mexico seems to be undergoing repair while the other half
is awaiting it. Sidewalks were split and cracked or missing altogether. "When
in Mexico, do like the Mexicans." So I started walking in the street. |
| | | An
apprehensive Tinkerbell hopes to be bought before the Batmen are finished. TE
photo, March 2006 |
Pinata
CitySoon
I started having the eerie and uneasy feeling that I was being watched. I could
feel scores of eyes following me down the street. It was a little like the Twilight
Zone episode where mannequins got to spend one day a year among the living
- but here it was the eyes of pinatas that were upon me. Tip:
The best quality pinatas are recognized by their ability to follow you around
the room (or down the street) with their eyes. |
"I
was young and I needed the money."
If
you still think of pinatas as little donkeys - you're showing your age. The last
donkey pinata rolled off the assembly line in 1963. The government promised to
retrain the laid-off workers to work on more modern models, but the old pinata-dogs
were too set in their ways and hung up their paste pots. They just couldn't adjust
to the likes of Bart Simpson.
The
new generation of Pinata makers now take their cues from popular culture. Smurfs,
Ninja Turtles, the stars of 101 Dalmatians and the aforementioned Bart have all
posed for pinatas.
If you've ever wanted to cudgel a Smurf, pummel Batman,
or cuff around Little Nemo (I would strongly suggest that you seek professional
help), but although Pinatas can be a way to release pent-up aggression,
most pinatas are still purchased for children. The papier-mâché effigies
can be made just about anywhere there is adequate space to construct and hang
them. The factories are usually found in the poorer parts of cities - where rents
are cheaper. |
| | Headline
hemlines
A wasp-waisted princess
TE photo, March 2006 |
| | |
| "To Live
and Die in Tamaulipas"Pinata
production is cyclical. Born full-sized, early in the week, they reach maturity
as the weekend approaches (and then die a violent death at the hands of zealous
children). Some pinatas escape this horrible fate by being sent to small town
groceries where they'll hang above the produce section until they gather enough
dust to be declared a hazard by the health department. After the last sacrifices
of Sunday, the cycle starts all over again.
Armatures are twisted into
shape on Monday and on Tuesday larval mermaids and embryonic ninja turtles are
covered with their first skin of obituaries and comics. By Wednesday they are
"hung out to dry" - awaiting their crepe-paper finery. Half-dressed, they sometimes
reveal their secrets to the world. Before my visit I had no idea that Batman favored
tabloid underwear or that Cinderella's hemlines are actually headlines.
Candy, of course, is the objective of every pinata-bash. This is inserted into
the pinata after purchase. Special candy stores stock bulk candy in a range of
prices. Cheap candy for the neighborhood kids - and perhaps more expensive foil-wrapped
candy if your boss' kids are there. There was a time when pinatas were sold with
the candy already inside - but old timers will tell you how "meltdowns" would
result in the candy settling into one appendage or another. When struck, the molten
caramel.... well, let's just say it wasn't a pretty picture. |
The Walk Resumes
As
I advanced deeper into Pinata Country, it seemed to me that just about every other
building had a group of swinging pinatas awaiting their final touches. Evidently
Cinderella has been re-released, so there was an excess of princesses as well
as legions of Batmen (but not a single Robin). There were also a few less-popular
personalities - showing that even pinata artists can get burned out and need to
experiment. |
Dog
Day Afternoons
Besides
the pinata population, the next largest group of street dwellers I saw were Reynosa's
dogs. These poor animals are broken and bruised survivors - and many of them limp
and list from improperly-healed injuries. Having survived their brief puppyhood
on these (very) mean streets; they spend their adulthood bravely defending their
master's homes - staying up all night every night. The next day is spent
sleeping (with one eye open for approaching cars).
While 98% of these
dogs wouldn't bite a hot biscuit, once in a while you will encounter a dangerous
one. I'm not talking about Pit Bulls, Doberman pinschers or Rottweilers. The most
threatening dog I saw on the streets of Reynosa
was this Pomeranian-Chihuahua hybrid. He was walking toward me down the middle
of the street - forcing other dogs, humans (including myself) and at least one
car onto the sidewalk. Until I encountered this bantam-weight Cujo, I had never
actually seen a dog swagger. Evidently his sweater gives him elevated status over
his unclothed brethren. It shows that he has a human mother (no
man would put a sweater on a dog) and that means that he is loved. No one is going
to challenge him - knowing that his human "mother" is just seconds away.
To
Be Continued...
*Hidalgo
had its fifteen minutes of fame back in the 1980s when it became the American
entry point for Africanized honey bees. The city of Hidalgo
extended their dubious honor by erecting an oversized, semi-comic killer bee in
their main park.
Text
and photos © John Troesser
"They
shoe horses, don't they?" April 14, 2006 Column
More
on Mexico |
Forum:
Dear TE, I was about to embark on a quest to make a pinata, and
did a Google image search for some creative possibilities, somehow wound up in
the middle of your entertaining piece about Pinata Row. I’m kind of a tough customer
with a short attention span when it comes to reading stuff on the InterWebs, but
I thoroughly enjoyed your article and your sense of humor. I’m from California,
and to my knowledge, have never been to Texas unless
we crossed the panhandle in the
early ‘50’s on our way from Manhattan, Kansas (where my dad was going to veterinary
school) to our family back in Central California. I don’t remember those days,
as I was a wee lad. My mother was a self-taught historian, eventually working
for the city of Thousand Oaks, Ca. in that capacity in the 1980’s. She imbued
in me the importance of saving bits of history, recording events, taking pictures
of old buildings etc. Point being, I appreciate your mission, and salute you for
doing this work. If I’m ever in Tejas, I may come and visit. That’s unlikely,
I guess, but if a white-haired dude shows up at your door with a Batman pinata
under his arm...that’ll be me. Sincerely, David Allen, Thousand Oaks, July
03, 2011 |
| Texas
Escapes, in its purpose to preserve historic, endangered and vanishing
Texas, asks that anyone wishing to share their local history, stories, and vintage/historic
photos of their town, please contact
us. | |
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