Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“You like Paquita del Barrio!” Xavier burst out laughing. “I can't believe it. How did
you get to know about Paquita?”
I told him. “At home I watch channel 14. I catch the mariachis on the TV.”
Xavier grinned and laughed. He felt great joy riding with an American who enjoyed Pa-
quita del Barrio belting out anti-macho lyrics. She has a repertoire of songs that poke fun
at pretentious swaggering males and other songs that condemn men for the heartbreak they
caused by chasing skirts and losing the women who loved them.
We pulled up behind Jaime's truck. He lived in a modest attractive house with his wife
and youngest daughter. His son Jaime was twenty-six, an engineer who worked in Puebla.
The older two daughters were in college. Alma, the youngest, was in high school.
Jaime introduced us to his wife Loli, a nickname for Dolores. Loli brought out the prize-
winning Yanga dress. On the patio, Jaime started setting up the paintings that they owned
that showed their pride in the history of Yanga. I took notes.
I asked if someone could wear the colorful Yanga dress. I thought Alma might volunteer,
but immediately Señora Loli said that she would be pleased to put on the dress. She came
out wearing a bright orange and green dress embroidered with coffee trees, a variety of
fruits and symbols of Yanga. She wore a kerchief and a white blouse accented with orange
shoulders. Loli said, “My grandmother was black. When I die, I want drums at my funeral.
I'm white on the outside, but black on the inside.” Jaime, Loli and Alma stepped on to the
patio.
I snapped a photo.
Jaime and Loli offered to direct us to the new museum and visit Daniel Cid. “He's over
ninety and has been honored by INAH (National Institute of Archaeology and History).”
Jaime and Loli drove the pickup and Xavier and I followed.
We parked in front of the nearly complete museum, an attractive white building built
around an inner court. It will display Daniel Cid's collection and there will be a separate
room for the special history of Yanga.
From the museum it was a short drive to the house of Cid, who lived in a cinderblock
house with his wife. Daniel Cid was eager to talk, and when he found out that I spoke
Spanish he moved his chair away from Xavier and carried the conversation directly to me.
When you're ninety, you get to be in charge. But, I think Señor Cid has always been in
charge.
