SAN ANTONIO

By Roger Esty

My wife's hometown,Jiquilpan,is small. The pueblo of San Antonio is even smaller. Oh,there are even smaller pueblitos,but San Antonio is just fine.I try to visit all of them. About 20 minutes outside of Jiquilpan just off the two lane asphalt winding road that goes up and down into the valleys is San Antonio.The green hills off to the horizon.The dairy and the school across the road. I'll pull the car over and park next to the little plaza.I can park anywhere. The church is in the back .Behind the church is a small laguna. The water is like glass.The church looks very big compared to the little houses around it. The doors are always open. The plaza is quiet.Only the birds talk to each other.

I get out and walk to any bench to rest my aching hip. The little store is on the other side of the plaza. I want a raspado(snowcone),but I want to rest my hip a little . After I'm ready, I walk to the little store. A dark skinned "morena" with long straight black hair and big eyes makes me a raspado. She shaves the ice into the paper cup. I ask for limon. Lime. She pumps the green syrup into the paper cup and hands it to me. Her wide smile reveals beautifull white teeth. Her smile accents her modesty.She lowers her eyes as she hands me the raspado. Que bonita.

I walk to the church. It's empty and cool inside. I sit in a pew and enjoy the raspado. After drinking the last of the syrup,I wait and gaze at the inside .The plain beautifull altar. The high adobe ceiling. It's very warm outside. I'll spend the rest of my time inside the church before going back to the car.

Walking back to the car, I don't feel the pain in my hip as much. I can still hear the birds talking to each other.

I think about San Antonio a lot lately.