Loco Gringa walks Dog in San Miguel de Allende, Pending Police Action

View from a restaurant: La Parroquia, the parish church.

So I had two years of Spanish in high school and two semesters in college. This does not in any way mean that I speak Spanish. I might as well have taken gibberish because I've noticed I'm fluent in that language. Before I left for Mexico, my thoughtful friend Barb passed along a phrase she felt might be useful to me: Lo siento. It means "I'm sorry." Yes, she chose well. I used it liberally. Lo siento for stepping off the curb too soon, Senor driver. Lo siento for calling you poop when I meant to say handsome. Lo siento the dog I'm walking lunges and bites at your behind, Senor motorcycle rider. Lo siento, Senora, for hugging you. I can't help it. I will leave your country immediately. Well, soon anyway.

I went to Mexico to visit my friend Hope who is an artist living in San Miguel de Allende. San Miguel is renowned for its community of artists. It has been a seat of creativity for 500 years with art schools, galleries, and an unsettling amount of ex-pats. You can't pitch a rock without hitting someone who speaks English. Lots of Canadians and Americans. So I had many opportunities to apologize in my own language. It's a beautiful city running down a mountain, its chief structure being La Parroquia you see at the top of this post.

One day, we helped teach these kids how to swim at the hot springs. You can see great shots of the kids learning to swim at Joan's photo gallery here.

On the way into Mexico, I met my first policia, a customs agent who sang me Happy Birthday (feliz compleanos) when he noticed the date on my passport. I arrived on my 29th birthday. Ironically the last policia I met was a Federale who searched me at a drug check point on the way to the airport on my way out of Mexico. Coming and going. Hope and I did all kinds of things in between meetings with the authorities but right now I'm thinking about the dogs.

This is Hope's roof and her dog Choco. If I could find a way for Choco and I to be together permanently, I would steal him. Even though Choco is the motorcycle rider biter. Lo Siento. Choco and I had many adventures on our walks. We enflamed most of the dog population in San Miguel. In Mexico, dogs like to hang out on

roofs and bark at passersby--dog passersby. You have to look closely to see the two dogs peering over the roof in the center of the photograph. Click on it to see a larger scale size.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about this perro. He's matted and dirty but ecstatic to guard his perch. During these walks, I became intrigued with the dogs of Mexico. The dogs are as much a part of life in San Miguel as they are in the States but it is not a doting relationship. The dogs have learned to adapt. Many live on the streets or on roofs like my buddy above.

Say hello to my little friend.

See, some dogs have a more pampered situation, but I got the feeling Chiquito here was only tolerated for the sake of the gringo population. The storekeeper snapped at the pup when he moved a tiny bit and this photo was taken after a few sharp words from his mistress.

There are dogs sleeping in the road, on sidewalks, in gravel parking lots. I saw one dog sleeping draped upside down across a stone fence. Twice. So I'm assuming that's a permanent arrangement. Below are the parking dogs. They sleep on gravel. They do not move when a car drives up. You drive around. That's Hope peeking around the fence in the background there.

And the nights of the full moon, omigosh, the dog howling that went on. Sitting on Hope's roof on top of a mountain looking at the moon and listening to those howls from different parts of town was like listening in on a private conversation. No lo siento.

The full moon from Hope's roof.

All photos by LoLaSuzanne