Sounds like a the kind of town where everyone’s named Bubba and Slim and Mexicans just ain’t welcome unless they work in the fields or dance like Felina at the local watering hole.
But like the rest of the border here in West Texas, just about everyone is Mexican and even the few non-Mexicana around here speak Spanish.
Last weekend I went to the Festival San Lorenzo in Clint, something the local folk have been celebrating for 97 years.
(Everyhting required tickets, drinks, rides. Here a clearly hardworking man buys tickets for his daughter or granddaughter. He carries a candle with him, of a saint.)
Of course, I brought my camera.
Everything was perfect, the beer cold, the food delicious, and of course, at festivals around here, the Gorditas were the best.
What stuck me most were the people. How friendly they were. No one whom I asked to take their picture said, no, and some of them wanted to pose for me.
"Not so Lil' Homies"
I’m doing something different this entry. I’m naming the photos. I don’t know why I’m doing it (although I know why I’m doing it), and I don’t know if I’ll ever do it again.
(These kids are beautiful. They remind me of my sister and cousin when they were little. And look how happy there are. In fact, everyone in this picture is happy. Click on the image to make it bigger, and you'll see that even the guys you can see through the screen behind the booth are happy.)
I don’t know, maybe naming the photos is kind of crony, like naming a memo.
"King of the Taco Trucks"
I don’t think real photographers name their images.
This one below is simply called "Family." The man on the right was very nice to me and he asked me to take a picture of his family.
"Jesus et al"
(This woman in the wheelchair was so sweet. You can tell by looking at them what a nice couple they are.)
(I love this lady. She kept wanting to pose, always smiling. She worked a game booth with little fishing poles, where kids fish for prizes, like a little pig made of paper mache)
"Fish Lady 2"