Nothing is more stirring than waking up in an old Mexican Town.
Vivid blue skies shine upon remnants of Colonial Times.
Structures, their lower halves painted blue, green or purple “Guarda Polvo” (an ancient custom for concealing dirt), are still seen here and there.
Church Bells ring as the elderly, faithful rush across El Socalo to Mass.
Early bird entrepreneurs, wearing a pile of hats (their entire inventory on their heads) search for a suitable spot.
Early “Bench Philosophers” take their customary seats, and begin to while the hours away.
Old dusty pickup trucks race up and down La Avenida – Trazvina Retis with their blaring radios. Tooting horns, shouting, and an occasional loud Baritone ring in the new day.
Barely missing an occasional scraggly dog, they disappear into side-streets to deliver their wares.
Ojinaga Is Waking Up!