The Sonajero & Chayacate dancers of Tuxpan's Candelaria Fiesta

Sonajero dancers enter the atrium of Tuxpan's church. Each colonia  (neighborhood) fields its own troupe of dancers. The group above was one of many approaching from all parts of town as the Fiesta de Candelaria got under way. Last February 2, Carole and I brought two car-loads of friends to witness this extraordinary event. We first came to this fiesta in 2012 and the experience was stunning. When I described the fiesta to some friends last winter, they were eager to attend. Tuxpan's event combines multiple traditions, with roots dating back to the colonial and even pre-hispanic periods. The townspeople are wonderfully friendly and hospitable, particularly to foreign visitors. Tuxpan is a two-hour drive south of Lake Chapala, off Cuota #54, the toll road that leads from Guadalajara to Colima. For a Google map, click here.

Overview

Dancers packed the atrium in front of the Iglesia de San Juan Bautista. This broad, open plaza has a stand-alone cross in its middle (visible on the right). The Franciscans built the original church in 1536 and erected the cross not long after. While the church was rebuilt in later centuries, the original eight-sided cross remains and is the oldest colonial monument in Jalisco. The town's name comes from the Nahuatl language of the Aztecs and means "Place of the Rabbits."

These Tourist Police were all smiles when I asked to take their photo. Their attitude was typical of the local folks we met. Everywhere, people smiled at us and those that spoke English (a surprising number) asked if we'd like them to explain anything about the fiesta. While some of Mexico's fiestas are thronged with foreigners, Tuxpan's is different. Because it is somewhat off the beaten tourist track, almost all the spectators are from the local area. A significant portion of Tuxpan's population participates in one or another of the dance troupes.

Detail from a large mural at the Centro Cultural. There are multiple panels showing Tuxpan's history from pre-hispanic times to modernity. This one highlights the variety of dancers. We visited the Centro Cultural while waiting for the show to begin. The attached museum was closed and, seeking information about its hours, I stuck my head in an open door. A woman inside immediately invited us to sample some specially prepared pre-hispanic food. In the blink of an eye, we became honored guests at a banquet that included officials from Mexico City. While we tasted the various delicious dishes, a local poet recited his work and the officials gave speeches (all in Spanish, of course). The din of the fiesta was growing, so we thanked our hosts and joined the festivities outside. Mexico's famous hospitality is no myth.

People carrying gaily dressed dolls began to gather in front of the church. The dolls represent one of the fiesta's multiple threads of historical tradition. While the doll on the right is attired as a Sonajero dancer, most of the others were dressed like the one on the left. People of all ages and both sexes carried dolls--even teenage boys! According to the Bible, Jesus was presented by his parents at the Jewish Temple 40 days after his birth. Jewish religious law in the 1st Century AD forbade a woman to go to the temple for 40 days after giving birth because she was "unclean". February 2 occurs 40 days after December 25 and the occasion has come to be celebrated as Candelaria or Candlemass.


Sonajeros

The Sonajeros represent a tradition with deep pre-hispanic roots. The dancers perform in massed ranks, to the rhythm of the sonajeros (rattles) they each carry. The name can be applied either to the rattle or the dancer. When I first saw these dancers perform, I was reminded of the close-order drill that I learned during my military service. In fact, this is called the Dance of the Warriors and honors Xipe Tótec, the Aztec god who invented war. The rattle closely resembles the macuahuitl, a fearsome hand weapon the Aztec soldiers carried into battle. In ancient times, these were edged with razor-sharp obsidian. Today, instead of obsidian, a sonajero contains three sets of metal disks set in notches along the length of the instrument, with a handgrip at one end. When the instrument is shaken, the disks clash together, sounding somewhat like a tambourine. Hundreds of sonajeros, shaken in unison, create a rhythmic din.

The dancers wear vests of multi-colored ribbons. The vests mimic the cotton armor worn by the Aztec warriors. It provided some protection from arrows and other pre-hispanic weapons but was of little help against Spanish steel. Notice that these dancers have removed their sombreros and are holding them close to their sides. They did this just before entering the atrium, apparently a gesture of respect toward the church.

Women and girls danced as Sonajeros too. In fact, there didn't seem to be any gender or age bar to participation. It was a clear and sunny day in early February and the dancers' costumes covered them from head to toe. By noon, it had become pretty warm and I marveled at their stamina as they danced and twirled.

Although only four or five years old, this niña was a full participant. Even on a break, she continued to dance. There were lots of kids among the dancers, as well as some elderly folks. Participation is clearly a family affair.


Chayacates

Wearing antlers and carved wooden masks, the Chayacates now arrived. All their masks were in "whiteface" with Spanish-style beards and mustaches. The name for these dancers comes from the Nahuatl word chayácatl, which means "man wearing a mask".

An energetic pair of Chayacates led the troupe from the Colonia San Fabian. Each cuadrillo (troupe) carried a banner with the name of their colonia. Like the Sonajeros, all the Chayacates carried rattles which they shook in unison. The Chayacate rattles are made from hollow gourds filled with seeds.

Also like the Sonajeros, there are kids in the Chayacate cuadrillos. The origin of the Chayacate tradition harks back to a great epidemic in 1774. The local priest called upon everyone to pray to San Sebastian, the patron saint of people afflicted with plagues. The epidemic soon ended and the dance was inaugurated to thank the saint for his intervention. Statues of San Sebastian are carried by the faithful in the parade through town that begins when all the cuadrillos are assembled.

A cuadrillo of "blonde" Chayacates approaches the atrium. They are followed by another troupe with red "hair". The Spanish features, and the long blonde or red hair, hark back to another colonial tradition. Since disrespect toward their Spanish overlords could be dangerous, indigenous people sometimes used masks and dances to subtly mock their oppressors.

Güe Gües

A Güe Güe carrying a sword pauses for a breather. I have encountered these figures at indigenous dances all over Mexico, but I have yet to find a translation for the name. They always wear horrific monster masks and often carry a weapon like a wooden sword or a long whip. Güe Gües lead the processions or hover about the edges of the action. Their purpose is to frighten away evil spirits, as well as to entertain the crowd with their antics.

A Güe Güe leads a group of Sonajeros through the streets. Notice the red imitation blood on his sword. While most Güe Gües favor modern masks made of rubber, this one wears a more traditional version made from carved wood with vivid paint.

Kids, especially the young boys, seemed to favor the role. This group immediately began to cavort when they spotted my camera. Unlike the Sonajeros and Chayacates, the Güe Gües are not expected to keep in step with the dancers they accompany. This gives them considerable freedom of action and they take full advantage.

A handsome couple. A fanged devil and his skull-faced companion were eager to pose for me. It would be hard to find a finer pair of evil-spirit chasers.

Moros

A bare-chested Moor scans the area, his bow and arrow at the ready. Los Moros (the Moors) represent still another tradition. The Dance of the Moors and the Spaniards harks back to the 700-year struggle by Christian Spaniards to expel the Moors, who had invaded and seized Spain in 711 AD. The final victory came when the Moorish city of Granada fell in 1492. The Dance of the Moors and Spaniards commemorates this struggle and final victory.

A young Moor pranced about the edge of the crowd. Los Moros always wear hats with crowns of feathers and generally carry bows and arrows. My photo caught him in the act of pelting his friend with a piece of candy.

The littlest Moor. He is dressed in full Moorish regalia, including a bow, with peacock feathers that are nearly as long as he is tall.

Other dancers

The América cuadrillo. These dancers are the key performers at the fiesta to honor the Virgin of Guadalupe on December 12. However, it seems that no one wanted to miss out on Candelaria. 

This fellow bore a striking resemblance to Jesus. It wasn't clear to me whether that was his role. However, his costume didn't resemble that of any of the other dancers and he wasn't a Güe Güe. The pretty señorita by his side appears to be his girlfriend.

A violinist who accompanied a Chayacate cuadrillo. This jaunty fellow could have just stepped out of some bizarre orchestra pit.

A clown with a rather sinister smile. Not the sort of jester I'd want to meet in a dark alley. He looks a bit like the Joker in the Batman movies. I assumed he was one of the Güe Gües but, again, who knows? Mexican fiestas often have a surreal quality that defies explanation.

This completes my posting on Tuxpan's Candelaria fiesta. I hope you enjoyed it. If so, please leave any comments or questions in the Comments section below, or email them to me directly. If you leave a question in the Comments section PLEASE leave your email address so I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim

The Masked Dancers of Tuxpan's Candelaria Fiesta

Chayacate dancers in front of Tuxpan's main church. For several years, Carole and I had been trying to get to Tuxpan's famed Candelaria Fiesta. The last time we tried, a deluge of rain nixed our plans.  I began to wonder whether we'd ever get to participate in this wildly colorful blend of Catholicism and indigenous religion. This year, el Dia de la Virgen de Candelaria (February 2) dawned bright and sunny. From our home in Ajijic on Lake Chapala's North Shore, Tuxpan is only a 2-hour (one way) drive. Two carloads of us set off on this easy day-trip. The small, attractive town of 33,000 is worth a visit even without the fiesta. We took Highway 54 down the long valley that stretches south from Guadalajara to Colima. The almost arrow-straight road passes some large, shallow lakes with high mountains rising dramatically on either side. Tuxpan is situated about 16 kilometers (10 mi.) south of Ciudad Guzman. There is only one turnoff to Tuxpan after Ciudad Guzman on this long straight stretch. If you reach the place where the road begins to wind through the canyon country, you have gone too far. Tuxpan is about 4.8 kilometers (3 mi.) east of Highway 54. At the intersection with the main street leading down into town you will find a large statue of a costumed indigenous dancer. A right turn here takes you almost directly to the church plaza. When you get to a cross-street called Juarez, the plaza is only about 1 block to your left. For a Google map showing the area, click here.


The meaning of Candelaria

Mid-day sun frames a steeple of Tuxpan's church. The brilliant sunshine and deep blue skies promised a successful fiesta, although I wondered if the high contrast would give my photos a "washed out" look. It was tricky, but the miracle of digital photography allows adjustments that cover a multitude of sins. Also it helps if you take more than 2000 photos, as I did. Even a blind pig can find an acorn if he roots around long enough. Prior to setting off, I had done a bit of research about Tuxpan and its Candelaria celebration. For much of this, I am indebted to Judy King who edits the "Mexico Insights, Living at Lake Chapala" website (see "Other sites to visit" on the right column of this page). The choice of February 2 for the fiesta grows out of the biblical Jewish tradition that a woman is considered "unclean" for 40 days after she gives birth. After that time, a new mother could present her baby at the Temple. Since the traditional date of Jesus' birth is December 25, the 40 days would expire February 2. In 540 AD, early Christians began to celebrate this as a special day.

All around us, women moved toward the church carrying beautifully dressed dolls. Many of the dolls wore elaborate costumes like the one we found above, just outside the church's main door. The little figures represent the Baby Jesus or el Niño Dios (the Child God). Some of the dolls were female, but this didn't seem to matter and they were all taken into the church to be blessed during the mass. We were even more fascinated by this old tradition when we learned that prehispanic people believed in a child god called Pilzintecuhtli. The Spanish were always alert for ways to coopt indigenous people into Catholicism, so they simply incorporated Pilzintechutli into the Candelaria tradition. The little figures play a role throughout the Christmas season. They occupy the manger in household nativity scenes before getting blessed at the church on Candelaria. Niños Dioses are often handed down from generation to generation and some are quite old.

View from the church door toward the plaza and Sierra del Tigre. In the foreground, Carole (left) chats with Jerry and Hal, two Americans who recently came to live full-time in Mexico. I invited them along because of their interest in Mexico's indigenous cultures. Additionally, Jerry is an accomplished photographer. Above, they are silhouetted against the broad plaza on which much of the dancing will later take place. In the middle of the plaza stands a tall, stone cross from Jalisco's earliest days. Behind the cross, the mountains of the Sierra del Tigre rise. Archaeologists believe that the area around Tuxpan was initially settled by the Toltecs in 642 AD. The town lies near a pre-hispanic trade route (now Highway 110) that passes through these southern Jalisco mountains, connecting Michoacan with Colima. This strategic route became the scene of many conflicts over the centuries. At one point in the late 15th Century, the Tarascan Empire (modern Michoacan State) sent an army through here in an attempt to seize the valuable salt beds along the edges of the shallow lakes we passed on the way down. The Teco Kingdom of nearby Colima resisted fiercely in what became known as the Guerra de Salitre (Salt War). The Tecos managed to oust the Tarascans after a long struggle which lasted until only a few years before the Spanish arrived. After his victory over the Aztecs in 1521, Hernán Cortés sent out armed parties in every direction to explore his new domain. Francisco Cortés, Hernán's nephew, led the conquistadors who passed through the Tuxpan area in 1529. In 1536, Franciscan friars founded the village of Tuxpan which, in the native Nahuatl language, means "place where the rabbits live." Armies passed and battles were fought along the Sierra del Tigre route during the War of Independence (1810-21), the French invasion and occupation (1862-67), and the Revolution (1910-20).

At the base of the plaza's stone cross I discovered this carved skull and bone. I was mystified by the ominous carving and could find no explanation for it. The octagonal cross itself is reputed to be the oldest colonial monument in Jalisco State. Candelaria, sometimes known as Candlemas, also has pre-Christian roots from the Old World. The reference to candles relates to a pagan festival celebrating the mid-point of the winter season. Since February 2 is normally cold and gloomy in Europe, people celebrated by lighting up their homes with candles. The Church cleverly turned this pagan celebration to its own advantage by linking it to the legend of Simon, a holy man at the Temple when Mary first brought in her new baby. Simon prophesied that the newborn would "bring a light to all the nations." The Church declared to Europe's pagans that candles represented this light, and began holding a special service to bless them on February 2. This special Mass was called Candlemas or Candelaria.


The Prelude

Local craftsman fashions a mask. Mexico has a tradition of mask making that stretches back thousands of years. All through the fiesta dances, this craftsman worked quietly and steadily on his creation. Attached to the face of the clay mask is an impressive rack of antlers. While these appear to be clay, I saw many dancers wearing the real thing. Local residents take great pains in assembling their costumes and practicing their dance routines. I was pleased that the whole affair seemed to be by, for, and about the local people. Even including our party, there were only a handful of tourists in evidence, foreign or Mexican. Many of the indigenous dances I have witnessed around Mexico seem to have evolved into a show aimed at entertaining tourists. While they are interesting and colorful, these dances sometimes feel a bit detached from their original purpose and meaning. Not so at Tuxpan, at least up to this point. Each of Tuxpan's several barrios (neighborhoods) hosts its own troupe, made up of local people of all ages. The various troupes create colorful costumes, unique to that neighborhood.

A dancer adjusts his peacock-feather head dress. This dancer wears a red tunic that reaches his knees, and red stockings. Long bangs of artificial hair extend down from the front part of his head dress, obscuring his face. Peacocks were unknown in pre-hispanic Mexico, so ancient dancers would have used feathers from the tail of the quetzal bird. By about 10:30 AM, dance troupes had begun assembling in their neighborhoods. Above, a scattering of dancers had arrived at the church's plaza and were adjusting their costumes. The troupes arrived one group at a time and danced their way into the plaza, a process lasting a couple of hours.

Taking in the view. The dancer with the bangs finally lifted them up for a a better view of the scene. Tuxpan has earned the nickname "pueblo of the eternal fiesta" because of the 50 (count 'em, 50!) fiestas held here every year. Mexicans are seriously into partying, but these people take it to a whole new level. Everyone was cheerful and upbeat and many people smiled at us as we wandered about, gawking and taking photos.

The kids couldn't resist my camera. As soon as they saw me shooting, they began waving and engaging in other antics. I finally called a group together and got them settled down enough to take their photo, making them the envy of their friends in the area. Everywhere we turned, we were greeted with warm hospitality. Quite a number of people spoke at least some English and many asked if they could explain what the fiesta was about, or otherwise assist us. We were amused to find that some had lived in the US, often quite near our former homes in Los Angeles and Oregon. We have experienced the same open friendliness in many of Mexico's small towns and rural areas. Previous to our arrival in Mexico, we had lived in several big cities in the US and this left us a legacy of what Carole likes to call "psychic body armor". This involves an automatic suspicion toward friendly strangers, and the immediate thought of "what do they want?" It is an unfortunate aspect of modern life, based on a real need to watch one's back in urban areas. In all my encounters with Mexico's rural people, I have always been greeted with a warmth and concern for my well-being that always felt genuine. The people of Tuxpan were no exception to this. They are proud of their town's traditions and eager that others should understand them.


Los Sonajeros, the dance of the warriors

A Güegüe leads los Sonajeros as they march into the plaza. The horned monster with the foaming mouth is called a Güegüe (pronounced gway-gway). These are beings who drive away evil spirits and are usually armed with a whip for that purpose. Behind the Güegüe, massed Sonajeros march, each holding a long wooden rattle that sounds like a tamboreen. There are two kinds of dancers in the Candelaria event, los Sonajeros and los Chayacates. The Sonajeros'  (rattle dancers) tradition is by far the oldest, harking back to the prehispanic warriors who used to march into battle carrying a fearsome weapon called a macuahuitl (hungry wood). These were wooden swords with razor-sharp obsidian blades fitted along the side. The rattles the Sonajeros carry look quite similar to macuahuitls both in size and shape. Their costume consists of white cotton shirts and pants, a red belt, a colorful scarf, and an extraordinary vest made of rows of looped, multi-colored ribbons. The vest may represent the quilted armor the prehispanic soldiers wore. Most of the Sonajeros also wore a white cowboy hat that probably came into fashion in the 20th Century.

Los Sonajeros whirled in twisting lines as they filled the plaza with color and sound. They were accompanied by a flute called a carrizo and a deer-hide drum. Their dance resembles a cross between country line dancing and military close-order drill. It requires great skill and obviously a lot of practice. Known as the Dance of the Warriors, it is performed in honor of Xipetotec, the god whom the Aztecs believed invented war. He was a life-death-and-rebirth deity, and therefore was connected to agriculture, vegetation, the seasons, disease, and--somewhat oddly--silver and goldsmiths. He is often depicted in the ancient codices carrying a bloody weapon and wearing a flayed human skin. As part of the ceremonies held to worship Xipetotec, captives were sacrificed by cutting their hearts out. Their skin was then removed, or flayed, and worn by priests or warriors. The person emerging from the dead, rotting skin represented life being reborn from death. Ancient life was not for the squeamish or faint of heart.

A Young Sonajero crouches and brandishes his noisemaker like an ancient macuahuitl. The wooden device is about 1 meter (3 ft.) long and contains from one to three slots along its length. In each slot are several thin, metal disks. The device has a handle on each end with which it can be held or shaken. When shaken, the clashing metal disks make a sound similar to a tamboreen. Masses of Sonajeros rhythmically shaking the instruments create an impressive din.

A Sonajera shows off her rattle. People of all ages and both sexes participated in the dances. When I asked to take her photo, this young Sonajera rewarded me with lovely smile. Her rattle is appropriate to her size, and contains only a single slot for the clashing disks. As with most of the Sonajeros, her pants are beautifully embroidered around the ankles and she wears sandals on her feet. The large statue at the edge of town that you pass when entering Tuxpan shows a dancing Sonajero.

Los Chayacates, the horned dancers

A Chayacate with a full rack of horns towers over the crowd. Cayacates have a somewhat more recent pedigree than Sonajeros. I found two completely different explanations for the Chayacate dance and I can't verify which is true, so I'll give both. Although each neighborhood that fields a Chayacate troupe produces its own unique costume, there are some similar features among troupes. One of these is a white-faced mask with a dark beard. Since indigenous people at the time of the Conquest were dark skinned and had little or no facial hair, the masks appear to represent Spanish faces. According to one account, the Chayacate dance was a way that indigenous people could safely ridicule their oppressors. The horns represent evil, and the whips some dancers carry represent the cruelty of the Spaniards. At the same time, the agility and grace of the dancers themselves represents the ancient indigenous warriors.

The Chayacates produced their own music with their own kind of instruments. Most of them carried a rattle called a cirian made from a gourd filled with seeds and attached to a short wooden handle. In addition, many troupes were accompanied by a violinist. The violin is an instrument introduced by the Spanish, and was unknown in Mesoamerica prior to the Conquest. The alternate version of the Chayacate dance story begins in 1774. At that time a virulent plague of smallpox devastated Tuxpan and the surrounding communities. The people appealed to San Sebastian for deliverance, since he is the patron saint of health. The appeal apparently succeeded, according to this version of the story, because the grateful people organized the Chayacate dance to honor him for his help.

Some Chayacates wore long blonde "hair" with their Spanish-featured masks and antlers. The Nahuatl word Chayácatl means "man wearing a mask."  It was a warm day and I imagine that the vigorous dance activity raised quite a sweat under all those clothes and heavy masks. Some dancers even wore gloves.

A young boy peeks from under his mask as the festivities gain momentum. Apparently, in the early days, all the Chayacates were children. If one believes the first version of the story, this may have been to protect the dancers from retribution should the Spaniards figure out they were being ridiculed. As the dance became a long-standing tradition, grown men and women began to participate as dancers.

A Chayacate with hair made of maguey fibres. This one also sports a truly impressive set of antlers. Which version of Tuxpan's story is true? I can't say for sure, but I tend to favor the ridicule version. It is not uncommon for people to find ways to make fun of their oppressors, if they can do it covertly. Certainly any overt show of disrespect would have resulted in savage Spanish reprisals. Also, there exists another famous indigenous Mexican dance called the "Dance of the Old Men." That dance mocks the feebleness of Spaniards who did no work because of the ready availability of indigenous slave labor. In the Dance of the Old Men, the performers also wear white faced masks and blonde wigs. The epidemic version may have been a clever story created to cover the real intent.

Dancers came in all sizes. By early afternoon, the crowd was packed around the dance area and performers ranging from niños to abuelos (kids to grandparents) filled the air with the sound of their rattles, vioins, flutes, and tamboreen sticks. By now, all the troupes had arrived and the dancing was building to a frenzy.

Chayacates began to file into the church to be blessed. The long blonde hair worn by these dancers was made from maguey fibres. The maguey plant is a relative of the agave from which tequila is made. Maguey fibre was used by ancient indigenous people for a variety of purposes including ropes and sandals. Also, apparently, they used it to create mocking wigs.


The great parade

A huge parade began, with many of the audience participating. After all the dance troupes had arrived, performed, and been blessed, everyone prepared for the big parade through town. Quite a number of statues and other sacred objects were brought out to be carried by the faithful. Above, several versions of the Virgin Mary are carried on palanquins. Each statue is dressed in a different color and at least one is adorned with bouquets of flowers. To get a better view, I had climbed up on the wall surrounding the octagonal stone cross in the middle of the plaza. While I was able to shoot over the heads of most of the participants, it was a fairly wobbly position. I had some concern about providing unintended free entertainment to the crowd by tumbling over backwards.

San Sebastian was martyred by being shot full of arrows. Sebastian was a very early Christian martyr, who died in 268 AD during the reign of Roman Emperor Diocletian. He had been a captain in the Praetorian Guard, the emperor's elite troops. Somehow he became a Christian and promptly began converting prominent Romans, at least one of whom, according to legend, was cured of muteness as a result. The emperor got wind of this treachery and ordered Sebastian to be tied to a stake (or possibly a tree) and shot with arrows. The widow of one of his martyred convertees went to retrieve Sebastian's body and discovered he wasn't dead. She nursed him back to health, after which he is said to have cured a blind girl in the household. Then, apparently determined to have a successful martyrdom, he stood up during a procession while Diocletian passed by and denounced the emperor publicly. His comments were not well received. Diocletian made sure of the job this time by having him beaten to death and his body thrown into a privy. San Sebastian is thus famed for being the only saint to have been martyred twice. The people of Tuxpan probably appealed to San Sebastian in 1774 (if that version is true) because he was said to be a defense against the plague. In the Dark Ages, a plague ravaged the barbarian (but partially Christianized) Lombards. The story goes that they erected an altar in honor of San Sebastian and brought the plague to a halt. According the Tuxpan story, he was successful there too, and now is paraded through the streets during every Candelaria fiesta.

A big smile from a little girl. She was my seat mate on the wall by the cross and was very curious about my photography. I asked her for a photo and she obliged, nearly blinding me with her radiant smile. Kids are great! At the end of the big parade, all the troupes and their supporting neighbors returned to their barrios for food, drink, and more partying. While we understood that everyone would be welcome to visit any and all of these parties (and food and drink would be free to all), the day was getting on and we had a long drive back. Before we left, however, I noted that the Hotel Plaza Juarez is right down the street from the church plaza. It appears to be an excellent and quite inexpensive place to stay, should we decide on an overnight visit in the future.

This completes my posting on the masked dancers of Tuxpan. I encourage you to visit during Candelaria, or at any other time if you are in the area. Who knows how much longer this wonderful fiesta will remain unspoiled by the temptations of the tourist dollar. If you would like to leave a comment, please do so in the Comments section below. In addition, if you would like to forward a link to my blog to friends or relatives, help yourself. The more the merrier!

If you leave a question in the Comments section, PLEASE leave your email so that I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim