The basilica was ready for a wedding and as we ate lunch a little cafe on the square I hoped the wedding party might pass by. I was caught off-guard when two petite flower girls emerged from inside the restaurant and were guided to a different church down the hill.
Soon it became clear that the more prestigious wedding of the day was not at the basilica but at the yellow church (whose name I never learned). Elegantly clad guests arrived by taxi or struggled to find a parking space. A few paused for refreshments along the way. Another indication of the importance of this event was the unsettling presence of trucks of armed soldiers stationed outside. A shopkeeper told us it was rumoured that the governor of Jalisco state was attending. There had been a violent act by drug cartel members in Guadalajara the day before; hence, the high security. I mention this episode due to its rarity, contrary to the media image of Mexico as a place where one is constantly confronted by the threat of violence. We didn't want to be obvious in photographing the soldiers (is there a protocol?), so Jim took a picture of me with the military pickup at left.
At the Plaza Grande, another wedding party was taking photos.
Across the plaza, the traditional Danza de Viejitos, Dance of the Old Men. The group included individuals ranging in age from pre-schoolers to genuine old guys.
Yet another wedding party (all this was just one day) came from another ancient church as we moved through town.
This was a day of near misses. Four weddings and not a single good picture. I kept waiting for the bride to appear and join the woman in a deep turquoise gown, whom I thought must be the bridesmaid. Wrong! It was the bride herself and she eventually folded her full skirts into the front seat of a sub-compact car. Her attendants and other guests piled into the back of a pickup whose colour was perfectly coordinated with the bridal gown.
The only shot I like of this wedding is the groom and company in a black pickup that matched their tuxedos.
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