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Looking out my Backdoor: Strange and sad and sweet, amid Mardi Gras

 


I’ve heard stories about this elderly couple who live in El Amparo, the abandoned mining town in the mountains, ever since I moved to Etzatlan.

Every Thursday this traditional couple, she in her long skirt, he in baggy white pants, both with wide sombreros, rode horses down the mountain road into town. They stayed the night with family and bought supplies at the Friday morning tianguis. Then in the afternoon, the couple would ride back to their mountain home, carrying their meager needs in saddlebags.

“How old are they?” I ask. Answers vary but all agree, somewhere in their ninet...



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