When Aztec Dancers Drum Beneath Your Window

Last weekend the city celebrated San Antonio/Saint Anthony (whose history and importance is too hazy for me to expound upon with any legitimacy in this post). In addition to selling sweet corn with mayonnaise and crispy enchiladas in the plaza below, the people in Guanajuato danced--they twirled, they teased, they weaved and shimmied. Most impressive of all were the Aztec dancers who set up camp right beneath my window. They were a little bit punk rock (is it possible they surpassed Portland barristas for sheer number of piercings and tats?) and a little bit old school indigenous.

And did I mention the feathers? Oh the feathers.