The Guachimontones Interactive Center of Interpretation is buzzing with activity these days as archaeologists, museographers, artists, designers and a new corps of “Dynamic Trail Interpreters” gear up for the museum’s imminent Grand Opening.

It had been expected that the impressive building, designed by architect Francisco Perez Arellano, would open its doors a year ago upon completion of the stunning mural by artist Jorge Monroy which now graces its 30-meter long, curving inner wall. However, expected funds “failed to materialize,” according to administrator Leticia Aguirre.

At the same time, a project to widen the two-lane highway connecting Tala to Teuchitlán was mysteriously halted, meaning some unlucky tourists will still be forced to creep along the 13-kilometer stretch while stuck behind slow moving trucks piled high with sugar cane bound for Tala’s huge ingenio (sugar refinery).

Every year Guadalajara naturalist Jesús Moreno produces a desktop calendar/agenda featuring first-class photographs of Mexico’s flora and fauna. Curious to learn about this year’s publication, I caught up with him at his home on the northern edge of the Primavera Forest.

The old mining town of Mineral de Pozos, located in the state of Guanajuato, is a five-and-a-half hour drive from Guadalajara but works well as a delightful day trip from nearby, ever-charming, San Miguel de Allende.

Days of commemoration, remembrance, glorification — and questioning.

Most foreigners living in Mexico have been asked the following question by one of the local people: “Do you have a little time to help me practice my English conversation?”

Many years ago, I taught English in Querétaro, which was then so small you could easily reach every part of it on foot. The first time I crossed the town early in the morning it was so quiet I expected to see nothing but empty streets. To my surprise, I found neither the streets nor the sidewalks empty. It was, in fact, downright dangerous to walk around at that hour, because, without warning, gallons of water (clean, fortunately) might come sailing out of any doorway at any time. This was my first introduction to a curious and charming Mexican custom which, for lack of a better name, I will call the Spotless Sidewalk Syndrome.