The Guadalajara Reporter
Guadalajara's Largest English Newspaper
While Santa Claus may have made his first chimney descent in the 1820s in Manhattan, this never-fading Christmas Superstar has spent centuries putting his legendary act together.
Autumn is fiesta time in Mexico.
“Here in Mexico, there is a great facility in dying”
—Xavier Villaurrutia
The stiff-backed mountains surrounding Guadalajara have long ago turned southern California tan — since December the humpback flanks have been shedding green, turning brown.
March is a time when trees full of lavender and blue explode along many avenues of Guadalajara and stain certain rural roadsides like the magical blood of ancient Nahua gods.
As the 1960s came to an end, a woman who had built a fast-paced New York advertising career (Helen Rubenstein’s advertising manager, vice-president of a mid-sized advertising agency, copy group head for Baten Barton Durstine and Osborn), who had reared a family, and seen her husband pass away, retired and drove to Guadalajara.
On an August afternoon in 1963 Astfulo (“Tulfo”) Diaz gave me a horse racing tip. In pueblos lining Lake Chapala, horse racing of both the most formal competitions, as well as the most casual pickup races were grandly popular. Spontaneously, without preparation, they could take place, midweek or on weekends.
