The situation they are facing, say Klix Kaltenmark and Xabier Pagazaurtundúa, is all too common in attractive parts of Guadalajara.

The first time I encountered José Álvarez Franco, better known as Padre Patillas, or “Father Sideburns,” was during a baptismal service in his church in Tateposco when he referred to me as a “gringo” during the mass, prompting laughter throughout the congregation.

The small gratitude celebration at the children’s home La Villa Infantil de Nuestra Señora Guadalupe y San José on Friday, May 23 marked the culmination of a project that represents years of preparation and hours of labor. The cake that was served at lunch said it all, “Gracias al Sol.”

When representatives of the Anglican faith from Western Mexico gathered in February in Hermosillo, they heard reports from congregations that range from cathedrals with many members to congregations that serve English speakers in Mexico to the tiny church of La Santa Cruz in Téroque Viejo, Sinaloa, where, as one delegate put it, young clergyman Luis Antonio Olivetto was sent to “this small and poor town, with nothing except his faith … to the point that he had to sleep on the church’s pews.” 

Even as we become aware of the shopping mecca that is Zapotlanejo, we are confronted with the colonial history of this lovely town on the outskirts of Guadalajara.  Immediately after passing the inevitable Pemex station and the shopping malls that line Highway 80, we can easily spot the graceful colonial era arches that outline the entrance into the city proper.

As a young man, he believed his bad luck with women and money was “congenital and irremediable.”