Once a year St. Paul's Episcopal Church in San Miguel de Allende offers an inside view of San Miguel de Allende. It's the major fundraiser of the year for Feed the Hungry and most of the cost of the tour goes to support a school lunch program for impoverished Mexican children.
Our Features writer, Dick Davis, believes the word "tour" is anathema to the Independent Traveler. But with his daughter Nena and granddaughter Isabela, Dick took a risk, joined the tour and sent back this report.

A Tour With Hardly a Bus

The Day of the Dead Tour is St. Paul's major annual fundraiser. It's a 7-day 6-night tour, which felt more like a holiday, spending time with friends, and attending events. It cost $1200, but since we stayed with American ex-pats, in private homes, 65% of the cost went to Feed the Hungry, basically a school lunch program for impoverished Mexican children.

Cami Sands, a long-term resident of San Miguel and member of St. Paul's, organized it, and deserves a Michelin 5 star rating.

We were never herded or bused around. We were scattered around town, yet not far from the center, and our hosts, graciously offering us a key to their homes, made us feel like visiting family. Most events were within walking distance. I only recall two short bus rides during the week. The first bus took us to a fiesta at Rev. Harold Weiker's hacienda to see his religious art collection, enjoy a Mexican meal and a mariachi band dressed in white charro outfits with silver trim.

The second bus: On one busy day, we visited the Palo Colorado primary school, and the Centro Infantil (a head-start program where the kids entertained us with a Halloween song in English, with lyrics for the occasion: "The goblin takes a witch, the witch take a cat, the cat takes a bat, the bat takes a ghost, and the ghost goes ...Booooo!").

Then we drove to see the historic church at Atotonilco where Father Miguel Hidalgo took the banner of Guadalupe that was carried in the revolt for Independence. Lastly, we proceeded to a private folk art museum at Rancho Jaguar.

Day by Day, Event by Event:

We arrived Friday, settled in with our hosts and attended the Get Acquainted Dinner with all guests and hosts (in total we numbered over 50) held by Bill and Barbara Porter. The Porters have an elegant home, lovingly furnished with art and antiques. Plus birds and a marmoset, the world's smallest primate with tufted ears and a long tail. A trio played guitars and sang romantic songs. We ate dinner in the patio-garden by candlelight.

Days went quickly, but were never rushed. The first morning, Saturday, the sun came up with a golden brilliance. I was out in the crisp, fresh air and vacant streets with an opportunity for a vigorous hike. From my street, Recreo, I could see the morning sun silhouetting a cross at the top of the hill. I grabbed my camera and headed east. I huffed and puffed; with each step the street seemed to rise vertically like Taylor in San Francisco. At 6500 feet, you get winded quickly, but what a view of San Miguel in the sun's first light. Shadows cupped San Miguel while the gothic church, the centerpiece of the city, mirrored the sun's glory.

After breakfast with our respective host family, my daughter Nena and granddaughter Isabela, and I took a walking tour of San Miguel de Allende. We started at the Episcopal Church, which is just a block from Instituto Allende. The Instituto, a refurbished country estate once owned by the Count of Canal, is now an art, photography and language school founded by Stirling Dickenson and friends. Stirling's Instituto and the Bellas Artes School were the original magnets for the ex-pat community that is currently estimated at 11,000 full and part-time residents. You don't have to speak much Spanish to enjoy San Miguel de Allende.

The Instituto is known for courses in English and Spanish, but art is the major draw. The building is a colonial, arched, colonnaded, patioed beauty with a terrace restaurant and one of the best views of downtown San Miguel.

We visited La Parroquia, the magnificent Gothic styled church that I had seen in the morning sunlight. It was designed and constructed by Zeferino Gutierrez, an indigenous master builder, who was inspired by a Gothic church pictured in a postcard. Our timing was perfect. A just married bride and groom came out of the church flanked by friends, family and a mariachi band. A horse and carriage awaited the newlyweds, then carried them off like Cinderella and the Prince.

We crossed the main plaza, the Jardín, in front of La Parroquia, and stopped for lunch at Bellas Artes. We passed by beautiful shops on Calle Zacateras, visited the Mercado and bought Day of the Dead sugar skulls. San Miguel de Allende offers the best in folk-art, crafts, carvings, woodwork, fine art, textiles, leather, silver, and Talavera pottery. But we only took time to peek. We saved our time for real shopping later.

The original ex-pats, in late 40's and early 50's, were young, bohemian, and often students living on the GI Bill. But the ex-pats I met and saw on the streets, in the cafes and markets were of retirement age. They have basically created their own separate society with an active calendar. Scottsdale South, I called it. I was curious why the current, retirees, ex-pats choose San Miguel.

"The climate," was the instant answer. I got the feeling that I wasn't the first to ask, and the ex-pats had agreed on this two-word answer. Low real estate taxes and cost of living would sound unglamorous.

Some answered in three words, "Sunshine and culture."

Art, however, is the central activity. Dining and friendly conversation at Pegaso Cafe must also rank highly. The Instituto offers painting, photography and sculpture. One of our hosts, Barbara Porter, designs clothes and owns an elegant shop. When my daughter and I dropped into El Tecolote (The Owl) bookstore looking for books in Spanish, the more prominently displayed English books were: art, garden and cooking.

Cami Sands gave me a more complete answer. "We love the weather, scenery, the compact town, the style of "inward houses,' the arts, restaurants and the friendliness of the US people who live here." She also mentioned, "Our ability to "impact' good works via church, Rotary and other charities," and concluded, "We like the Mexican people, their celebrations, their love of children."

I spoke to Rosalia, a Mexican lady, who said that there once was some resentment, but that Mexicans are good hosts and the Americans have proved to be good guests. She said, "They have brought in capital, and they support the community with charitable works. Ex-pats have caused prices to rise, but have brought employment."

Saturday evening we attended a before-dinner fiesta: one musician and hors d'oeuvres, in a spectacular home of a working artist. Floor by floor we found ourselves admiring the antiques, the paintings, the gardens, a pool and on the fourth floor, a terrace with the artist's studio, and a mirador overlooking San Miguel de Allende.

Sunday we, that is Nena, Isabela and I, went to church twice, Catholic and Episcopal, Spanish and English.

After church, the Episcopal service, we got in a bus for a short ride to Rev. Harold Weicker's hacienda, which in itself is a religious art museum. Here we enjoyed the Hacienda Party with mariachis and San Miguel's famous carnival giant puppets.

Monday was our busy day. As I mentioned above, we toured the primary school, saw the lunch program in action, spoke with the teachers and the bright eyed, energetic children. The head-start kids entertained us and the church at Atotonilco surprised us.

The church is painted with Michelangelo virtuosity. Founded in 1740, indigenous artists painted the church's dramatic themed interior: the life, passion and resurrection of Christ.

From the village of Atotonilco we departed for a late lunch at Rancho Jaguar hosted by Robert and Jennifer Haas. Jennifer started collecting Mexican folk art in 1966 and the collection over the years grew and grew. Rancho Jaguar now devotes a private museum to this wonderful collection.

Tuesday, a day of leisure, we finally got around to looking around and into the shops and art galleries. Evening, we were guests at Chris and Al Kocourek's for a patio-garden dinner and Day of the Dead Altar ceremony. Many of us had brought pictures of a departed friend or family member who we wished to honor, and placed it on the ofrenda (offering) altar among the marigold flowers.

Marigolds, with their heady fragrance, copal (incense) and candles are said to guide souls back to this once a year reunion with the living. To me, the altar honored the dead, and celebrated life, and the life to come, by being aware and not afraid of the transition named "Death." In anticipation of a visiting soul, altars are decorated with the loved one's favorite food, drink, typically tequila, cigarettes, mementos and always pan de muerto (a special round load of bread).

Maria Teresa, a Tarahumara shaman, led the ritual and explained Catholic-Indian tradition. The Four Elements were represented: Earth, fruits and vegetables, Air, tissue paper (papel picada), Fire, candles, and Water.

Flowers signified eternal life with God. Candles lit the way for the soul's return. Water, symbol of purity, also quenched the soul's thirst. Copal cleansed the area from bad spirits. Pan de muerto represented the bodies of the departed.

Wednesday we were free until 2 pm when we met in St. Paul's Hall for a lecture by Fred Stresen-Reuter, an historian, who gave us a very detail and informative lecture using Powerpoint on the similarities of Catholicism and Aztec beliefs and how they melded in ceremony.

After Fred's presentation, we walked to the Panteon, San Miguel's cemetery, which was festooned with a field of flowers. Graves were decorated with golden marigolds, as our altar had been the previous evening. It was a time of joy and sadness.

Later that evening we gathered for our Farewell Dinner at the Peterson's. Our final evening was a gala with troubadours in costume, called a tuna in Spanish. It was held outdoors in the patio-garden and under the veranda.

Thursday, a final breakfast with our host family, then a courtesy pick-up and return flight home.

That is a pick-up for everyone except the guy who drove the Grand Marquis; he got behind the wheel and headed north.

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