El Botanero

A couple of Fridays ago we went to a botanero with Fernando. At one of these establishments, you order your drinks -- in this case, beer, and with the beer come botanos or snacks. There are several styles of botaneros, or social clubs. There are the clubs for men only; where ladies with painted-on clothing serve your drinks and food, and whatever else you may be in the mood for. There are those that admit women on certain days or only during certain hours. Then there are the botaneros familia, or family style. These are the clubs that are "suitable" for families, with friendly middle-aged women as the waitresses, strolling mariachi musicians (40 pesos a song, or $3.75), a jukebox and a generally mild atmosphere. It was to the latter style that we went, La Colimilla. The is a botanero that Feernando and Chouy take friends and family frequently. This joint is located on the main road into Manzanillo, so trucks and traffic roar by constantly, but the spirit of the place is quite celebratory and everyone is there to have both a good time and some good food. This particular place is fish only, which included a pulpo cocktail (octopus), a big platter of ceviche, then two types of deep-fried whole fish, one of which was small snapper. For the salad, there was sliced cucumber and jicama. And plenty of beer.

As for the mariaches, there was a band of four elderly gents who played the standards only slightly out of tune. I asked for "El Niño Perdido" (the Lost Child), a gorgeous piece that features the trumpet off in the distance. Well, that was taxing their repertoire. After they finished their selections at our table, the violinist told Fernando that while he knew it, the trumpeter, alas, did not. And if and if the trumpeter doesn't know it, it doesn't get played.

Botaneros play a big part in Mexican social life. There is a very famous establishment in Manzanillio called El Bar Social, located on a corner of what used to be the downtown square by the sea. It has pigeon-specked windows, frosted glass, and a heavy curtain over the doorway that gives one the impression that this was a private enterprise. Inside, there are gentlemen of a certain class -- middle to upper -- sitting enjoying an afternoon of checkers, conversation, cigars and drink with their friends and acquaintances. They were usually dressed in black trousers and sparkling white guayabea shirts, the formal dress of Mexican men of a certain age, along with their Panama hats. It is all very civilized. I understand that in recent years it has been "cleaned up" and that women are now allowed in. Sic transit gloria.

In La Colimilla, however, it was all modern and au courant. Most o f the gents there were working men in jeans, T-shirts and baseball caps. Something has been lost.