On Sunday the town of Quiroga comes to life with a big market, and even bigger display of carnitas. Lining the road are the men who prepare the meat, each in their own special way, all of the delicious. They stand there cutting and slapping piles of meat on paper for buyers while keeping a keen eye for anyone who looks hungry, who they then hand a big chunk over to in order to try and score the business. It’s a fun place, vibrant, happy, and tasty.

Horchata only comes in one size in Mexico—extra giant. The kids split one of those and it is still at least double what they should have.

I swear she really wanted her face painted.

Over the course of an hour I never once saw these two ladies stop eating and laughing. They’d finish what they had, toddle off for something else, and eat some more. I wonder how many years they’ve been doing this together on Sundays. I should have asked.

The lady tried to convince Lowe to get Spider-Man. I suspect that’s what most kids get, and she has the process down. But Lowe was having none of it. He wanted Místico, the famous Mexican luchador.

Sunday afternoon in Patzcuaro’s plaza.

The tiny puppy fad has engulfed Mexico now, too. Everywhere you look you see chihuahuas that are only a couple weeks old. Ali asked this lady if the dog had a mama. She said no, and shook her head sorrowfully, as if she had just rescued the poor puppy from a gutter. A dubious claim.

Turnin’ that frown upside down.

The kids got a “boombox” at the market, and suddenly thought they were the coolest on the block.

Complete with headset mic, perfect for doing baseball play-by-play.

And scorekeeping.