Friday, September 12, 2014

L.A. Greek Festival and More Tamales


I am known to lean towards being an obsessive. Last Saturday, I went online to search for festivals. Yeah, I can't believe it either. It just happened to be the weekend of the [Greek Fest] held at the [Saint Sophia Cathedral] of Los Angeles, on Normandie Ave. It was already kind of late for such a jaunt. I pretty much had to drop everything and hit the road. Well, I wouldn't have had to if I drove. It is not that far away, but far enough, then there was the parking I would have to deal with. The decision was if I drive, I was not going to go; take the train or stay home. That was a very strange decision, because a bus had to be included in that equation. However long a train takes, a bus takes longer. I would have to have a consolation for my efforts beyond the festival. What could it be? That is a mixed neighborhood, but it is heavily Latino. That stretch of Pico Blvd. between Normandie and Vermont is heavily Oaxacan, so what the hell, maybe I could find some tamales. Did I mention something about obsession?
[Map]

I'm on my way to a cathedral, so I might as well practice passing through gates, albeit not pearly ones.

The mural on the other side of the station.

This is at the Allen Station. I have never been here before. I have never seen this sign. There is plenty of opportunity for someone to mess a lot of people's travel plans, so I guess the sign is a good idea.

Back at Sierra Madre Station because I remembered I had left some important items in the car. I was only one station away, so it wasn't that big of a deal. Sierra Madre Station is the end of the line for the moment...

...but behind this cloth barrier lies the future of the [Gold Line]. It will go to Montclair with hopes of eventually making it to the Ontario Airport. Given the delays and setbacks these projects tend to have, I'll probably be in an old folks home, wearing diapers by the time they finish it.

If you need a restaurant very late at night and you are near downtown, this is one of the places to go. You don't have to worry about your safety because cops from various agencies and tons of Mariachis eat here too.

The Chinatown Seafood Market. 

The fish is fresh...

...but I come for the pig. Pig before...

...and pig after.

It was a very hot Saturday afternoon. These merchants on N. Spring Street have worked it out.

They created their own little tunnel of coolness - like by about 10 -15 degrees cooler.

Union Station with trains. What a thought.

The oval of bus bays at the depot.

The festival is so out they have reroute the buses.

Saint Sophia from a distance.

Promises, promises.

From the side, if you are unsure.

If you have no doubts, walk right on in.

Entering the party. 

I'm on my way to find tamales now. This mural is across Normandie Ave. from the cathedral. I gather it was put there by the Santa Sophia and Saint Thomas congregations. The churches are right next to each other. 

Below the mural is a bus stop. This guy saw me taking the shot and signaled that he wanted me to take one of him. Why? I don't know. It is not like he is ever going to get a copy of it. But what the hell, its digital, not going to cost me anything; I made him happy and took the shot.

Then this guy wanted a shot. I guess it was a one-upmanship game. The guy in the background figured he might as well get in on it too.

This is where I eventually got the tamales.

For the tamales I had to go through the usual routine for a new place. It took about 20 minutes (I kid you not) for the woman to come to an understanding of what I wanted: 1 dz. uncooked, preferably frozen tamales, to goThen she got suspicious all over again when I told her I wasn't going to buy them at that moment, but after I had gone to the festival across the street. Between you, me and the lamppost, when I was finished at the festival, I had no real desire to go buy those tamales. However, I suspected that if I did not, I'd be setting interracial relations in Los Angeles back about 20 years. The tamales are good. Go get some.

This is where, one day soon, I will have to get some goat.

This is where someday I will have to get some of whatever they have. 



Inside the cathedral.








Two power figures - a priest and a cop. Just like the movies. I took the shot from this side, because you know if a cop catches you taking her picture, all sorts of bad things can begin to happen.


They dance at this festival too. Faster than the Japanese.

A youth group.

Lamb leg cooked on a spit for dinner.

This photo is in this spot because, yes, Michael did slay the dragon, but what did they do with the meat? Put it on a spit? They wouldn't have wasted it, would they?

A Oaxacan youth band performed. Two sousaphones! I missed them because I was eating my once-spitted lamb inside. Not inside the cathedral, in the social room. 

The cemetery right next to the bus stop for my return. It was dark when I caught the bus. No worries, I am not afraid of ghosts. I was a little concerned that rats were probably out and about.

Back at Sierra Madre.

The tamales wrapped in foil. As you can see, a tamale is not just a tamale, there are variations. 

The tamales out of the foil, once cooked.

Ready to chow down.

The next day, Sunday, I had to play an early church service. It gave me an excuse to use a tie knot that I recently learned. [The Trinity]. An appropriate name for a church environment. It is not as difficult to tie as you might think, but it does take a little practice.

View #1 of the Trinity knot.

View #2.

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