T and I took a time-out from the cultural delights, musical delicacies, and culinary hyperboles of 17th Street Market to take a short, five-minute drive westward to El Tiradito.
Adventure #2: El Tiradito
We stole parking at El Minuto, which, by the way, happens to be a delicious Mexican restaurant revered by many Tucsonans, despite their stringent towing policies.
El Tiradito, the only shrine in American that is dedicated to a sinner buried in unconsecrate ground, sits on a dirt lot with a couple scrawny trees. A contraption holds candles near the back of the lot, crosses point to the sky, standing upright in the dirt, and it appears to be a messy place: paper is strewn around, ashes sit in piles, old flowers lie overturned out of their vase.
What at first glance appears to be rubbish turns out to be very important--burned candles that symbolize the wishes and prayers of visitors, pictures of Gabby Giffords, the former state representative shot in the head in the Tucson shootings last month, as well as bread (symbolizing the body of God, as T astutely pointed out) and a boquet of flowers with a picture of a dog attached to it, Thor written on the bottom of the photo.
Although this place was small, squeezed between two commercial buildings, it provided T and I a chance to quiet ourselves after the excitement of 17th Street Market, a chance to reflect, a chance to recognize how lucky we are.
Particularly that we didn't get towed.