Fair rides have been set up near the corner of Blvd. Benito Jaurez and Kino since about two
weeks before Semana Santa. Have you had your chance to hop on a ride, yet? Live the
experience through MoKa’s retelling of the adventure, leading up to Children’s Day on
April 30th.

There’s nothing better to let out the child we all carry inside than to step into a fair: the flashy neon colors, aroma of candy, popcorn and other delights, games of skill, but above all the rides! We have a childlike fixation because everything turns, and everything
spins us until we burst out laughing.

This is how the journey begins: a curious look, one somewhere between astonishment and
happiness, and maybe a little uncertainty in not knowing which ride to go on first.

Nevertheless, being an adult can certainly help with this decision as many rides are off limits, though that does not make the experience any less fun or enlightening.

And that’s how it was…during a moment of free time I invited a friend to the fair, all in
honor of Children’s Month.

Upon entering there is a carrousel, which in itself is enlightening as you are told you are
an adult, period. You can’t get on, regardless of however much you wanted to ride an
elephant or roadrunner up and down, unless it’s to hold onto your kids. In addition to it
being a small carrousel, a few spots under each animal seemed to be held together with duct tape, so I don’t believe it would be advisable for an adult. Wearing a frown, I had to pass on that. Every spin around would have been a like a symbolic regression, a time machine as it were. Oh well. Safety comes first.

Moving beyond that ride, there were skill games with marbles, fishing, or toy rifles to the right; each with prizes depending on ability. There’s also the Ferris Wheel which, while not big, turns quickly. It’s not as scenic as one may think, but it’s fun and particularly when the rider up ahead wants to propose to the girl at his side.

There, near the planes for toddlers, is the ride that looks like shells spinning in place along a track that rises and falls. In my family we call them the “crazy cups” or “oranges,” but I’ve never really known what they’re called.

When I go with people who don’t know what I’m talking about, I simply point them out; we
smile in tacitly rascally fashion and run to pick out the one that spins the most.

My first memory of these was from when I was young. It was my first “strong” ride. Once
my mom saw I could take it, she let me get on as many times as I wanted. She did say,
however, that I couldn’t simply stay on the ride. I had to get off and go with her, and then
she would ask “Again?” and I would respond “Yes!”, each time with a little less enthusiasm,
though I’d return to the little cup until, quite frankly, I couldn’t stand up anymore and
began to turn green.

However, back at the fair! See that large post there? That’s another ride. You’re launched
into the air when you least expect it. This ride is featured in the movie Zombieland, which is why I don’t recommend hopping on it in the event of a zombie apocalypse, but other than
that it’s fun, particularly if they catch you off guard.

Behind that is the Kamikaze, which swings you around until you’re upside down, filling
the fair below with screams of excitement (I believe) and laughter. There are times you can
see items such as coins, baseball caps, and sandals fall if you’re paying attention.

That’s the deal with these rides, bursts of adrenaline. Then there’s that thing, which in addition to being extreme, makes one well aware of the weight of age. It’s called CAOS. I didn’t know what it did, so I asked the attendant when I bought my ticket, “What does it do?” “Well, it spins,” he answered without much emotion.

I immediately rushed my friend to get on, I mean, after all, “it only spun”. Yet, the attendant’s lack of emotion was unjustified. The simple remark of “It just spins” required a follow-up explanation. As I told me friend, after her soul had returned to her body, I have now experienced translatory motion and rotation. Only those who do not understand the basic principles of the Earth’s movement should be allowed on that ride, or those who insist on becoming astronauts.

I can’t even describe it, that would ruin the surprise. But once you get on, you’ll understand. Or better yet, if you’re curious or cautious, before getting on take a moment to
watch it to see not only the horror itself, but also the faces of the people when they get off.

I won’t say how we were when we got off, but use your imagination. The good thing is I had gone with a friend, and not one of the kids who had stayed seated, enthusiastically
shouting, “again! again!” (if there are not many people waiting, you can stay on the ride
and just hand over another ticket).

We exited the ride without looking back, and instead headed to the bumper cars. There we enjoyed ourselves like young girls; all the kids nearby followed us and it was fabulous!

Chasing, bumping into each other, darting away. This time it was us shouting “again, again!” However, there weren’t that many people and bumper cars with just two people isn’t quite as fun.

We hung out for a while, just walking around, observing, thinking about which ride to pick. Yet, honestly, we had had our fill with spins and there was no one at the House of Horrors.

There in the center, like an island of rest, there stood one of the visual elements I
most enjoy at the fair, the “Candy Store.” Check it out! It’s beautiful! It looks like it
came from another time: its form, colors, allusions, lines, cotton candy, and corn
dogs! I simply love it! It pulsates. It’s as if it were the soul of the fair. In fact, I believe it is.

I stood there a while, watching as people passed by smiling, feeling how the fair itself moved.

It’s as if below it all, a drainpipe of sorts were under each ride, washing away concerns if even for a moment. It’s nice to feel like a child for a while.