Doughnuts and Mariachis to Go

There’s a park in central Mexico City where hundreds of mariachi musicians wait each day for work.

Called La Plaza de Garibaldi, it’s one of Mexico’s great unofficial cultural institutions, a chaotic, lively place where bands play, food and alcohol are sold, customers are sought and the sentimental tradition of ranchera music is kept alive.

Garibaldi Plaza’s local counterpart is the Olympic Donuts Shop’s parking lot at the corner of Boyle Avenue and 1st Street.

For decades this has been the punta de trabajo where local mariachis have waited for employers to come their way. It’s a uniquely L.A.-Mexico mix. In what other American city can you drive up for a carton of doughnuts and a half-dozen mariachis to go?

Although there are restaurants where you can hear better ranchera (La Fonda in Mid-Wilshire and El Cielito Lindo in East L.A. are among them), there’s something about being able to whip down the freeway, then come back to your party with a mariachi band in full regalia that makes this a cultural treasure to be cherished.

There are more picturesque corners on which a cultural treasure could reside.

The mariachis in their short black jackets, white shirts and tight black pants lined with silver trappings stand out against a tattered urban landscape.

To upgrade the area, the city’s Cultural Affairs Department hopes to build a mariachi plaza near the corner. As a way of generating interest, today (the day of the feast of St. Cecilia, patron saint of the mariachis) the city is holding the second annual Mariachi Festival on the corner from noon to 6 p.m.

However, even if the corner is improved, it will only affect part of the mariachis’ lives. Where they wait for work is important, but it’s when they find it that they fully come to life.

On Saturday night a week ago, Oscar Chavez, 26, pulled up in his white Nissan Maxima at 9 p.m. looking for a small band to play for a birthday party that evening for his mother, Andrea Amaya. “Mothers love to have mariachis play for them,” says Chavez.

There are some quick negotiations with the first group of musicians who crowd around his car window. “They said $200,” says Chavez. “I said I used to come here a lot. They said $180. I said what about $170 and that was it.”

One of the mariachis who has just been hired goes to get his blue 1975 Ford LTD. Their instruments loaded, four musicians pile in and follow Chavez to the party at an upstairs apartment near Normandie Avenue and 8th Street.

Because the mariachis are to be a surprise, they assemble quietly on the sidewalk, whispering and tuning their instruments. When all is ready, for dramatic effect the apartment’s lights are suddenly shut off (Chavez’s mother is told there’s been a power shortage), then the mariachis come marching up the stairs playing “En Tu Dia.”

The lights go on, the 40 guests start whooping and cheering, and Chavez asks his mother for the first dance as the guests applaud.

For the next hour, the mariachis work their way through favorites, including “La Puerta Negra,” “Los Mandados,” and “La Farsante.” On some songs, like “La Palma,” the crowd sings along. Outside on the sidewalk, passersby lean on parked cars listening to the music. Inside, everyone dances, children run by the musicians as they play and Chavez stands to one side sipping beer from a red plastic cup as he admires the scene.

The musicians play for just over an hour, then to great applause they make their way down the stairs to the LTD. Chavez thanks them, pays them in cash, and the mariachi drive back to Boyle Avenue and 1st Street.

For the rest of the night, recorded music plays at the party, but it’s just not the same.

Getting a Good Composition Takes a Little Work

Where: The parking lot and street corners surrounding the Olympic Donuts Shop at 1st Street and Boyle Avenue in East L.A.

When: There are more musicians looking for work on weekends, but being a mariachi is a 24-hour-a-day job. They work parties, masses, weddings, baptisms, anniversaries, burials--just about any place they can lug their instruments.

Cost: Negotiable. A ballpark figure is between $35 and $45 per hour per musician. Prices rise and fall on a number of variables: How many hours are asked, what kind of car you’re driving, the season, the time of day, the mood of the mariachi. Generally it’s a buyer’s market. However, keep in mind the musicians have a lot of pride about not selling themselves cheaply.

How Many You Should Hire: For a living room party, four mariachi are more than enough; for a football half-time show, two dozen aren’t. The basic components of a band should include: a vihuela (a small guitar whose strings are plucked), a violin, a guitar, a trumpet and a guitarron (large bass guitar.)

Note: Be sure to get a trumpet player. Without brass, a mariachi band lacks vibrancy. Also remember many of the players are not exactly ranchera all-stars. These grupos informal frequently come together for an evening, or for just one job.