Mexico's ubiquitous serenading Mariachi bands are by definition almost never silent. But the silent departure of a dozen Mariachis hired to celebrate the ruling party's expected victory, as they piled into a hearse outside party HQ, was the most memorable confirmation of defeat of Mexico's Institutional Revolutionary Party after 71 years in power.
"I don't understand it," said one veteran PRI campaigner, clutching a Mexican flag, who accompanied the PRI candidate, Francisco Labastida, on all his nationwide trips; "everyone supported us, everyone came out for us", he said, grasping on to the last remaining certainty in life.
For the past 70 years, the PRI has drilled home the message that it and it alone represented the one united, patriotic force in the country, the "Mexican family". And like any family, its members could disagree, and even run away from home, but they could never leave the family fold.
One leading party official showed me a photo of the Zapatista rebel commander, Comandante Marcos, in his office, explaining how he admired the rebel, who he compared to a feisty adolescent gone astray. One of Marcos's sisters was a state PRI deputy and worked on Labastida's campaign.
The mood was reminiscent of Nicaragua in February 1990, when the shock defeat of the Sandinistas left an eerie silence and a sense of uncertainty ahead. "That's one million people out of a job tomorrow," piped up one local journalist, recalling the enormous state apparatus which has built up around the PRI during seven decades in power.
When this reporter arrived at party HQ shortly after polls closed on Sunday evening, PRI supporters had already gathered outside, banging drums in jubilant anticipation of certain victory. The party machinery had swung into action behind Labastida, votes were pledged in their millions by loyal activists spread across every one of the nation's 113,000 voting booths: everything seemed in order.
But this time around the people had had enough, the state machinery was worn out and the opposition was confident and aggressive; Vicente Fox, Mexico's next president, cleverly adopted the slogan "take what you can but vote for the PAN", which worked to perfection. The PRI loyalists took the washing machines, bicycles and cash handouts, then bit the hand back, demanding more.
When news of the first exit polls arrived, the drums fell silent and the men in suits disappeared into upstairs offices. Rosaelba Arroyo, director of Mr Labastida's press campaign, remained buoyant, saying that the urban vote was always contrary to the PRI, but that the rural vote would confirm Labastida's victory. It seemed churlish to challenge such optimism but an hour later the tendency was irreversible.
"At least the dry law [ban on alcohol] is over," said one dejected PRI official, heading out to a late-night bar. "I'm going to murder a bottle of tequila."
The sudden arrival of Labastida was greeted with an unruly stampede, as party activists and press alike clamoured for a front-row seat at this historic moment. A thousand people crushed into the press room, giving Labastida a rousing ovation, which lasted for several minutes. "Duro, Duro," they chanted, "tough, tough", as Labastida looked worn and defeated, his wan smile a pale reflection of the triumphant mood when he cast his vote earlier that morning. Labastida punched the air, reciprocating the gesture of his followers, but cut short the ovation, anxious to say his piece.
"The tendencies are against us," he said, "but the result is tighter than the exit polls suggest." For one moment it felt like Labastida might kick for touch, rejecting the inevitable defeat. "I have a deep love for Mexico," he continued, "and that deep love obliges me to abide by the will of the Mexican people, who spoke today." It was all over.
The party faithful propped each other up, there were long hugs and deep sighs, as the gravity of the moment sank in. The PRI, which had only to look into its own heart to discern the will of the people, had been rejected.
Labastida called on the party to begin a period of "profound reflection", to return to its roots, to go back to the people, all around Mexico, "and emerge triumphant" next time around. This was a different PRI speaking. This was the "revolutionary" as against the "institutional" PRI, which distributed land to peasants, defends women's rights and nationalised the oil industry.
Labastida's voice cracked, his wife placed her arm around his shoulders and they slowly left the room, engulfed in a sea of hugs, kisses and commiseration.
Outside, the waiting PRI supporters had disappeared as the triumphant opposition cavalcade honked horns and waved flags, marking the dawn of a new era in Mexican politics.