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Ameyaltepec, Guerrero |
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Definitely the most interesting and enlightening trip in my life as it caused me to re-evaluate my definitions of poverty. Ameyaltepec, Guerrero is a town of about 300, mostly indigenous people that nearly crowns a low mountain about 2 hours south of Mexico City. I was invited to visit for the Day of the Dead (Halloween), November 2002 by a fellow I met in Cuernavaca. Don Felipe Diaz sells hand painted plates and vases around Cuernavaca's Zocalo. I began chatting with him a couple of years ago at the various restaurants and sidewalk cafes in the area. Felipe sells hand painted plates and vases ranging in price up to $300 pesos ($30US). It turns out that most of the town is involved in and famous for these paintings. See the PBS article here (opens in new window). They are sold in all corners of Mexico and exported to Canada, the U.S. and Europe. His granddaughters paint most Felipe's plates and vases; I imagine it's at least couple of days work for each plate. This sample is one that I asked him to make up especially for me. Usually they are full of bright colors.
In September of this year, he told me that his family was just about to finish building a second house on his property. I jokingly suggested that he invite me for the house warming, and he did! So, November 28 I set off to work a half-day with a client in Tehuixtla, Morelos then about 2:00 pm I continued on my way, through Iguala, Guerrero and found the turn off from the highway at about 5:00 pm. I had been told by a cab driver in Iguala that Ameyaltepec was only about 20 minutes off the highway so I didn't think I would have any problems, arriving well before dark. There were a couple of young fellows at the turn off and they confirmed that this was indeed the correct road so I continued on. Five minutes later I came across another group of young guys and stopped to reconfirm. This was my only mistake. One of them was fairly drunk and immediately became belligerent about the gringo who was asking questions. Fortunately, his friends calmed him down and told me that "Yes", I was on the right road. I was traveling by motorcycle and this was one of the nicest roads I've seen so far. There were a couple of potholes and some rocks on the road but with the sunset, mountains and curves it was near perfect. As such I wasn't quite paying attention and zoomed past the second turn off. Cresting the pass, I saw a little town in the valley and thought that must be it. I coasted into town, much to the surprise and delight of the kids playing in the street, and asked if this was Ameyaltepec. "No, you've missed it. You have to go back a little bit, turn, and you'll find it about 5 minutes on." No problem, it was still early, 5:30 or so, the sun had set behind the mountains but there was still lots of time before dark. Back to the main road, turn and off again. Twenty minutes on I still hadn't found my town. Now it was definitely dusky.
I figured that my best course would be to head back toward the highway and if I still didn't see the right turn off, I would continue on to Iguala to find a room for the night. U-turn, pick up speed (carefully though, the road was much worse at that point), then slow down for the puddle that spanned the road and wait for the car that was crossing in the other direction. As luck would have it, the belligerent drunk and his friend were in the car! However, the friendly one was driving. He confirmed that I was WAY past the turn off. As it was getting darker by the minute, I didn't chat too long.
Wouldn't you know, I was only a few minutes from the highway when I spotted the turn off. It was even marked with a sign for the "Escuela de ... de Ameyaltepec"! Okay, well, I was almost there, I continued toward town. This road was really bad, I'm sure it would be impassable for most of the rainy season and it was full dark by that time. Ten minutes later, rounding another corner, the lights of the town came into view. That had to be it! It was. I pulled into the square in the center of town at about 6:30 and there were few people on the street. I asked some gentlemen who were sitting in front of the church where I might find Don Felipe Diaz and they directed me back the way I'd come, one block and turn right. I found the house first try, imagine! As the town is build on the shoulder of the mountain, most of the houses are on a pretty steep slope. The roof of the Diaz house is about 50 cm above street on one side and the floor is about 4 m above street level on the other side! I think there might be 200 m2 of land with 20 m of street front. The original house shares a wall with the neighbor to the west. Inside, was a single room about 3.5 m by 8 m covered by a sturdy, corrugated, fiberglass roof. The new house stood on the other side of the patio/kitchen area and occupied the middle of the lot. It was perhaps 8 m by 8 m with 3 rooms inside, a cement roof and some nice brick arches on the patio side. The most easterly portion of the land, about 60 m2, is where the mule and donkey are kept. Except for the two back bedrooms in the new house, all the floors were of hard clayish dirt.
Access to the front street is by a ladder built of heavy sticks that get pretty slippery in the rain and mud. Access to the back street was down a tricky set of steps carved into the earth and then down a path to the street. Felipe and his wife, both of whom are about 80 years old, have to use these accesses. The kitchen is piled up against the wall below the street. The stove/oven is an earthen bowl shape set on a stick-built shelf, covered over by a "comal" and heated by wood. There were also one or more open fires built on the ground in the patio area.
Felipe and his wife of sixty-plus years had five children, two boys and three girls but one of the boys died at a few months of age. Rodrigo, the remaining son has three boys and two girls. The older boys (20 and 18 years old, I think) are working in California and send money home. The girls, Beatris (17 yrs) and Mari (13 yrs) do most of the cleaning and washing and some of the cooking. The youngest boy, Eduardo (10 yrs?) mostly plays with his cousin Alfredo, who also lives here. Felipe's daughters, Petra, Juana and Genoveva are all married and sell the plates and vases in Acapulco, Puerta Vallarta and (I think) Matamoros, respectively. However, all had returned to honor their ancestors on the day of the Dead.
The Day of the Dead was not the religious festival I expected. The main purpose seemed to be to welcome and provide for deceased of the family who were known to the celebrants. Felipe, his wife and daughters laid out 24 servings of food each day for three days. The first day, atole (a thin porridge) with bread, the second, chicken in broth with tamales (sort of a steamed cornbread wrapped in corn leaves) and the third day, chocolate with bread. The typical "ofrenda" would include food, photos of the deceased, cigarettes, tequila or anything else the dead had enjoyed in life. The ofrendas were laid out, in the case of Felipe's house, on a platform made of sticks about two meters long, a meter wide and not quite 2 meters high. Most of the family could walk under in without stooping. I didn't ask why it was so high, easier for the spirits to reach?
I'd guess that 50 or so families also laid out ofrendas in the churchyard. That was where the dead have been buried since the church was built. I don't know how old the church is but it wouldn't surprise me to hear it was built in the late 1700's.
I was treated royally during my stay. The ofrendas were set up by mid afternoon so that the deceased had time to eat before sunset. Despite the presence of a refrigerator, all the food had to be eaten before it spoiled. We ate four times a day as much as we cared to. There wasn't really much else to do! Felipe and I would walk across town about 8:00 p.m. each day to sleep in the house of his daughter, Petra. Petra sold the plates and vases in Puerta Vallarta. It turns out there's a bus from Iguala direct to Puerta Vallarta. It must be quite a trip through the mountains! Petra's house was quite nice, if rustic. It had dirt floors and no running water or bathroom. They insisted I take the nice bed, Felipe a hammock and Petra a cot.
Neither of the houses I visited had running water or bathrooms. There were drainage pipes coming out of some houses but not these two. However, the entire town enjoyed the water of a fresh water spring that was to be found just below the town and was probably the reason the town was founded where it was. The spring provided about 60 liters of water per family per day. The Municipal Government had built an enclosure and small reservoir around it. People would line up in the morning with their burros and two big jugs to pick up the water and carry it home. I drank the water every day with no ill effects! I should tell you more about Rodrigo, Felipe's son. I'd guess that he's about 40, a very pleasant guy. He married a girl from another town. She spent one day with us and the next two days with her family in the other town. Rodrigo farms the family's small plot of land up behind Petra's house. It's not accessible by vehicle; we went by burro. It might be 5000-6000 m2 in area. He grows mostly corn, some beans, melon and pumpkin. There's no irrigation, obviously, so what he grows from June to October is it for the year. I'm no farmer, far from it, but judging by what I saw I'd guess that the year's crop would only feed his two animals for a few months. To make things worse, the climate seems to be changing. The rains come later, it doesn't rain as much and it stays later in the year. At least that's what they told me. I know Cuernavaca is famous for the stability of its weather. It only rained during the rainy season and usually only at night. However, since I've been here, it's been somewhat less predictable. Not that I'm complaining! It's still one of the best climates in the world! In any event, the growing season stretches for only a few months over the summer. From a strictly economic point of view, I doubt it's worth it. Probably the greatest advantage is that it keeps Rodrigo at home, with his family, instead of trying to sneak into the US to work construction. He told me that he was working construction the year before in Valle de Bravo, near Mexico City. He also paints the plates and vases too, when there's time.
The 7th of December is the big celebration in the town. The Virgin of Guadalupe is normally worshiped on the 12th but Ameyaltepec isn't large enough to draw the best fireworks makers and musicians so they celebrate the week before. One of the most exciting events of the celebration is burning one or more "Castillos", a bamboo tower loaded with fireworks. The weekend I was there, the men of the town met to take bids from the area's "Castilleros" and contract one for the big celebration. Because the decision was so important, several municipal "assistants" were assigned to set up a roadblock to prevent townspeople from leaving without contributing. I understand that the townspeople were expected to contribute several hundred pesos per person to pay for the "Castillos", musicians, food and other trimmings. It seemed a lot of money for "poor" people to be spending on a party, but then it depends on you definition of poor. True, the people who sell artesania on the streets of Cuernavaca aren't economically privileged but Felipe, at least has his family, his home, his heritage and I believe genuinely enjoys life more than most of the economically privileged. That reminds me of something else. One day I found a Canadian dollar, a Loonie, half buried in the dirt of Petra's patio. I asked her where it came from and she said that those Canadians in Puerta Vallarta were always giving them to her. The money exchanges wouldn't take foreign coins so she usually just threw them away. So, here's a hint for you Canadians, come on down to enjoys the beaches and sun but take your Loonies back with you! If you want to help, and you should, give pesos or bills! ;-) See you soon, Doug Hurd |
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