To Zamora, Michoacán, “Berry Town”

We arrived in Mexico 26^th February 2018. Our first two days were in Mexico City. There was evidence of the recent earthquake (September 2017) in the neighbourhood of our hotel. Two streets were closed and in one place people were still living under temporary plastic sheeting. We were told that there are now large alarms giving three minutes’ warning of a quake: our friend Pepe Ballesteros told us that his female colleagues no longer wear high heels at work because they can’t run in when the alarm sounds if their heels are fashionably high.

 

Diego Rivera's San Ángel studio

Our first day we took a trip to San Ángel, to the south of the city. After a brief stop for coffee and carrot cake we visited the studios/houses that Juan O’Gorman designed for Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo and himself. The Rivera studio was full of his popular and ancient Mexican art collection. We also saw the bed on which he rested from painting, and in which he died. A handy arrow hanging from the ceiling showed us the height of the great artist: I am a few centimetres shorter.  There was also an exhibition of art relating to his visit to Moscow in the 1930s.

The second day was a trip to Coyoacán, a district of the city noted for its colonial architecture and a fine colonial church. We walked past the house of Diego Ordaz who was one of Cortés’ captains during the conquest of Mexico.

 

The church of San Juan Bautista, Coyoacán

Our two days in Mexico City were also full of eating: we had dinner with Chris West and Pepe Ballesteros, two publishing friends from many years ago; lunch with Paul Schmidt, an archaeologist who has helped me with my project; Anne Johnson, an anthropologist who has also given me advice; and the Landera family, my landlords in 1974-1975.

Our journey to Zamora was a bus trip of about five and a half hours. The trip begins in the enormous northern bus terminal, climbs out of the Valley of Mexico (its slopes a jumble of informal settlements that occupy every space, however steep), along the Valley of Toluca and then a left turn into Michoacán. The state’s name is prehispanic and means “place of the people who eat fish” taken from the many lakes we drove past. The road to Zamora goes through lush countryside with poly-tunnels in vast quantities: the town is the centre of a transnational fruit-growing business.

Our friend Verónica Oikión and her husband Sergio met us at the bus station and delivered us to our apartment, a convenient few minutes from the Colegio de Michoacán where I will be carrying out my research. We share the building with two anthropologists (one American, the other French-Canadian). Our neighbourhood is pleasantly quiet (with the notable exception of two dogs on the roof of the house behind us). A short walk to the south is a large square with a catholic church and the town’s cultural centre.

 

Jan outside our apartment building

Friday was a rather exhausting day of introductions to numerous colleagues in the history department, the library, and the administration department. All greeted us with a smile, a handshake and the assurance, in true Mexican style that they are “a sus órdenes” (at your service). One surprise, was to discover that the Canadian English teacher, Paul Kersey has a Suffolk connection: his grandfather was a Barnardo boy given as his new name that of the village of Kersey in Suffolk. The Colegio is a collection of modern, well-lit and airy buildings, with gardens below, and a roof garden with shade and tables and chairs. We can already testify that the cafeteria provides an excellent lunch (lentil soup, stuffed pepper or breaded fish, tortillas, and a Mexican version of bread-and-butter pudding, with orange or guava juice for £2).

 

The Luis González Library, Colegio de Michoacán

The Centre of Historical Studies has 12 academic staff and 18 students (all the students of the five departments are post-graduates). Next Wednesday the department gathers to welcome Jan and me. I have to give a brief talk about my research project.

The view from the roof of our building

We must say that Zamora is not a town of infinite charms and stunning architecture, but it bustles with movement and the endless shops and street vendors whose wares make a walk around any town a riot of colours and odours. We walked yesterday to the centre to check it out and find ground coffee (not available in our local shops). We bought local coffee in a shop that sells coffee and Catholic memorabilia, prayer books and the like: a novel business model in my experience. For those of a sweet tooth, there are lots of “neverías” (ice cream shops).

Daily life poses a few challenges which we will deal with one-by-one: how to adjust the water heater, how to work the washing machine; how to handle the enormous bottles of distilled water that provide drinking and cooking water; rubbish collection (daily, no recycling, hanging a bag of rubbish on a nail on the telephone pole outside the gate).