People and life in Zamora, Michoacán

This week seems a good time to introduce some of the people we have got to know here in Zamora.

Not long after we arrived in Zamora, we were returning from a stroll in the cool of the evening and met two of our neighbours strolling in the opposite direction. Don Pepe (Pepe is the familiar form of José. Don is a traditional title of respect mostly applied nowadays to older people) remarked Somos como novios (“We are like a courting couple”). When we asked for how long, he replied “68 years”. We estimate that Don Pepe must be very close to 90 years of age.

Don Pepe and his wife live in a very substantial house on the corner of our block. He owns other properties in the neighbourhood. He tells us that he has 33 grandchildren. Several other family members live in houses close by: we often encounter Pepe and his wife returning from lunch in a granddaughter’s home. Almost every day we greet one another, and occasionally stop for a chat. A few weeks ago, Don Pepe had a small patch of grass (about 1 foot by 6 feet) laid to brighten up the pavement outside his house. We often encounter him watering it of an evening. The family owns a “small piece of land” in the country and frequently holds gatherings there. On Don Pepe’s saint’s day more than 70 people gathered. In Mexico family and parties are very important.

Don Pepe’s prosperity was built on his shop on Calle Ávila Camacho, a short walk from home. He tells us that he opened it in 1969. The shop sells fruit, vegetables and chicken. His son José Manuel runs it nowadays. Manuel’s customers seem to enjoy his jolly manner, and we often exchange a joke. He tells us that he works twelve hours a day, six days a week. He certainly is the only person left tending the store late in the afternoon.

Another Zamora friend is Sergio, a vet. When he graduated, he was obliged by law to undertake six months of social service. He chose for his service a small town in the state of Oaxaca, Miahuatlán de Porfirio Díaz. Porfirio Díaz was a military man who was born in Miahuatlán. He defeated the French invaders at a battle there in 1866: a  proud moment in the town’s history. Don Porfirio ruled Mexico with a combination of pan y palo (bread and stick) from 1876 to 1911 when the Mexican Revolution sent him into exile in France.

 

The commemoration of the victory over the French at Miahuatlán on 3 October 1866

Sergio’s task was to visit villages in the region of Miahuatlán to inoculate livestock for a charge of 15 centavos. The first step was to visit the village authorities. Upon arrival, Sergio was offered a large glass of mezcal (a potent spirit). Being a conscientious professional, he politely explained that he was working and could not drink. The authorities then held a conversation in their indigenous language and the meeting ended with no animals inoculated. Once Sergio realized that he would not inoculate a single animal if he did not drink the mezcal, the inoculation programme progressed famously.

After completing his social service Sergio worked for the agriculture department of the federal government. There he developed a national system for tracing livestock movements. Now, in retirement, he is the only person in Zamora officially qualified to tag animals to meet the requirements of the movement scheme. He is much in demand.

Commemoration of the solar eclipse of 1875 in 2015

Miahuatlán, by the way, has a claim to fame in addition to being the birthplace of Porfirio Díaz and the site of his famous victory. In 1970 it was the place of maximum duration (3 minutes and 28 seconds) of a solar eclipse and was officially declared the “Scientific Centre of the World’.

Occasionally, we relax in a rather trendy café close to the Colegio de Michoacán with an ice cold frapé de chocolate. We are served by a cheery young woman who comes from a small village about an hour and a half from Zamora. Her family, including her husband, lives in Chicago. She had gone to Chicago to study, but after a time found employment. All was well until somebody in her workplace denounced her to the immigration authorities. Undocumented residents of America live very precarious lives. The US government increased the rate of deportations under President Obama and President Trump exploited fears of immigrants to win the election. In these circumstance, individual lives and facts matter little.

In a café on the plaza of Zamora, we met another Michoacana who lives in Chicago. She told us that she is one of nineteen children, born on a farm just outside the town. She lives in Chicago and runs a real estate business there: our brief conversation in halting English suggested that most of her customers must be Mexican. A few days later we bumped into the same lady in our neighbourhood. While we were choosing bread, she hurried home and came back with a gift of avocados from the family farm.

The main entrance of the Colegio de Michoacán

In the Colegio de Michoacán a number of people make our life agreeable. A small group of vigilantes guards the  three entrances day and night. They have got to know us well enough to admit us with a cheery buenos días, que le vaya bien (“Good morning, have a good day”). The man who guards the entrance to a private street, in which one gate is located, has two jobs as we discovered one Saturday morning, while walking to the Mesón de Valle hotel for breakfast. Our afternoon vigilante was working his second job, cleaning a medical

The vigilante's broom

building and the pavement outside. One Sunday, when we went to the Colegio to read in the quiet and cool of the garden, we found the vigilante at the main entrance making brooms of twigs, collected in the garden, to sweep the entrance area. His evident pride was matched by the formal beauty of the brooms.

Weekdays, we take our lunch in the cafeteria of the Colegio. Front of house is run by Lety and her brother-in-law (her sister is the cook). The team starts work at 6:30am to prepare for breakfast at 8am. Lunch starts at 2pm. The working day finishes about 5:00-5:30pm. Lety then spends her early evenings doing other jobs: one is to clean our apartment once a week. We know when Lety has been cleaning: the smell of Pinol, the universal disinfectant floor cleaner, lingers, and some of our less tidy areas are made orderly. Lety finds my name hard to pronounce. I explained that Ian is the equivalent of Juan, so she addresses me as Don Juan!

 

The Colegio's gardens and the cafeteria

The gardens of the Colegio are a haven from the noise and bustle of Zamora. Trees provide shade and a haven for birds. Bougainvilleas provide brilliant colour. To one side of the cafeteria is a tree with orange flowers much frequented by a hummingbird. A roof garden, with shaded areas with seats and tables for working, connects the main academic buildings. All of this is cared for by one gardener. I met him one day dusting the solar panels: Zamora generates dust in quantities. Since there are some 40 or 50 panels that need dusting, this alone keeps him busy.