Under the volcano

It is said that, when the King of Spain asked Hernán Cortés to describe the Kingdom of New Spain, the conqueror crumpled up a piece of parchment. Much of Mexico is, indeed crumpled, by mountains of volcanic origin. The two most famous (and not easy to pronounce) volcanoes preside over the city of Mexico: Popocatépetl (smoking mountain) and Ixtaccíhuatl (white woman). Both are hundreds of thousands of years old.

Paricutín from a distance

The lava field

The youngest member of the Mexican volcano family was born in Michoacán. In February 1943 a farmer, Dionisio Pulido left his village named San Juan Parangarikutirhu to prepare his field for the approaching planting season. He noticed a crack in the ground that was emitting smoke and stones. Dionisio rushed back home to alert his neighbours. Eight months later a cone of ash 365 metres tall loomed over San Juan and a stream of lava moved slowly but surely down the slope to the now empty homes.

Jan and I joined an end-of-conference outing for a group of historical demographers. Their meeting was entitled Causes of Death in Mexico from the Colonial Period to the 20^th Century. They were clearly in the mood for some more light-hearted activity. Our mini-bus took us up some 900 metres to the Purhépecha meseta: large valleys and rolling plains fringed by mountains. In the towns, traditional wooden buildings (trojes) stand beside anonymous modern concrete buildings. Farming here does not mean the berries of Zamora, but livestock (cows, goats, sheep) and avocado trees. Every town seems to have a comedor comunal (community dining room), set up by the federal government as part of its Cruzada Nacional Contra el Hambre (National Crusade Against Hunger). For all their traditional architecture, indigenous traditions and beautiful landscape, these communities have lagged behind the economic development of Zamora or the factories further to the north.

The upper part of the façade of the church

Signposting in the meseta is non-existent. We were fortunate that Chantal, our driver, was familiar with the route. At Angahuan a hand-made sign points to El Volcán. From here one bounces along a narrow dirt road, manoeuvring round parked vehicles and oncoming trucks. Eventually, the road leads to the restaurant that offers views of the volcano’s cone and the lava field and the pine forest of the sierra. The round trip to the volcano is at least four hours on horseback, so we limited ourselves to the lava field. The homes of Don Dionisio and his neighbours lie under a thick layer of black lava, but parts of the church at which they worshipped remain. The façade is half-submerged in black stone, but the upper register and the towers (one not yet finished in 1943) stand alone in the lava.

Our lunch restaurant

Lunch is prepared

The church of St. James the Apostle

After a lunch of blue corn quesadillas of melted cheese and assorted additions (courgette flowers, crispy pig skin, mushroom, and chorizo with potatoes), we headed down towards Nurío, a purhépecha town in a long and broad valley. In the plaza stands the church of Santiago Apóstol ("St. James the Apostle"), built with Indian labour in 1639. The interior is a long and wide nave with a decorative wooden ceiling. Behind the altar is a retablo (altarpiece) in which stands a small statue of Christ. Above him is a rather more eye-catching statue of St James. More prominent still is a statue of the Virgin, depicted as a young woman wearing a white dress, a blue cape and a glitzy tiara. As the faithful enter the church they pass under a low wood-panelled ceiling decorated with painted angels with much gold detailing. This is the sotacoro, the decorative underpart of a choir balcony.

St. James The Apostle interior

 

The sotacoro of St. James the Aspostle

The huatapera chapel at Nurío

Behind the church is the walled enclosure of the huatapera (chapel and community centre, which in colonial times included a hospital). The plain exterior of the chapel of the Immaculate Conception belies the 17^th-century Baroque interior and altarpiece, rich in gold and statues of saints. In the early 19^th-century the painter Gregorio Cervantes and carpenter José Characu added a richly decorated sotacoro depicting the apostles. During our visit, a lady in traditional dress was giving young girls and a few boys a talk, in Spanish, about moral behaviour and the importance of avoiding temptations.

Church of St. Bartholomew, Cocucho

We moved on to another purhépecha town, Cocucho, renowned for its ceramics. The potters of Cocucho mould by hand clay mixed with volcanic sand to form large vessels. They polish them with wet stones or olotes (the core of a maize cob) before firing them under piles of wood. Maize dough mixed with water is applied to the hot vessels: the results are tones of brown, gold or black.

St. Bartholomew interior

The church here is devoted to St Bartholomew. The building is 17^th century, but the interior was much altered in the 18^th century. Here the sotacoro depicts Santiago Matamoros (St James the Moor killer) chopping up a Muslim. It is most unlikely that an 18^th century Mexican artist had much idea of what a Moor looked like: certainly, the dismembered Moors resemble St James and the Spanish soldiers carrying firearms. Around this rather disconcerting scene, angels play European instruments. Fortunately, on the day we visited, the people of Cocucho had their minds on something more positive than dismembering Muslims. The main street was blocked by a fiesta: we had some trouble finding our way out of town, but eventually descended to the searing heat of Zamora.

The sotacoro of St. Bartholomew

The Virgin, little devils and the Holy Spirit

When the Spaniards conquered ancient Mexico the land was peopled by speakers of many languages. The predominant language here in Michoacán was what we now call purhépecha. A friend from the Colegio took us to Ocumicho, a hill town above the valley of Zamora where most residents speak Purhépecha and/or Spanish.

Walking to the huatapera

The modest square at the centre of Ocumicho has the usual architectural features: a colonial church with a modern tower added, and a modest one-story town hall. To the left, a few metres slightly downhill is another space, the huatapera. The early evangelizers of Michoacán built hospitals as well as churches. The huatapera was originally a combination of chapel, hospital and communal centre. The Ocumicho community centre includes an open-air kitchen a meeting hall and a chapel. This place of worship has distinctly Catholic features, but no priest officiates here: the community runs all the services.

The courtyard of the huatapera

Interior of the chapel

The interior of the chapel would strike a good Anglican as very unorthodox. Colourful decorations hang from the ceiling. The altar is entirely hidden behind a mass of flowers and the figure behind the altar is the Virgin Mary wearing a necklace of US $1 and $5 bills. The crucified Christ has to be content with a secondary position on a side wall. He too wears a dollar necklace. Wooden benches along the side walls allow lots of open space for ceremonial activities.

When we arrived, a group of women in splendidly embroidered dresses were busy cooking. We were offered a bowl of beans to which we added chopped onion, tomatoes, chile and coriander. Quite delicious (áshpi in Purhépecha). The women invited us back at 6pm to see the Virgin being processed out of the church.

We returned promptly at 6pm to find that things had not yet started. A bit later a man rang the church bells, not to summon worshippers to church, but to the Huatapera. A customary rocket seconded the summons with a loud bang. After a while mothers began to arrive with young girls dressed in white carrying bunches of flowers. Older women also joined the group but no adult men.  When the chapel was pretty much full four men joined the throng. Meanwhile, a group of women lined up holding offerings: oil and vinegar, a chalice and other things. The younger women, in their traditional dress, wore high heels that would not be out of place in London or New York.

The chapel façade

The procession of the Virgin begins

As a female voice inside the chapel led the prayers, the young girls carried the flowers to the altar. Once the flowers were all in place, the girls led a procession outside, followed by a banner and then the Virgin carried by four young women and the rest of the gathering. The procession was short, accompanied by prayers.

The Virgin

 

The procession returns to the chapel

Octavio with one of his works ready for firing

Ocumicho is known internationally for its diablos (devils), colourful ceramic figures. We visited the workshop of Octavio Esteban Reyes. He showed us his range of merchandise: devil figures and masks, ceramic cars driven by devils, in contrast a tree of life with a nativity scene. Outside the kiln was heating up and pieces waited to be fired in the kiln for painting. Octavio learned his craft from his father, and other members of his family are involved in the devil-making business.

Diablitos

 

The kiln

The Holy Spirit emerges from the church

The weekend of 19 and 20 May was Espíritu Santo (Holy Spirit: or Whitsun in the UK). Since this is the name or the parish church at the end of our street there were celebrations. During the week the bells summoning parishioners to mass were followed by ear-shattering rockets. Saturday evening after the last mass there was a procession. The priest brought out the Santísimo (Most Holy: the monstrance) from the altar and placed it on the back of a pick-up truck where a young woman held it steady.

The procession

The procession round the neighbourhood was accompanied by chants such as alábale (praise him), occasional shouts of ¡Viva Cristo Rey! ("Long live Christ the King") or ¡Viva la comunidad de Las Fuentes! ("Long live the community of Las Fuentes"). At the rear, one man carried a large bundle of rockets, another a portable wooden frame for launching them. Periodic booms punctuated our procession. Along our route many houses were decorated with balloons: these were burst as the procession passed, either by a young woman from the church who carried a pin, or by the residents. When the procession reached one of the several plazas in Las Fuentes, where a temporary altar was set up, the priest carried the Santísimo to display it to the assembled parishioners. More cries of ¡Viva Cristo Rey!, and a salvo of rockets.

Eventually, the procession returned to the church where a night-long vigil was held. At about 7am we heard the strains of a mariachi playing Las mañanitas (a traditional celebratory song) to mark the end of the vigil. Throughout Sunday more or less continuous masses were held, accompanied by much ringing of bells and more rocket salvos.

Tamales for sale

Cakes and jellies

Meanwhile, the large plaza was filled with food stalls and fairground rides. The equipment of a band was set up on the concrete platform at the far end of the plaza. By evening, masses competed with the smells of food, the lights and music of the fairground rides, and the plaza started to fill with people. In a taped off area that a British health and safety officer would consider far too small, the fireworks specialists started to construct el castillo ("the castle), with which all big celebrations must end in Mexico. We picked up some tamales (steamed maize dough filled with meat and a sauce) and two good slices of cake to eat at home before returning to the plaza.

Construction of the castillo

By now the place was crammed. The band was battling bravely against the music and racket of the fairground rides behind it. Everywhere people were eating, chatting strolling around (very slowly because of the crowds). At about 10:30 the band had yet more competition: the first fireworks of the castillo were lit. The castillo is a structure some 40 feet tall on which are strung a variety of fireworks. These are set off in sequence from bottom to top. On the lower levels large Catherine wheels fizzed, whirled and let off loud noises. The penultimate level was the real showstopper: a large white firework dove (representing the Holy Spirit) that turned counter-clockwise high above the crowd. Then followed the whizzes and bangs of the top level.

The band played on until midnight. We left for bed.

Another Mexico: cattle and cheese

This week’s bulletin is a portrait of another Mexico than the urban bustle of Zamora, and still less of Guadalajara. The Colegio de Michoacán was founded by a famous Mexican historian, Luis González y González. Don Luis is particularly famous for a history of his home town, San José de Gracia, Michoacán. His son, Martín and his wife Nora, took us to visit San José and the family home.

The drive to San José rises gently from the valley floor of Zamora, eventually reaching 1,900 metres above sea level. Here there are no “berries” cultivated under plastic covers, but a rolling plain of pasture land for cows – lots of cows. San José (population just under 10,000) was once part of the state of Jalisco, but the cattle farmers of the town disliked being ruled from nearby Mazamitla. After a long political tussle, in 1888 they established their own municipality and had the state boundaries moved so that the new town would be in Michoacán. The plan of the new settlement was traced by ox-drawn ploughs.

The González home in San José

Modern Mexican homes are flat-roofed structures of concrete and reinforcing steel bars. Many homes in contemporary San José are of this type, but this was not the architecture of traditional Mexican homes, as the González household demonstrates. The construction materials were simple and local: walls of adobe (mud brick), beams and columns of local and abundant timber, and a roof (with a large overhang to protect the adobe walls from rain) of ceramic tiles. No nails were used: sheer weight holds the timbers in place.

The current house retains three sides of the quadrangle (the fourth was sold at some stage to a neighbour). In the centre is a partly paved garden of plants (some for herbs) and trees (some for fruit) and a well for water. At the rear was once a garden or orchard and room for animals: a cow perhaps, and horses. The family cattle ranch was a short horse ride from town.

The González hom in San José

The González who built the family home had studied for the priesthood, but changed his mind and married, intending to have a large family. However, the only child was Luis, the future historian.

The González home in San José

Luis was only a year old when the Cristero revolt (1926-1929) broke out in western Mexico. When the Catholic church closed its doors in protest against the federal government’s policies, fervent Catholics in towns like San José took up arms. The González family did not join the guerrilla bands, but remained loyal to the Catholic church. In secret, they converted a room in their home into a chapel, complete with its retablo (altarpiece) and altar. It also had an escape hatch for the priest in case the federal troops surprised the family in worship. Eventually, the federal army advanced across the plains around San Luis. The population fled and the government troops set up their headquarters in the González’s home. Since the soldiers were good Catholics they left the chapel untouched.

Over time some innovations were introduced into the González home: one room was used to install a baño inglés (English bathroom), complete with a bathtub. In some rooms the original wooden beams were concealed by a large painted canvas called a tapacielos (literally sky cover).

An uncle, a local priest, took the education of Luis in hand and sent him to school in Guadalajara. From there the young González undertook his university studies and, after graduating, was sent to Paris to study for a PhD. War interrupted his studies and Luis returned to Mexico where he served briefly in the Mexican army. This was not a terribly dangerous occupation: Mexico joined the Allied forces but sent only a token number of soldiers and one air squadron.

Statue of Luis González

Luis longed to return to San Luis, but his career took him to the Colegio de México, the most prestigious social sciences centre in Mexico and home to many great Mexican historians. González was very well connected in Mexican academia and politics (in Mexico these two worlds are not at all separate). He used his influence to create in Michoacán an equivalent of the Colegio de México. The brand new Colegio de Michoacán opened its doors in 1979, initially, in a small house in the centre of Zamora, sufficiently close to San José for Luis to settle into the family home at last.

Behind the house, where once stood the odd cow, the horses, no longer needed in the age of the motor car, and the orchard, don Luis built a library to house his rather more than 20,000 books. Jan, ever the librarian, asked if the library was catalogued. Martín replied that the books are not exactly catalogued, but that they are organized according to his father’s interests. To wander the library is to walk through the long and dramatic history of Mexico and the many ways in which it has been interpreted.

Mexicans learn through their school textbooks and public celebrations a standard narrative of their history. The story begins with pride in the great indigenous civilizations and the Aztec’s heroic fight to the death against the Spanish conquerors. For the next three hundred years of colonial rule no heroes are identified but the struggle for Independence created some of the most revered heroes: such as the priests Hidalgo and  Morelos. Resistance to foreign invasions during the 19^th century raised more to the status of national hero. The Mexican Revolution of 1910-1920 made more worthy of statues in public spaces across the republic: notably the peasant leader Emiliano Zapata, or the rampaging general Pancho Villa, notable for being the only Mexican to invade the United States (actually just the small town of Columbus, New Mexico and for only a few hours).

Statue of Apolinar Partida

From the perspective of a small town of cattle ranchers like San José de Gracia, the history of the nation looks quite different. Revolutionary bands were usually bad news – there were no landless peasants here, nor greedy big landowners. The anti-clerical revolutionary governments of the 1920s were still worse. In May 1918 the forces of the ferocious Inés Chávez García, more bandit than revolutionary attacked San José. Apolinar Partida  led the defence and died defending his town along with all but one of his fighters, but not before gunning down between 70 and 100 of their enemies. A statue in the square commemorates his bravery. Another statue records the career of another Partida, Anatolio, "the valiant general who led the San José Division in the Cristero movement 1927-1929. One of his colonels was a certain Honorato González. Anatolio died in 1978 when the Cristero revolt was a distant memory in the nation's capital, but no in San José.

Statue of Anatolio Partida

Most Mexican towns have an obligatory statue of a national hero celebrated in the textbooks. Not so in San José de Gracia. Here, many are considered malign outside influences. San José honours those who have defended, or done important things for, the town. Two bronze statues are devoted to men who defended San José in battle, complete with rifle and belt of bullets. Two González ancestors flank the church. One is the grandfather of don Luis who met President Porfirio Díaz to persuade him to separate the town from Mazamitla’s control. The other is the uncle and priest who sent young Luis to school in Guadalajara. Luis himself stands opposite the church.