Acolman

Acolman is the site of the first monastery built in Mexico. Remember that Cortes landed at Veracruz in 1519 and occupied Tenochtitlan by 1521. Franciscan missionary friars began Acolman in 1536, and Augustinians finished it around 1560. The earliest colonial period, the era of collision between two (or one vs. multiple) vastly different world views, is the most fascinating to me, especially the role of the missionary friars, whose profound impact on Mexico extends from colonization into modern times, in ways big and small. In artesanía, for example. Certain pueblos specialize in a particular craft that was first taught to the local people by the friars who served in that area. Fray Juan de Valencia taught people how to mix amaranth and other grains and nuts with honey. The people who first tried it were so delighted that they started dancing for joy, and the concoction is called today alegrías (joy). Vendors sell them all over Mexico.

The friars also sought to impart Catholic doctrine in ways that the people would understand and embrace.
They introduced the piñata, shaped like a seven-pointed star (each point representing one of the seven cardinal sins), filled with treats. They taught the natives that the stick they used to break the piñata was like the power of God to overcome sin and the goodies that fell out were the rewards of resisting sin. The piñata has certainly endured, and Mexicans know the symbolism even if that was lost as the piñata crossed the border. This sculpture of a blindfolded friar striking a piñata is in Acolman, near the monastery.

My interest in this topic was piqued on our first trip to Mexico in 1972 when I saw a cross in front of the church in Tepotzotlan. A coiled rattlesnake was carved at its base. The rattlesnake is a sacred symbol associated with Quetzalcoatl, the god legend said would return some day; Moctezuma famously thought Cortes might be that god, a belief with disastous consequences for his people.

That cross was the first of many examples of syncretism, the melding of religious beliefs. As native artisans built the churches and carved the symbols of Christianity, they included their own sacred symbols. Was this encouraged by the friars? These mixed symbols are so ubiquitous that I think the answer is yes. And Mexican Catholicism is rich with customs that point to a pre-Christian origin.

But back to Acolman. I found it impressive in its simplicity; I could easily imagine the work of the friars in this place as they taught not only their religion but also their language (remnants of writing, with beautifully ornate lettering, can be seen in borders along the tops of walls) and skills of artisanship to give the native population at least some means of livelihood in their changed world. We could not enter the church because a funeral mass was being celebrated, but the music of the mass resonating through the thick monastery walls made our visit even more enjoyable.

Months later, I visited the Antiguo Colegio de San Ildefonso in Mexico City. This mural by Orozco in a stairwell of the school shows a friar embracing an emaciated indigenous, a moving image of the conquest.

Mariposas Monarcas

The fluttering of one butterfly’s wings - so gentle, so soft – is, of course, inaudible. If you’re very quiet, however, and in the presence of millions of monarchs high in the hills of the Rosario Sanctuary, you can hear a sound like a slight breeze stirring leaves, and you know you have heard butterflies. Bill and I were there in January, when the monarchs were hibernating, hanging in great clusters in the tall Oyamel firs. This weekend I went back with Edith, Ceci, Cati and Amparo.
In February we can see the mariposas leaving their clusters to fly around and mate before their long journey north begins in March. They perch on some smaller trees like so many orange Christmas ornaments, or catch a current and fly up, contrasting with the bright blue sky, or land in a wet spot to drink, or alight on yellow, red, and lavender flowers in their forest. It is indeed their forest; they move through their domain as schools of fish do through the sea, and we humans observe in awe, knowing that we are witnessing an ancient, mysterious, and endangered phenomenon.

Local people have known about this marvel of nature for thousands of years, and the Monarch has been an important symbol in their mythology and rituals. In the 1970's National Geographic published an article about the "discovery" of the over-wintering grounds of the Monarch, and the rest of North America got in on the secret.

Across all of North America, not just in Mexico, population growth,
deforestation, and wide-spread use of herbicides threaten the Monarch. You can find further details about their migration on the Feb. 4 entry.

Beaches, Crocodiles, and Monarchs

During December and January we traveled a lot, sometimes by bus and sometimes by car. Bus travel in Mexico is quite comfortable, reasonable, and convenient. Buses go everywhere, even to remote places, and major destinations are serviced by multiple schedules. We took an overnight bus to Puerto Vallarta; it was a full size bus with only 24 fully-reclinable seats with foot rests. Sleeping on the bus gave us an extra day at the beach, not a bad trade-off. Our son Dan met us there and we had a very relaxing week on the beach. After the over-stimulation of Mexico City, I did nothing but relax on the beach; Bill and Dan went scuba diving and saw humpback whales en route.

In January we spent a week full of good memories in Mazatlan (beach scene 1) and traveled north to check out San Carlos (beach scene 2). And finally we made it to Zihuatanejo, so far my favorite Mexican beach, beautiful and still wild enough to have a crocodile cross over from his lagoon to the bay each night. (last 3 beach scenes)

We did the Mazatlan - San Carlos trip in Rocinante, so we were able to take the Mil Cumbres (1000 peaks) scenic route along the old road between Morelia - Toluca - Mexico City.
Old Roci was in her glory, since we had to use four wheel drive to maneuver the last few miles into the El Rosario Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary. Tens of millions of Monarchs migrate from Canada and the U.S. in November to hibernate in this particular corner of Mexico until the warmer sun of February stirs them to flutter around and mate. In March they head back north and lay their eggs on milkweed plants in the southwest before dying. These eggs hatch and go through their metamorphosis, and the fragile, beautiful butterflies fly further north, mate, lay eggs and die - all within 6-8 weeks. Two more generations complete their cycle and continue even further north into our part of the world, and Monarchs of the fourth generation, those who have made it to the far north (who live 6-8 months) find their way back to Mexico, where the multi-generational, amazing saga continues. You can find more information at this site: http://www.units.muohio.edu/dragonfly/cycle/butterflylinks.htmlx

The Megamarcha; "Sin maíz no hay país."

Early this week some campesinos (farmers) brought cows and bales of hay to the Monumento a la Revolución and gave away free milk to protest low milk prices. Later in the week tractors gathered near Chapultepec and we started hearing about a megamarch of campesinos scheduled for Thursday to end, as all manifestaciones do, in the Zócalo.




This march was truly mega. It began at the Angel de Independencia, came up the Reforma, then down Juárez (where we watched it for about an hour and a half) and ended in the Zócalo. Tractors, loaded with campesinos and covered with posters, led the way, followed by thousands and thosands of people, organized by state, marching, carrying banners and chanting: "sin maíz no hay país" (without corn there is no country) and "el pueblo, unido, jamás será vencido" (the people, united, will never be defeated). People along the sidewalks shouted back, "No están solos." (You are not alone). Everyone recognizes the vital importance of agriculture to Mexico, the land that domesticated corn eons ago, a feat of astounding ingenuity.


Now Mexico imports corn from the United States, and campesinos fear that the Free Trade Agreement (el Tratado de Libre Comercio - TLC) will have disastrous effects. A particularly chilling poster that we saw often was of a vertical ear of corn in the shape of a nuclear bomb bearing the letters E.U. (Estados Unidos, USA) and aiming directly for Mexico. The campesinos are strongly against genetically modified products and they feel threatened by subsidized U.S. agriculture. Specifically, they want the government of President Felipe Calderon to renegotiate a section of NAFTA that opened the door to the importation of corn, beans, sugar and powdered milk. Someone handed us a flyer stating that with the massive introduction of U.S. products, Mexican agriculture will literally be broken, leaving millions of campesinos without work and increasing migration from the country to the city and abroad. The U. S. ambassador issued a statement that Mexican exports have quintupled since NAFTA.




Driving across Mexico, we've seen small farms like this one in Ancangueo and huge, modern agrobusiness. The climate allows for year-round farming. We bought strawberries at roadside stands near Guanajuato the first of November and yesterday Feb. 1, saw them again. The various climactic zones allow for the production of a huge variety of vegetables and fruits, some I've never seen before.

The Mexican people, accustomed to disagreeing with their own government, do not show anti-Americanism to individual Americans, even as they protest against policies that involve the U.S. Although police lined the sidewalks by the Sheraton, near our apartment, we did not feel threatened.

If you're interested in this topic, you can find an interesting read at http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/11/opinion/11mon4.html?_r=1&th&emc=th&oref=slogin