Love Letter to Tepa

The daily marketplace - photo credit: El Morro de las fotos

Dear Tepa,

How can I find the words to thank you for all you've been to me, to us, these past eight months? When I first found out I was going to be placed in Tepatepec, Hidalgo, I was a little confounded. I immediately looked you up on the map to find that you barely existed there. I discovered a few photos, and you looked...cute, but very small, and very rural. So I visited you on Google Earth, and with Jon, roamed along your streets to see...yes, a very small and quiet town - clean though, and rather colorful - with a sweet little plaza in the middle and a very pretty church. 

Tianguis day

Nothing could have prepared us for the reality of how lovely you were. That first week we were staying at a small house on the university campus so we had to come to you to get supplies by walking that mile and a half, or taking the Combi. The first day we visited, we were pleased to find that you offered plenty of shops and one or two small grocery stores where we could get what we needed. The second time we came, we were met with an explosion of activity and color in the form of your Sunday street market - or tianguis. This was probably the first moment we fell in love with you. Everything was so fascinating, so alive - the people so friendly. 

The walk to school

Then, after we spent a couple of weeks in the misery that was nearby Mixquiahuala, we definitely realized how special you were and how important it was going to be to find a house within your environs and not in one of the other towns 20 or so minutes away that were, honestly, not so special. We were lucky to find our little house right near your town center, though it needed a lot of TLC, furniture, dishes and such, and our own artwork - all of it a labor of love. And all the while, we were exploring what you had to offer, feeling more and more grateful to know you. 

We were also surprised to learn, both through experience and word of mouth, that you are a progressive place, an open-minded community that is accepting of all. We wondered why such would be the case in this out-of-the-way rural town until we were told that you are a community of teachers. It makes sense with the nearby university, but, I mean, generations of teachers  - because the university was once a college that taught teachers. This is why your people have a fairly high education level in general, and why one finds so many deep thinkers here. This fact was made all the more clear to me one day when I witnessed a solemn parade of hundreds of middle-aged to older people, walking through the streets all dressed in white shirts and navy slacks or skirts. People on the sidewalk stood in deference as they passed. I asked who they were and someone told me they were retired teachers. To see so many teachers, respectful and respected, honored in that way, drove it all home: this place is different. 

The original university building.
The flag represents its name: El Mexe, which
means spider in hñahñu.

As I walk around your streets now, I'm just trying to soak you in so that I never forget anything. 

Every smell: ripe mangos, tortillas on the grill, freshly baked pastries, corn stalks burning, dust, lavender, clean meat markets, chicken roasting, tacos and gorditas and chicharrones.

Every sound: music coming from everywhere, dogs barking, vendors hawking, birds chirping, cars and machinery, construction, chatter, and thunder.

Every sight: the humble buildings, the tents of the tianguis, the colorful fruits and vegetables, the shining clean, new indoor marketplace, smiles, old faces, young faces, the modern and traditional builings of the university, trees (mesquite, palm, pine, cypress, jacaranda), fields, corn, sunflowers, alfalfa, lavender, cactus, hills, and sky.

Sprouting corn in the field

Every taste:

Candies made with the natural sugar piloncillo; all the fruits, roasted plantains, fresh gorditas, tacos al Pastor, chilaquiles, enchiladas with salsa verde, freshly squeezed orange juice, the excellent steak or caesar salad from the only fancy restaurant in town, and the very best food in the world: a fresh, hot corn tortilla right off the grill. 

Every person that I've come to love: each dear friend, the families who've treated us like their own, the little man with the wide smile who sells nopales, the lovely Beni who sells meat, sweet Rocío who sells nuts, Imelda the chatty salon lady, the kind women who make and sell tortillas, Doña Aurelia who cleans our house with such care, the people at the pharmacy and in the shops, Lorena with her little health food store, the Combi drivers, the lady who sells eggs, the gentleman and his family who sell sweets, the señor cleaning the town square who greets us every morning, the orange juice guy who taught us our first word of hñahñu, the teachers and students, and so many more. 

Wall of flowers

I will miss you beyond words, but it doesn't have to be forever. We'd like to have a place to come back to if it's possible to arrange that, and in which to welcome friends who want to visit as well. At the very least, you offer a nice, clean little hotel. The point is, you are such a wonderful place from which to strike out and see some of the marvels Hidalgo has to offer: the archeological site of Tula, the town of Actópan with its beautiful monastery, the Grutas of Tolantongo, the nearby mural town of Morelos, three of your state's Magical Pueblos, and much more. I hope that people also come just to see and experience you. But I hope they don't come with the attitudes of the typical tourist, or disrespect you in any way. You are not a resort town, where people order around the help (though they shouldn't) or expect the locals to conform to their foreign ways (which is obnoxious). You deserve the ultimate deference and respect. You are fragile. You must be preserved so that the people of your community don't have to adapt to the outside world. It's our job to adapt to you. 

Beautiful, sweet, vibrant Tepatepec - please never change. You are all you need to be. 

I love you with all my heart. 

Painting of Frida and Diego on a tree. 

Travel Fever Part 2 - Magic and More Magic

Tajin, Veracruz

This may be a long one because there’s a lot to cover, starting with our trip to the beach town of Tecolutla, Veracruz. As normally happens when one has a long weekend planned specifically for a beach trip, it rained. And it was cold. The weather app had informed us as such ahead of time but there was no replanning. Carolina was taking Friday off, and we were both off from school on Monday, and she was the one driving. There was no opting for a different weekend. Her 9-year-old son went along as navigator, and we left Tepa merrily at about 11:00 am on Friday, March 17th. The drive was spectacular once we were a ways past Pachuca, the scenery mountainous and forested. The views were sweeping as we drove past peaks and crags carpeted with pine, then into the orange groves of Veracruz. Almost as soon as we crossed the border from Hidalgo (and a slice of Puebla) into the state of Veracruz, the air became humid and beachy. The scenery became more tropical - every vista more beautiful than the last. 

Tropical Flora of Veracruz
Photo Jon Ellis

All in all, the drive was about 4 hours to a town that ran alongside a massive river. Following the river, we eventually came to Tecolutla - kind of a shabby little beach berg if I'm being honest, where the rain clouds loured. Carolina herself remarked that the town seemed to have deteriorated since she was last there seven years ago. Our hotel was nice though, with a lovely indoor pool which we might have indulged in except for the fact that it was filled with screaming kids, and, as a result, probably pee. It was Carolina's son, in fact, who theorized that the water was probably made up of about 50% pee. He was not about to set foot in it. Of course, the great number of children in the pool was due to the fact that it was cold, windy, and rainy outside, and so all the families, who, like us, had planned their beach getaways, were making do with the hotel pool. 

Our Hotel

In lieu of that option, we went out and found some dinner, and once we wandered around for a while, realized Tecolutla had a bit of charm after all. At least the people there, Mexican tourists mostly, slogging around freezing to death in their beach wear, were determined to make the best of it. In fact, when we went down to the beach to take a look, we observed a stalwart few in the water or huddled under cabanas on the debris-strewn shore. No thank you. 

The cool, cloudy weather turned out to be a blessing while tromping around the next day in Tajin, an archeological site about 40 minutes from Tecolutla where it is thought that the Olmec peoples, along with possibly other civilizations, lived, starting from about 1200 years ago. Though the pictures won't do it justice, this site exuded that mystical essence that we've absorbed from the other archeological wonders we've visited here in Mexico. It's that sense that a great people once lived here: a great, and maybe terrible civilization of sacrifices and bloodshed, but also of a deep spirituality. You can feel it in the air. 

Small Child, Big Pyramid

We decided to cut our trip short by a day since the weather wasn't improving, and on Sunday headed back to Tepa. You know me - as much as I love it in principle, a sun-drenched beach vacay isn't really ideal for someone of my complexion anyway, though of course I was armed with my total-body-coverage swimsuit. It didn't matter after all. We loved every minute of the trip - especially being in the company of the awesome Carolina and her smart-as-a-whip son. 

The following weekend brought us Cecilia. Ah, Cecilia - a legend in my family due to her beauty, wit, and kindness. She has been one of my best friends since we were fifteen and I went to Mexico City for the summer to live with her family. The following summer she came to stay with us, and from those two experiences, our bond was cemented. There's so much more to say about her and her family, whom I love as if they were my own, but it's too much to encompass here. Anyway, there have been years at a time when we either lost track of each other or communication ceased for one reason or another, but we always pick it right back up again the moment we see each other - and the last time was 5 years ago. 

This time, she came up to Tepa for two days, most of which we spent gabbing and gabbing, in Spanish and English, and catching up. Saturday morning, we decided to check out a place very nearby Tepa that Jon and I had been meaning to go to since we got here. The place is simply called, "Lugar de los murales." Or "the mural place." We had a local taxi take us the 10 minutes or so up the highway to where the sign points off to the east, past farmland, to, let's just say, a miracle. In the tiny Colonia de Morelos, someone, at some point had the idea to start a mural project. I don't know when it started or if artists still come to paint, but, essentially, the whole town is covered, wall after wall, block after block, with world-class mural art, most of it Mexican in style and nature. We are particularly interested in projects like this because, 13 years ago, when we lived in Astoria Queens, Jon had the brainchild to have the many industrial walls of our neighborhood painted with murals in order to cover up the graffiti tags. We asked our dear friends, artists and activists Savitri D and Bill Talen if they knew muralists who would be interested in painting the walls. They put us in touch with a collective called Ad Hoc Art, which took up the challenge. Now, all these years later, blocks and blocks of our old neighborhood in Queens continue to be adorned with new and innovative art pieces thanks to Alison Wallis, who keeps the Welling Court Mural Project going. Who knew there was another such wonder of creativity and ingenuity just 10 minutes away from us right here in Mexico? And it was a thrill to discover it with Cecilia. 

                                                        

"Our Right"

And now for our trip to Oaxaca City. Mostly, I'll let the pictures do the talking and, hopefully, you'll see why we wished we had had more time to spend there. In fact, we could have spent weeks. But our cat and our general attachment to Tepa dictated we only take three days. I know that I’m overusing the word “magical” when talking about Mexico in general, but if there’s any place we’ve visited that deserves the adjective, it’s Oaxaca: colorful buildings, cobblestone streets, marketplace after marketplace, great restaurants, amazing food everywhere you go, nightlife, and art, and a general hipness that is amazingly unpretentious. Overall, it encompasses more of what Mexico is about than our little town, including the people begging on the streets, an encampment of teachers occupying a busy intersection in protest of unfair wages, outskirts of big box stores and cineplexes, and a clear delineation of rich and poor. We don't see much of any of that in Tepa.

Yet, while we were impacted by those realities, we still played the good tourists, eating our way through those first few days of Holy Week, taking in all the markets, visiting the cute neighborhoods, plus the archeological site of Monte Albán, buying a few artisanal treasures, and generally just soaking it in. And talk about mural art – it’s everywhere, and it’s great. Yes, our time there was too short, but we will be back – not this visit – we have less than two months here and it won’t include another trip to Oaxaca, but another time for sure. 

Mexico will inevitably call us back. We are invested in the magic of this place. Call it a spell if you like, but, whatever it is, we are definitely under it. 

 Colorful Streets:

Photo Jon Ellis

Santo Domingo Church:

Photo Jon Ellis

View from Rooftop Restaurant of Santo Domingo Square:

Incredible Murals:

Photo Jon Ellis

Photo Jon Ellis

Museum of Contemporary Art:

Photo Jon Ellis

Photo Jon Ellis

Quirky Art Piece:

Photo Jon Ellis

Monte Albán, or Miquizli in the native language:

Jacaranda Tree in Bloom:

Restful Courtyards:

Photo Jon Ellis

Typical Oaxacan Food: A Tlayuda and Chili-grilled Pork, and the famous Mole Negro:

Photo Jon Ellis