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.