Final Farewell

This will be my last post, as we leave tomorrow. At first, it seemed we had all the time in the world here, and then it flew by so fast it took my breath away. My heart is heavy with the goodbyes, but full with the thought of seeing home and loved ones. We went through a transition as of late, and I think I can speak for both me and Jon in this. As we started to adjust to the fact, sometime in April, that we had less than two months left, we began to accept the inevitable. This entailed starting to pack. Yes, even as early as April. After we got back from Oaxaca, we took one big suitcase down from the shelf and slowly began adding things we wouldn't need here anymore, like winter clothes, and some of the items we'd been collecting to bring home for ourselves and for gifts. That sort of made it official. 

Then we relaxed into some of the activities we had planned for the spring. School started back up after Holy Week - sort of - meaning I didn't do much teaching in April since teachers were giving evaluations during the second week, and in the third and fourth any students who didn't have exams or work to complete had the time off. The teachers not so much, but there wasn't a lot for me to do. I attended a meeting or two, offered time for folks to come chat with me in English in the office, and tried to keep my writing workshop going. I'm afraid to say that was a bust. Carolina, the person who ran the workshop with me, got super busy, and, since most of the participants were her students, they were occupied with all the tasks she had for them. And so I finally decided that those who wanted credit for the workshop needed to submit their projects to me, and I would evaluate them one on one. Here is a link to the blog I created to showcase those works. Click on the links of writers' names on the right to see all the projects. I did my best to translate most into English, hopefully without losing the essence. There are not as many as I'd hoped, but those I received gave me a clear view into the female, Mexican, literary voice in this region. That voice is very connected to home, family, and friends. Even Carolina, a Ph.D. in Chemistry and one of the most brilliant people I know, for her contribution, wrote a small book of recipes, translated into English by me, and which will eventually include the hñahñu translation as well. In other words, it's a work in progress. 

Some of our dearest friends here - a
beautiful and loving family. 

In general, the submissions were quite moving. One young woman wrote about losing a baby, another wrote a memoir devoted to her small child, another a funny sort of gossip column about her and her friends, and yet another wrote the beautiful tribute to her deceased mother that I've spoken of before. Another began keeping a diary, but her entries were too personal to share. I've included the note she wrote, in which she talks about what it meant to her to have the opportunity to express herself like she never has before. To me, these projects indicate that home and community are of greatest interest to the women here, and I honor that. This differs substantially from what well-established Mexican female writers are publishing right now - much of which is focused on the border and other difficult issues taking place in Mexico. I appreciate that the women I've been able to connect with in this region are not looking so far afield. They are concerned with the love and safety of those around them. 

Before I share some of those other spring activities I mentioned, I want to talk a bit about Mexico and the realities of life here. I tend to enthuse about all that is wonderful, but it's important to remember the hard things as well. I have mentioned some of these topics before, but to go into more detail... 

Many children work - and I mean little children. I don't know if there are laws against it here, but if there are, they are not enforced. For instance, there are two small boys who strum guitars - without actually knowing how to play them - at the traffic light that connects the road to the university with a highway. It's a big, dangerous intersection, and they're out there all day, trying to collect a peso or two from the cars that stop at the light. I think their mother or older sister keeps an eye on them by selling candy. Other children work in the daily marketplace or the Sunday street market with their parents, learning how to loudly hawk their wares. Some of them, teenagers, are my students. They're making a living; that's ok. But the really young ones...are they in school? Definitely not the boys playing guitar at the traffic light. 

And the dogs. So many dogs. They wander the street all day, laying down anywhere they please in the heat, completely collapsed. Some clearly belong to someone somewhere, others are strays, especially the ones at the university. It's so sad to see a skinny mama dog, teats full, trying to find a meal. I wish they were at least spayed and neutered but most are not. You really gotta learn to harden yourself against it or you'd be feeding dogs all day and night, and making plenty of canine friends. They are very cute and sweet - not a one is aggressive - and I wish I could take them all home. 

Many of the taxi drivers, with grand biblical names like Melquiades, Ismael, and Jesús, speak of their experiences of having worked in the States: of pesticide poisoning from working in the fields, long separations from families, and the humiliation of being deported. Still, many would risk it again because the money is so much more than they can make in Mexico, driving a taxi or doing anything else. 

The poverty: it's easy to turn a blind eye to it, but many homes here are hovels or shacks. There are a lot of places sort of half-finished - even the nicer ones. So, while there are some magnificent homes and haciendas here and there, there are often little tumbled-down houses right next to them. Many people eke out a living however they can - often with more than one endeavor. The lucky ones have a stall in the market - I don't know how they acquired them - maybe they are passed on one generation to the next like the houses. The really lucky ones have an actual storefront, though they close at all kinds of odd hours. One thing is for certain, most people work their butts off day and night, and yet they find the time for plenty of celebration, and are filled with a love of life that is contagious. 

Hazards: holes in the sidewalks - some actual pits - and endless cut-outs for driveways that can be as much as a two-foot drop, overhead awnings that hang low, electrical boxes that jut out from walls at about head height, piles of gravel in the streets, unprotected construction sites: things that in the U.S. would be lawsuits waiting to happen. Here, you better just be careful because no one is going to pay for injuries incurred.

Cooking With Squash Flowers

Food: It's pretty cheap, at least from our perspective. You can get a couple dozen delicious, freshly-made corn tortillas for about 50 cents. There are tons of tortillerías, where the work is hot and hard, the tortilleras on their feet all day, but it's probably fairly lucrative as people buy them continuously. I thought the tortillas were a good, inexpensive source of nutrition for poor families until Carolina pointed out that if you have a family of six, you need at least sixty tortillas a day, which comes out to a little less than three bucks. That doesn't sound like much, but if you only make ten bucks a day, that's a lot of your budget going to food, and it's definitely not all the food you'll need. That's one reason people here rely on what grows naturally like nopal cactuses (prickly pear), squash blossoms, the malva plant, and the flowers of the maguey (agave), also home to small worms called chinicuiles that are much sought-after. Folks also eat crickets, grasshoppers, and ant eggs, which are delicious. I've tried the grasshoppers, but not the worms - I just can't. This is only a fraction of the local produce that comes directly from the uncultivated soil, and people in this region have been living off it for millennia. 

Our house: to have hot water we must turn on the boiler and light the pilot every morning. We turn it off after we shower so as to not waste gas. As a result, we do not have hot water all day on demand. And to have water at all, we need to turn on the pump a couple of times a day, but even that doesn't always do it. In general, the plumbing is iffy. Many of the lightbulb sockets don't work. The floor tiles are stained and a little uneven. The kitchen sink just sits on a metal stand. It's freezing downstairs in the winter, and hot upstairs in the summer. There is no water pressure. The occasional scorpion wanders in. 

Health: we both feel much healthier here than in the States. We often walk at least 5 miles a day and are feeling really fit. That said, we've both been violently sick to our stomachs more than once - obviously something we ate that wasn't well washed or that contained something we couldn't tolerate. Also, we had COVID in October for the first, and hopefully last, time. People here seem to age more quickly than in the States, and those our age seem older than us. Many people don't get vaccinated and diseases like Polio are still a thing.

The Beautiful Valle del Mezquital

This region: I believe I've mentioned it is called El Valle del Mezquital, or The Mezquital Valley, which covers about 2,700 square miles, and encompasses many small and larger towns. Though it is a fairly poor region, there are people who have thrived and gotten rich here, as people do everywhere, and in some areas, like Tepa, as I've mentioned, it's a fairly educated population. It is beautiful - not beautiful like the rolling hills of Tuscany, or the fields of France - not like the soaring Alps or Rockies, or the wonders of Asia, or the prairies with their amber waves of grain. It's partially high desert, partially irrigated fields of corn and other crops, emerald green under the intense sky. There are dramatic rock formations and lots of natural hot springs. It's out of the way and not well known by tourists, but it's a place I have come to cherish. It's rough and it's scrappy but stuffed full of history and the indigenous Otomí cultures that encompass many sub-cultures, especially that of the hñahñu. Everyone here knows a few words of the language, especially the greeting of Good Morning: Axajua! 

The green part is the state of Hidalgo and the
brown indicates where in Hidalgo the 
Valle del Mezquital is located.

And now for the fun stuff we've done in the past month or so:

We went to another magical town, called Mineral del Chico, in the mountains above Pachuca. Now, we've been to all three magical towns in Hidalgo. The pictures speak for themselves.

Mineral del Chico

Cecilia came to visit again, to do one of her sensational, motivational talks for the staff and friends of the fancy restaurant here, commissioned by the owner. We can't get enough of spending time with her though we only had her for 24 hours. 

Jon at Tlaco

Tlaco

For our anniversary we went to a place called Tlaco, where you can enjoy hot, naturally occurring mineral pools, another gem of the Valle del Mezquital. It's on the road to Ixmiquilpan, the last big town before Las Grutas de Tolontango, which I wrote about previously. That whole area is full of these hot springs, some more beautiful than others though Tolantongo and Tlaco are among the best. It was about a month ago that we traveled to Ixmiquilpan just to go to the tianguis - street market - because we were looking for a tablecloth and were told they had the best artisanal products there.  They don't, and we didn't find one. However, the trip back, via Actopan, was simply spectacular and now I'm glad we took the long journey with no resulting tablecloth because we got to see more of the glory of the valley.

Speaking of Actopan, on the American Mother's Day (because Mexico's is the 10th), we went to find some boots for me, as we knew of a shop there. I decided against the boots, but we ate at our favorite place in that town, El Itacate, a restaurant that features local and indigenous specialties like the foods I mentioned above. Jon even had a cocktail made of cactus fruit and mezcal, and we shared a gordita with escamol, or ant eggs. Everything was so, so, good. 

There was a huge parade in San Agustín on May 16th, wherein all the teachers and students from every institution in town, including the retired professors, marched to celebrate Teacher's Day, which was the day before. San Agustín's unofficial slogan is "San Agustín, the Cradle of Education," which is completely apt. I took part in the parade, very impressed and inspired by the respect this place shows for educators. There were also dinners for the teachers two days in a row, and, at the one I attended, we were treated to wonderful Mariachis. When there are Mariachis at a party, you know it's a real party. 

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Lining Up for the Parade

On the 19th we went to a Charreada, basically a rodeo, in a huge horse arena here in Tepa. We thought there would be more pageantry, but it was really just a skills competition for local horsemen and women. Not that fascinating to us, but a valuable cultural experience. 

On the 20th, we threw a party for our friends here, to thank them for their friendship, generosity, and love. Our neighbors, also our good friends, helped us organize it, and a great time was had by all. 

On the 25th, taxi driver Jesús drove us into the mountains above Actopan to see the rock formations known as Los Frailes (the friars) up close. It was a gorgeous drive into forested peaks, topped by those amazing crags. Briefly, here's the sexy legend of Los Frailes, and another cluster of rock formations several miles off called Las Monjas (the nuns): A group of friars was traveling from the convent in Actopan to Mineral del Chico. A group of nuns was traveling from Mineral del Chico to Actopan. When the two groups met in the mountains, they indulged in some illicit activity. As a result, God turned them to stone, and charged them to watch over the Valle del Mezquital for all eternity. Uy.

At El Itacate - the hñahñu word for food

Getting back to our day: Jesús was so kind and attentive, explaining more interesting facts about the area, and finally delivering us to a gem of a lake, nestled into a small valley, just past the tiny town of San Jerónimo. We took a brief hike around the lake, enjoying the fresh mountain air. He then took us by his house where he gave Jon some crystals he had collected over the years, as they are both avid rock collectors. Sure, we paid him for his time and the ride, but there is no repaying such kindness. We vowed to keep in touch via Whatsapp - another friend from Hidalgo. Jon and I ended the morning with a delicious lunch at El Itacate. 

Our last Friday in town we had dinner with a couple we met at the Sunday tianguis several months ago, selling their wares of used clothing and tools. The evening they came over we feasted together on chicken with green mole, and lasagna - a combination that strangely worked. The two of them live a humble life but are so full of spirit and humor. When we'd come upon their little stall, we'd sometimes buy a few things and she and I would chat and laugh. She was so generous, always wanting to give things away to us. They are both treasures of the Otomí bloodline, lovely people who have become good friends.

The Daily Marketplace

Over the same weekend, San Agustín came alive with a fair, complete with rides, and booths selling candy, pan dulce, jewelry, toys and more. On Sunday, the tianguis expanded around the fair, which had taken over the center of town. People come from the surrounding area for the tianguis every week, but the fair brought more folks streaming in. The celebration culminated in the anniversary of the daily marketplace, which is today, May 31st, complete with Mariachis, of course. The building has recently been renovated and beautified, and it's one of my favorite places, where we've gotten to know many of the vendors. 

Universidad Politécnica Francisco I. Madero

Monday, a woman who participated in my writing workshop virtually, Daiset, came on a last-minute visit with her partner Rina from Mexico City. It was a joy to meet them both in person, in particular Daiset because she and I had clicked from our first zoom call, and, in the interim, she has written some amazing stuff. Check out that blog link above to see only a small sample of her brilliance. 

Tuesday the school threw a farewell party for me - an entire catered breakfast complete with enchiladas, fruit, coffee and cake. Almost all the teachers I've worked with were there, as well as some of the administrators I've become close to. I will miss these people immensely. They are funny, smart, and extremely dedicated. I know we'll stay connected, though I almost broke down and sobbed after I said my final goodbyes and walked through the campus one last time. I've become very attached to the place. 

Last night we had a dinner of tacos dorados in the marketplace with our dear friend, Arlo, and another friend who is mentoring him as he begins the process of applying for a Ph.D. What a great night of conversation and wandering through the fair in Tepa.

Today, as I post this last entry, the final thoughts I'd like to share are of the ancient and deep mystery I feel throughout Hidalgo, and particularly in the Valle del Mezquital. You can sense it in many places in Mexico, but you have to be still, to soak it in. In fact, I had to be truly immersed in this region for these entire nine months to even begin to understand it. Beneath the charming or scrappy towns, bustling cities, and semi-arid land, I hear the ancestors speaking. They tell me this place is fragile and precious; it contains the heartbeat of venerable cultures that inform the way the population lives today; it needs to be preserved and honored; it possesses an enduring and majestic history that has produced a great and noble people. The culture has gotten under my skin, and the people have touched my heart beyond compare. I will be back - we will back. Until then, I will carry this place and its people in my heart. Adios San Agustín, adios Valle del Mezquital, adios Hidalgo, adios Mexico. Te adoro. 

Los Frailes