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. 

Escape from Mixquiahuala

Dancers at Sept. 16th Celebration

Last I left you, dear reader, we were headed to an Air B and B in Mixquiahuala about a 20 minute bus ride from Tepatepec, depending on traffic. In Tepa, there is barely anything you could call traffic. But once you leave there, traveling for a while along a highway lined with beautiful fields and a view of the nearby mountains, you hit Progreso. Progreso is where we looked at the mini mausoleum apartment. It's not a pretty town and it's always jammed with cars. Then you enter Mixquiahuala, which is even worse. Our Air B and B, as it turns out, overlooked the main drag of Mixquiahuala - loud and congested at all hours of the day and night in a city of merely 30,000 people. The B and B was nice at first glance, then the odor hit us. Like...sewer odor...emitting from the bathroom. Overall, the place was kind of shabby if you want to know the truth. At night, barking dogs added to the general din. At least it had decent wifi, and a washing machine. Sigh. We did not relish spending 3 weeks there. Fortunately, the night before, after dinner at the home of the parents of Rico my school coordinator, at which we had the traditional and delicious dish of this time of year in Mexico, chiles en nogada, we went to see a house that this guy named Marco had for rent.

Chiles en Nogada

Stairway in Our "New" Home

Let me back up. It was Thursday, Sept. 8th. I had gone to the bank to open an account which took two hours. Don't ask me why. I left Jon at our favorite little cafe in Tepa where you can get a decent coffee and a dang good burger. When I came back to get him, I found him yukking it up with two guys who had joined him at his table, making themselves understood with a mixture of English and Spanish. One was Marco, the owner of the cafe, the other his partner in the mining business. Marco told us, once he found out we were looking for a place, that he had a house that had been sitting vacant for 3 years, and would we like to see it. Well duh. So we went to take a look the next day after the dinner with Rico's parents. It's a cool little place, though it was full of junk and needed a good cleaning. We could see it had potential for sure. Also, it has one and a half bathrooms! To have an extra bathroom in this part of Mexico is a miracle in itself. The next morning we went to look at two apartments that didn't even compare to the house. They also needed to be cleaned out, and would need a lot of work from us - not worth it: only one bathroom. Now, let me just explain that when I say the house has two bathrooms, these are two bathrooms without doors. There are openings for doors, but no doorframes. I guess they always used curtains. Also, FYI, though it has three bedrooms on the second floor, they have no doors either. Apparently, Marco lived here with his family until he and his wife split up. They must have been a cozy family until then. Anyway, he moved out because it had too many memories for him (he has at least retained the custody of his children). But wait, the story gets sadder. He then had a relationship with the Peace Corps worker who was here for two years doing the job I have, teaching English at the nearby university. When she left, she had every intention of coming back. Then the Pandemic hit. She had left all her stuff behind which he ended up storing in the house. Needless to say, she never did come back. Poor Marco! (No, really.) Anyway, the house boasts a brand new and very fancy fridge, a very nice new stove, a beautiful, new sectional sofa, a dining set, and the new mattress that Ms. Peace Corps left behind. We decided we could work with that. 

Upstairs Bank of Windows (the green part is a screen)

In the ensuing week while we moldered away in Mixquiahuala, taking the bus to the university or riding the "Combi," a local armada of white vans that provide you with a hot, windy ride if you don't have the patience to wait for the bus, Marco cleaned out and cleaned up the house. Then yesterday, after waiting all day, enduring the odor of the B and B, Marco came to get us in his SUV and transported us and our many suitcases to our new house. Boy, it still needs a lot of work, but we've dealt with worse. 

A few other highlights to mention before I go: Mexican Independence Day on Sept. 16th and a wild party at my school complete with posole and roasted goat tacos - the meat straight from the pot where the goat's head still resided; market day in Tepa on Sunday when the whole town comes alive with vendors of every culinary delight you can think of, plus clothes, shoes, hardware, dishware, etc; being in the classroom at last with some terrific students and teachers; and getting to zoom with some brilliant Mexican women who are interested in helping me get my literary project off the ground.

Phenomenal Posole

A Blessing in Mixquiahula

Finally, to be fair to Mixquiahuala, the people there are as lovely and kind as can be. We just couldn't wait to get out.