Brooms and Mops

Irish saying: A new broom sweeps clean, but the old broom knows the corners.

This year we spent nearly our entire six month Mexico trip in the highland interior, including the fine old cities of Queretaro, Mexico City ,Puebla and Oaxaca. We visited Cholula, Cuernavaca, Patzcuaro, and many smaller towns. Everywhere we watched people busily sweeping sidewalks, businesses and public buildings. Frankly, 20 years ago, many Mexican towns were not so tidy as they are today. Now it seems that the central areas of every town, modest or large, is proudly shipshape. It’s no wonder, people of all ages are sweeping and mopping constantly! 

Morning is the usual time for the first good sweep. In Jocotepec, whenever we had our 20-liter water jug filled at La Purisima in the morning, we’d be sure to see a woman sweeping the sidewalk fronting the home across the street.  If a home has a dirt yard in front, it will be raked or swept, too. Offices and public buildings may sweep a little later, but it’s routine to start the day with a broom. This is commonly followed by a soapy mopping. In a cooperative craft store in Oaxaca, we found all the artisans together sweeping up, and mop water flowing out the front door.                                                       

No matter how daunting, everything must be swept. At the Xochicalco ruins, south of Cuernavaca, I had to call out to compliment this guy - the pyramids were spotless!

Sweepers have to choose the proper location to store the broom or mop in case it’s needed it in a hurry. There’s not much sense in placing the broom where it would involve having to walk very far to get it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paracho shop -- Mexico City performer – Pueblo’s Cultural Center Poblano.

Oaxaca’s Santo Domingo Plaza – and closeup of broom made from traditional materials that blends well in this setting.

 

 

 

 

 

A public storage location can demonstrate diligence. Or maybe, old buildings just don’t have broom closets! Below, Oaxaca Santo Domingo Ex-Convent Museum –- Teotitlan Church made with stones from ancient ruins -– Patzcuaro Once Patios courtyard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Below, hoping they put the brooms away before the Tzintzuntzan Easter pageant began –- These folks in Jocotepec may simply be proud of their tools –- Who would put a mop in a dark, musty closet, when they dry best in the sun? Oaxaca Casa de la Cultura.

Traveling vendors bring brooms. During Easter in Patzcuaro, sweet tamale makers camp out in makeshift tents in Plaza San Francisco, where they steam the corn husk-wrapped treats over wood fires day and night. There they are in rows on the yellow tablecloth! -- A pottery display in Jocotepec. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Brooms and mops wear out. Fortunately, they’re sold everywhere in stylish bright colors, perfect for any location.

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the tienda near the toys –- 0n the street next to the avocados -– At the stationery/crafts store,next to their own handy green broom –- In kid sizes at the plaza – At the hardware store with the biggest selection –- And, handmade brooms on the street in Ajijic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And, to make the picture complete:

                                                             Our own handy broom.

 “Let everyone sweep in front of his own door, and the whole world will be clean.” (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, German Playwright, Poet, Novelist and Dramatist, 1749-1832)

Hasta la Vista, Mexico! We Must Depart.

We came back to Roca Azul almost a month ago, as a last stop before leaving Mexico. Our Roca Azul campsite has been muy tranquillo! Well, except for three simultaneous town celebrations last weekend: the Mexican victory over the French at the Battle of Puebla in 1862 (Cinco De Mayo to you-all up north!), the Señor del Jocotepec Huaje church festival, and a three-day Latin America motorcycle builder’s blowout at the malecon/lakeside park! I guess it’s our send-off of sorts.

The afternoon procession was somber, but many spectators were dressed for the parties to follow!





There’s a soft, cool breeze tonight. We’re the last of the seasonal campers here. The migrating winter birds have vanished. Local egrets and coots stalk the shallows.  




 

The sweet, doomed sheep that dined on weeds outside the Roca gate have met their fate. It’s just us, the songbirds’ morning cacophony, and the cows. They are happy cows, migrating daily between their feeding/milking pen and the lakeshore grass. This morning 18 big ladies had a fling, galumphing toward greener fields beyond Roca, cowboys on foot at their heels.






On Sunday we start our own migration north through Brownsville. Our six-month Mexico tourist card expires May 15. Again, it’s time to say Adios amigos! to Mexico and to our resident pals, who are all hoping the summer rains might, for once, be early. We end our fourth six-month trip to this fascinating country with the usual mix of regret and anticipation.
Since November, we’ve spent time in San Carlos, Mazatlan, Jocotepec, Queretaro, San Juan Teotihuacan, Mexico City, Cholula/Puebla, Oaxaca, Cuernavaca and Patzcuaro. Whew!
Stay tuned, we’ve still got stories to tell about Mexico, and tales about our stateside travels. WE HAVE PLANS … still developing. We’ll also recall our sailing years and spin those yarns for you, pulling them from our nautical journals for the first time.


Anonymous: Well, how did you start to RV Mexico?

We first came RV’ing to Mexico after we were flushed out of the New Orleans area by hurricane Katrina. In years past, we’d racked up over three years sailing the Mexico coast aboard La Mouette. In 2005, we’d been working in NOLA for seven years. Between May and Katrina’s onslaught in August, we sold our sailboat home and moved into the small trailer at left with plans to take a trip – then lost our jobs to high water before we could quit! We were suddenly on the road … and we liked it! After the first year we bought our Laredo 27, with comforts to exceed, in some ways, those of the boat - still our yardstick to measure many things!
Curious about the history of the Battle of Puebla and of Cinco de Mayo? Check out Mexico Bob's post!

A Walk to Jocotepec

 At last, the torrential 24-hour a day heavy rain may be lightening up! Everyone in a large swath of Mexico must be delighted. We've been so holed up that yesterday evening our neighbor Dave knocked on our door to see if we were ok! Today we'll do a little marketing.

The last time I picked up a few things was last Saturday afternoon, when I decided on a walk. I went out the campground gate, through the residential part of Roca Azul, and down the shortcut cobblestone road to the Jocotepec outskirts. My plan was to visit a tienda (neighborhood store) and buy some tomatoes. I wanted the exercise, so set a fairly brisk pace. Whew, after 45 minutes, I was glad to get there! I decided to settle for whatever the first tienda might have.

I bought several tomatoes, an avocado, two cucumbers, a jicama, 3 bananas and two tangerines for 18 pesos, about a dollar and a half, and began to walk home.

The last building in town is a church, and in the first field is a plastic tent where a portable milking machine sets up regularly for the nearby cows. Lots of folks are coming home on this road at 2 pm – I think work stops early on Saturday. An hombre on prancing black horse passed, with his kid behind the saddle. They’re pleased when I complement the horse, and give me a grin! Two more horses came along.

           On the left I passed a field with a white horse and a cow, a couple of plowed fields - one with a fine two-story house behind, a sign saying Rancho Macho, and a cobblestone lane with a stone wall.

A truckload of young women field workers going my way passed, too, waving and laughing gaily. Probably gossiping and planning a fun evening!

The town has dug a new ditch alongside the road to get ready for the rainy season, which begins in June. It’s accumulating many things. I saw plastic bottles, potato chip bags, computer brochures, a toilet, and a large dead dog, roughly wrapped in a blanket and black plastic sack. This I took as a respectful burial.

To the right is a raspberry field, then acreage where onions have been mostly harvested, and a Dole warehouse. It’s hot. A gringo I don’t know stopped to offer a ride, but I decline, I’m out for the exercise! I took a picture of a pretty row of trees.

Three trucks bounced toward town, guys crowded in each cab. I gave a wave and smile. Most everyone nodded or smiled back. Several people rode toward town on bikes. I saw only one person walking, a woman who was ahead of me when I first started toward town. I thought I’d overtake her, but she disappeared! Cerro Garcia stands out across the lake.

As I stepped aside to let an overloaded stake truck pass (Mexicans can truly pack a truck high!), a big white sack fell off the pile and the driver jumped out to retrieve it. I kept going, and a moment later wondered how in the world he could get it back up on top? Maybe he put it in the passenger seat.

This small dusty memorial makes me pause and reflect. It's an old tradition to leave a stone beside a shrine in tribute as you pass by. This one, with the legend GMR-4 DE 1979 on the cross, is full to the top with tiny stones.

A gringa (non-MX woman) in an old dirty car with groceries and dog in back offered a ride. Great, I'm ready now! Says she lives in a cornfield. Hmm? It turns out she means in one of the scattered houses in the stalled development outside the Roca Azul gate. So my ride was only a block long! To the left of the gate, bougainvillea bushes brighten up a few pens where the gatekeeper family keeps sheep that will disappear as one by one to become birria stew served on the town square or family table, a cow, two half-grown equally doomed calves, and a few chickens.

When I came through the gate, Jose, the gatekeeper, was waving down a truck exiting with a load of palm branches. A gringo had stopped his car behind the truck, jumped out and picked up a pitchfork that had fallen, and was was trotting up with it. Lucky it didn't fall out on the road!

As I continued on, a middle aged, sweaty gringo wearing an aloha shirt and ragged straw hat approached. He looked familiar - ah, he'd walked through the campground this morning with that large bag! I asked where he’s off to. "To the plaza to sell my new book!" and showed me a copy. "El Nitty Gritty," by Howard Fryer. It’s a very nice cover, looks a bit humorous. I compliment Howard, and wish him luck. Here's everybody's dog, watching Howard heading out!

Not much farther to go, now, but I was very tired! I sat to rest on the porch of a house I’ve always liked, but have seen occupied only once, a year or so ago. Whew! I was sweating under my hat. I enjoyed the view and had a drink of water.

Then I went on. I was sure glad to see the Roca Azul Campground gate. I made it home hot and pooped! My walk to town and back was an hour and a half. And way fun!

Rain!

We woke at 6am to the drumming of a steady, heavy rain. Don't know when it started.
This is SO unusual!

Two days ago, Marilyn & I hiked the unfinished bypass hwy that will route eastbound through traffic around Jocotepec's north side, rather than through the narrow streets. Already paved at one end, bulldozed at the other, it was a fine hike with a great view of town. But black, dramatic thunderheads began to blow in, and before we made our way down a dirt lane to her house, a few drops were falling.

Real rain began soon after, as we picked up Chinese takeout. Yes, Chinese. Mexican man meets Japanese woman in the U.S. and before long they open Joco's only Chinese restaurant! By the way, a few doors up the street, Mexican woman meets Peruvian man on the Internet = New Mexican restaurant in Joco. This is a great town! 

And that rain...it grew torrential, with downpour and thunder finally ending at dawn. It's like everything we've heard about the summer rainy season, NOT due until June! We've been here during four winter seasons and have NEVER had any rain. Nor the cold weather we experienced here in December and January with a couple of light rains! VERY unseasonable.

It is a nice taste of the summer we hear about: rainstorms at night, beautiful days, green hills and flowers everywhere! The locals love it, waiting eagerly through the dusty April-May days.

If you arrive in Jocotepec early enough in October, you will see this shortcut lane leading from Roca Azul to Joco lined with the last masses of daisies, morning glories and pink and red wildflowers!

This morning's rain goes on...

El Senor del Monte Procession

Last Sunday, a bright, mild late afternoon, Chuck, our RV neighbor Sonia and I went into Jocotepec to see the highlight event of the annual El Senor del Monte festival. The honored El Senor is removed from his position above the Cathedral altar and carried around the town in a grand procession. Participants include locals, residents of small towns near and far, and many “absent sons,” those who have left for work up north, but return to visit their families at this time.

We arrived in time to see one of two green arches erected on Matamoros Street.

At 4:00, El Senor would be carried out of the Cathedral by select church leaders and high clergy into the eager crowd waiting in the courtyard. Where we waited on Matamoros Street, venders walked the parade route selling candles, food, and toys as spectators gathered. Aromas of  flat, sweet grilled gorditas, crisp bunuelos (can’t spell that one) and roasting corn kindled our appetites.

                                                       We gave in.

As the light became rosy with the lowering sun, penitents and their helpers began to lay down folded blankets. Many would greet El Senor on their knees with extreme humility, in supplication, atonement, entreaty or thanks, progressing along the parade route towards the approaching icon.

Then, we heard drums and stamping feet and the clacking metal shoes of the blue-suited Indians, and saw the multitude of the procession appear. The Indian dancers, stamping their feet in a repeated rhythm, were surrounded and followed by a crowd of townsfolk carrying on the dance. This contagious emotion is my  favorite part of the event!                            

The street became thick with people, many with candles, some walking blindfolded, arm-in-arm with a companion. More Indians, a band, and then El Senor! Honored men maintained space with a rope barrier. The priests walked within, and El Senor del Monte was carried aloft. They were followed by a truck with loudspeakers. Prayers were read, an old woman with a rather shaky voice led a song, and the crowd joined in quietly and sweetly. To my ear, it is a haunting, somber chorus. Thousands walked by us.

When the huge crowd began to dwindle, we wandered the central streets, which were lined with plastic tarps and wooden tables set up by itinerant vendors who sold just about everything you can imagine. One booth might be thirty feet long, stacked high with kitchen goods, another a modest table with a few shoes.

This was a moving and fascinating experience. We went home for a late, light meal, but most folks in town would have a long night. The plaza and adjacent streets were crowded with people enjoying loud music, carnival rides and arcade games. Restaurants and bars set up in the street were selling snacks, beer, tacos, carnitas, and the local favorite – birra, or goat stew.