Paquimé and Mata Ortiz

I have mixed feelings about tours and tour guides on occasion, in spite of being one myself. Commercial tours tend to be geared toward the interests of many and therefore don't delve into aspects of a place and culture like I would prefer. All inclusive tours feed you too much, spend too much time visiting stores (where often the guide gets a kick-back), and rush you through the sites you want to see in order to hustle you on to the next store. So it is a pleasure when you go on a tour and the guide actually makes an effort to find out what you want to see and then arranges for local experts to meet you there.

I am a docent at New Mexico's Coronado State Historical Monument. We give tours of our famous reconstructed painted kiva to visitors. A group of us, including a researcher and one of the park rangers, went on a fast 4 day trip to Chihuahua, and engaged the services of Luis Buenavidez, a guide who operates out of the Pink Store in Palomas, Chihuahua - right across the border from Columbus, NM.

Typical shape of the Paquimé doorways,
now the symbol of the site.

We met Luis on Friday and drove 3 hours south to Nuevo Casas Grandes, where we would be spending 2 nights in a very Mexican hotel. He took us to the ruins of an ancient pueblo, Paquimé. It is the southernmost city of the southwestern culture of the Pueblo people, the same people who built Chaco Canyon and Mesa Verde. However, the Paquimé were influenced as much by people to the south as by those from Chaco Canyon. They had a ball court and a platform in the shape of a giant "+" with circles at each end, not unlike the Mayan cross found all over Chiapas. They also raised and sacrificed birds, specifically turkeys and the red scarlet Mackaw, also common in Chiapas. One of their more notable technological achievements was a water system that not only irrigated crops but delivered water directly to their homes.

(More on the Mayan Ball Game)

The tall spire is what is left of the corner of a 3-story building.

Classic example of a doorway

The site and its surroundings.

The museum is one of the better museums I've seen in Mexico. The displays are well done and all signage is in both Spanish and English. Their collection of Paquimé pottery is exquisite.

The following day, Luis took us to the village of Mata Ortiz. As docents at a historic site, we were interested in the ancient culture of the Paquimé and also the current culture of making beautiful pottery. In the 1960s, a man named Juan Quezada dug up old pots and was impressed with the artistry. He decided to learn how to make them. Over a decade of self-teaching about where to find the clays, shape the pots, make the paints, decorate, and then fire them, he finally came into his own as a potter. During the next few decades, he taught the people in his tiny village to make pots too. Now, 2 generations later, his tradition has evolved into some amazing works using the traditional techniques he developed, with a global sense of style. Mata Ortiz potters are famous around the world. 

Sr. Quezada with red clay from a riverbed

We were introduced to Sr. Quezada and then he personally guided us on a trek into the desert where he and his family still mine for various colors of clay. In rocky, prickly terrain, we watched him dig a shovel full of brown clay. He explained that the clay is put into buckets, then filled with water. Over a day or so, the rocks in the clay sink to the bottom and the organic material floats to the top. The clay can be easily scooped out and then dried somewhat to become the right consistency for making pots. All the work in his studio (shown below) was fashioned by hand. The paints are traditional paints created onsite and applied with human-hair brushes. 

Our guide Luis with Juan Quezada 

A young protogé with exquisite control, painting every
line by hand without the use of any kind of guide. 

Should you be interested in taking a tour with Luis, you can contact him through the Pink Store in Palomas, Chihuahua, or email him directly:  luisbenavidez75@hotmail.com

To read more about Juan Quezada:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juan_Quezada_Celado  

Or about the Mata Ortiz pottery:   http://mataortiz.com/

Frida Kahlo's Blue House

Mexico's best known artists, are without a doubt, Diego Rivera and his wife Frida Kahlo. This was not always so. Frida's work came into prominence later in her life, long after Diego had achieved his, and she was almost always patronizingly seen as Diego's wife, even when she wasn't. And twice she wasn't; before she married him and between their divorce and remarriage.

She once said she had two major accidents. The bus tragedy that almost killed her, and Diego.

She was raised in the Blue House, a home built by her photographer father. She then lived in it with Diego, and he continued to live and work there after her death. The house is in Coyoacán, once a small town outside of Mexico City, now a blended suburb full of exquisite large homes that date back to the early 20th century.

Patty and I especially wanted to see Frida's museum while a special exhibit of her clothing was on display. Apparently before Diego died, he asked that all her clothes, jewelry, shoes, and personal effects be put into storage and kept out of the public eye for many years. When the woman who guarded them passed on, the storage areas were opened, the clothing was fixed, repaired, and cleaned, and some pieces were put out in a special exhibit.

I downloaded the Metro map from the Metro's own website before we left for Mexico. But, not too surprisingly, the map did not have any reference to a new line that would let us out only a few blocks from Frida's house/museum. After all, the new line has only been operating for a little over a year, certainly not time enough to update the website.

The pyramid in the courtyard

Fortunately, the maps inside the Metro were up to date and we decided where we could emerge and walk to the museum. It was much further than expected and we arrived tired and thirsty.

Many things surprised me about the house. For instance "house" is a bit of a misnomer. It is a large walled lot with several disconnected buildings, quite typical of elegant homes in Mexico. The building closest to the street appeared to be public reception areas; living room with kitchen and a dining room. The whole house had a somewhat disjointed floor plan. I suppose when you have servants it's not important to be able to efficiently get food to the table, and you wouldn't worry about short flights of stairs all over the place. Just outside the kitchen was a sunken pit with stairs leading down into it with no exit or door leading to other rooms. Just an odd place to sit and read, or who knows what?

Frida's studio faced north for the best painting light, with windows to the east as well. The eastern windows looked out into the tree covered large patio with a fountain and a pyramid full of sculptures that Diego designed. The signs said the studio is just as she left it, but I doubt that. Why would she have left a large path for tourists to come traipsing through? Still, there was a real magic seeing her wheel chair in front of an easel given to her by John D. Rockefeller. Next to the studio was a small room with a single bed. This was her day bed where she could rest when she wanted to lie down flat. Through a doorway, her bedroom, was also fitted with a single bed and other furniture with items she collected or made.

Off the dining room was a guest bedroom where Trotsky stayed. I recognized it from the movie, Frida, which may have been filmed in the house, but if not, they were certainly faithful to the room and the window where he sat just as the assassin sneaked up from behind. It was the room in which he died. Not knowing that story, it would have been just a lovely room, knowing the story, it had an erie feel to it. Funny how we perceive things....

On the day Frida died, a death mask was made and then recreated in bronze. It sits, wrapped in a scarf, just below the pillow on her day bed. The mirror she looked into while painting her body casts is still affixed above the bed, stretched between the frame at the top of the four posts.

A Huipil shirt, highly decorated

In another building, which may have once been bedrooms or even servant quarters, a limited number of her wardrobe pieces were on display. Since she always wore braces and often full body casts after numerous operations, some of those items were on display too. Talk about Machiavellian torture devices! They looked so awkward and painful, yet were supposed to reduce pain.

Many of her notebooks were shown as well, with such intimate memoirs as a drawing of herself on an operating table, her miscarried baby between her legs, and Diego in the background with doctors.

She was an amazing woman, fearless it would seem when it came to being exactly who she was with little care as to what others might think. In some ways she was free to express  things other women would have kept private, and she suffered for it.

Her wardrobe was her own creation, based on the traditional costumes of her indigenous heritage, made specially for her body and its peculiarities. Her shoes/boots were custom made with one shoe built up by an inch or so to adjust her much shorter right leg. And the workmanship of each embroidered blouse and skirt was of a quality not seen today. The tiniest stitches, by the thousands, flow over voluminous skirts and dress up the plain boxy huipil shirts. She wore jewelry in her hair, didn't pluck her eyebrows, and made every attempt to draw the attention away from her flawed body to focus on her face and eyes. I do believe she succeeded. She will never be remembered as a cripple, but as a great painter and a free spirit, one that can still be felt in the house.

Pots used as rain gutters.

Oaxaca, Mexican Gem

Patty and I left Mexico city on a six-hour bus ride that stretched to eight hours because the bus went to the airport before leaving the city right at the "La Comida" hour when most people go home for lunch and a rest, ie rush-hour traffic.

I stayed in Oaxaca for a few days last year and had a great time in the city but a terrible tour of Monte Alban. (Click the link for that one!) Patty was getting sick the day of the bus ride and went downhill from there. She is a naturally thin person who doesn't eat when she feels bad (go figure!)  so she wasn't up for doing much exploring. After a couple of days though, she had energy and we took a tourista bus, not a tour, up to the ruins.

We were lucky with the weather which was was cool, breezy with clouds that came and went. We spent a full three hours in the ruins and more time in the small museum. We hired a young man with reasonably good English, after I grilled him thoroughly. Clemente had a degree in tour guiding. In Mexico, licensed guides have to know history, culture, languages, and a lot of psychology to make it as a tour guide and he turned out to be excellent.

Clemente gave us his version of the standing stelas which depict human beings in odd (and painful poses) as the Toltec version of a medical manual. Some had hunchbacks, deformed limbs, and mutilated genitals. One shows a woman giving birth to a breach baby. The bad guide said it was a woman giving birth to a God, but this man's version is that the stela was part of the group of medical anomalies, a Toltec Grey's Anatomy. Another theory is that the posers were all dead, or in the process of being tortured. From the expressions on the faces, I would think the latter. Since there are some existing icons of a written language that are not fully understood, I'm sure more information will emerge as studies progress.

Oaxaca is famous for its cuisine. Mole was invented by nuns who wanted to prepare something special for a visiting pope. Mole is a complex and sometimes day-long process of toasting seeds and spices, grinding, mashing, and frying various foods together to create a delicate and flavorful sauce. Many versions of mole exist. Now days there are mole stands in every market where you can buy a large glop of brown, red, or black mole paste, take it home, add water or tomato sauce, and violá, MOLE!

It is also an artistic community, something of interest to Patty who is an elementary art teacher. Weavers and stitchers are everywhere. Colorful rugs and embroidery fill the shops, along with carved wooden animals, blown glass, and pottery. Mexicans treat their whole world as an artistic canvas. The simplest plant in a pot can be an artistic achievement.

Inside the golden Santo Domingo Church

Agave

Cathedral, at the Zócalo

Santo Domingo Church

Ex-convento, next to the Santo Domingo Church,
now a cultural museum. The building is worth seeing,
and it houses all the gold jewelry found at Monte Alban.

More information:  Our guide, Clemente Perez can be contacted by email: clemerope@yahoo.com.mx
The tourist bus company is at 501 Mina. Or ask at the tourist information kiosk in the Zocalo, across from the Cathedral for a map and more information. Not all tours are terrible, but they all take you around to workshops and gift shops where I'm sure the company gets a kick-back. For more photos of this gorgeous city, see my previous post:  http://sherryhardagetravel.blogspot.mx/2012/04/big-mexico-oaxaca.html

Pueblo Magico : Comitán de Domíngues

Just a small number of the flowers inside
San Carlampio church

The Mexican Tourism Board has designated a number of cities in Mexico as Pueblo Magico, an honor indicating a place of exceptional beauty, historical significance, and tourist opportunities that provide a "magical" experience. Most are colonial cities, built before 1650, in the first 150 years of Spanish occupation of the New World. Some like San Cristóbal de las Casas and Comitán de Domíngues in Chiapas were founded a mere fifty years after Cortes invaded the mainland of Mexico.

Until 1915, Comitán was known as Comitán de las Flores (of the flowers). It was renamed after its native son, senator Dr. Belisario Domingues, was murdered for speaking out against the Huerta government. President Huerta himself was one of a group of men who murdered Dominguez. They cut off his tongue as a symbolic warning to others. 

Comitán is lower in altitude than San Cristóbal where I have lived periodically for nine months. It's warmer but at a high enough elevation the hotels don't have air conditioning. It is still a place of flowers. Bougainvillea are everywhere, along with many varieties of flowering trees. Every little garden glimpsed through open gates is a flower showcase of color. The Mayans have also used colorful bromeliads from the vast rain forest in their religious celebrations for centuries. Many are now becoming endangered. 

A couple, dancing in the Zocalo

Unlike San Cristóbal, Comitán does not have the foreign tourist draw, and thus has been spared the negative side of massive tourism. There are no wandering street vendors who thrust goods in your face while you sit at a sidewalk cafe trying to eat lunch or talk with your friends. There are almost no beggars. An assortment of shoe shine boys wander the streets with their boxes, and people sit in the shade in the Zocalo with their packets of gum and candy for sale. Little stands are posted here and there on the streets selling tacos, belts and knock-off handbags. But as a tourist, time spent in Comitán is tranquil, without constant bombardment to buy-give-buy. 

Comitán seems to have a forward-thinking city government. Many modern sculptures by some very famous Mexican artists dot the city and Zocalo. Belisario Dominguez' daughter donated her home for a modern art museum, his own home is a historical museum, and the city has a good selection of artifacts from Tenam Puente and Chinkultic in the archeological museum. Housed in that same building is a decent library with a large Internet center and several interesting historical murals. 

Around the Zocalo are small restaurants, side by side, competing with each other by having virtually identical menus. The competition is between the handsome young men who try to persuade you to eat at their particular establishment. And there's a good coffee shop in a corner of the Zocalo with modern murals gracing its interior. 

Iglesia de San Caralampio

A few blocks from the Zocalo, another interesting church, frequented by the local indigenous people, is the center for many celebrations and fairs that set up in the large plaza. Iglesia de San Caralampio is a bright yellow church almost always filled with the sweet scent of thousands of flowers. Outside, the sacred jaguar is represented by a lovely sculpture atop a bright red rock.

Comitán is a center of commerce with many businesses lining the carretera, the main highway through town. It has old and modern hotels, excellent restaurants that serve traditional Chiapanecan food, and a few restaurants feature other cuisines. I ate at one, Cucina Italia, recently opened by an Canadian-Italian and his Comitán born wife. The lasagna was as good as any I've ever eaten, even in Italy. He makes the pastas, and the sauces from fresh tomatoes, picked that morning, and delivered to the market.

The people of Comitán are friendly and courteous. The pace is slow and the desire to enjoy each moment in life is a measure of the local character. A lovely city, and well deserving of its designation: Pueblo Magico.

Santo Domingo de Guzman Church 

Great coffee shop on the Zocalo 

Friendly corn-on-the-cob vendor

Hundreds of bromeliads decorate
the portal of the San Caralampio church

Modern art in the Zocalo, this is a
bust of poet Rosario Castellanos

The sacred jaguar

Chiapa de Corzo: Lacquer Artists

When you visit Chiapa de Corzo, the first thing you notice, aside from the heat, are the lacquered gourds and bowls hanging from the ceiling of the portal on the west side of the plaza. Well, you might first notice the plaza and it's huge castle-like structure complete with buttresses. For sure you would notice the ancient ceiba tree that is fenced off to protect it since it may be older than the town which goes back 2000 years before Christ. The indigenous people saw the Ceiba as the tree of life, probably because they live longer than most people could imagine.

But after all that other noticing, you would surely see the gourds. The entire west side of the plaza is devoted to shops that sell artesania: clothing used by the festival goers, the flowered full skirted dresses of the women, the masks and "blond" wigs used by men during the Parachicos festivities, painted furniture and objects in lacquer with bright colors on black, red, and dark blue backgrounds, handmade ice creams and ice cream hot dogs served on platters smothered in chomoy sauce and chile powder, and carved objects like Mayan heads and Jesus nailed to the cross.

Dona Marta with a young student

Lacquer work is a local tradition revived by a woman named Dona Marta. People have been doing it for a long time, but she began to teach it and now it's wide spread. She is now 70+ years old, and still teaching in the school for traditional arts, where they also teach building and playing marimbas, pottery, and wood carving.

Brigitte and I went on Saturday to Chiapas de Corzo specifically to see a woman named Graciela, winner of numerous awards for her lacquer artistry, to view her work, take photos of her workshop, and possibly  invite her to the Feria in Lake Chapala next November. Brigitte had an appointment with her for 11:00 but when we arrived at her place nobody was home. We were fashionably late, by 45 minutes, but when we called her cell, she was even more fashion conscious. She was in Tuxtla and apparently forgot about the meeting or thought it was later. Who knows? It's Mexico. She promised to return so Brigitte and I went to the plaza for lunch. We ate cochinito asado, chunks of tender pork in a rich brown chile soup with bits of potato and onions. It was fabulous. Then we sweated our way across the giant plaza to the ice cream store and got a cone to cool down. The cool lasted for a few minutes before the outside temperature returned us to dripping mode.

Polishing the Japanese "seed"

We stopped at the school to see Dona Marta and talked with her while a couple of students painted pieces. A young man was lacquering some seed-shaped wood pieces to be used by a Japanese artist for a sculpture. He spent at least an hour on each "seed" putting layer after layer of color and polish until each one shown brilliant in the sunlight.

Finally Brigitte called Graciela. She was home and waiting for us. Brigitte, in spite of living in Mexico for 13 years, still gets frustrated with the lack of business mentality. If she was ready, why didn't she call us??

Her house sits up on a hill overlooking the city, and is a pleasant plain cement block house with a long driveway. At the back of the property there is a large covered open-air studio. A helper was washing caliche, mined nearby from a hillside. This is the base for the paint they use in lacquer work. I'm not sure what they may have used in the old days for the lacquer part, but now they appear to use car polish. Graciela makes all the paint from caliche, car polish and commercially available tints. Her paints were stored in shoe polish tins. On shelves were her finished products: boxes, crosses, bowls and platters. Unfinished wood boxes and sculptures sat on other shelves, and hanging from giant garbage bags from the ceiling were dried gourds of all sizes and shapes.

Painted gourd

We spent about an hour there, setting up photo shoots of her artwork, and then I took photos of her working. She sits in a chair next to a table and paints the objects in her lap. Many of the basic flower shapes are first dabbed on with a finger tip, then other paints applied with a paintbrush she makes herself from a feather and hairs from a cat's tail. Considering the amount of time and effort that goes into each piece, it's amazing how reasonable the prices are. Small painted crosses are less than $50 pesos ($4.00 US).

She pulled out a photo album of her life's work. Even the album was gorgeous, thin wood lacquered with flowers was fastened to a plastic binder with brads. Brigitte fell in love with that idea and suggested that Graciela make some lacquered books to bring to the Feria as well as her more traditional pieces. The book contained many diplomas, awards, and photos of her receiving accolades. She is top notch. I photographed her over a period of ten minutes painting the side of a box. The development of the design was amazing. She started out putting on blobs of paint with her finger, and ended with a trail of flowers and leaves.

Graciela starting the
flowers with paint on a finger.