Headed South: August 2014

Will We EVER See a Waterfall?

You all know our problem. We go looking for waterfalls. We don't find them. Or some tragic event intervenes and we can't go. Well, we were scheduled to go to TWO beautiful waterfalls the next day. Once more tragedy (well, a bit of hyperbole) strikes. By 5 PM, upon our return from Edward James' place, it was clear that we were going nowhere anytime soon. As we hobble out of the van Michael says,"Oh, I definitely can feel Bone A vigorously scraping against Bone B in my right knee. Ayeeee!" My issues are more muscular, resulting in my legs being unable to bend or function with any degree of proficiency. Clinging to each other for support, we limp to the bar to medicate ourselves. While morosely downing a couple of cool ones, we decide that tomorrow's adventures are out of the question. We must remain inert and let our bodies heal. Aldo drops by to see how our day went. Assessing the situation, he instructs Angel (he is as his name implies) to fetch various items to help mend us. Angel returns with a black ointment most commonly used on injured livestock, tylenol and pomade of peyote. We pass on the cow fixer but take him up on the tylenol and pomade of peyote. When the peyote cream fails to do the trick topically, Michael suggests we just eat the stuff. No. Probably not. Rafael stops by to cheer us up. He says that Aldo and he are going to make a special meal the next night and asks if we want to be part of it. Absolutely. Something to live for!

So, the next morning our merry tribe leaves without us. We relax by the pool, read, sip cool drinks and feel sorry for ourselves. We watch Jose and his pals spend hours cutting up all sorts of interesting food and placing each type in a separate bag. The van gang returns and tells us all about the waterfalls. We feel a little better because it has rained so much over the past weeks that the Civil Protective Service (or something like that) has ruled the water too dangerous for boats-- so part of the trip didn't happen. And they had to be really careful swimming because the rate at which the water was coming over the falls created hydraulics that could suck you in.... and not let you out. And now, it's time for dinner.

One of the denizens of La Malanca. He was not part of dinner... I'm pretty sure.

The beautiful garden at La Malanca

Aldo and Rafael throw on their aprons and fire up the propane and the largest wok-like appliance I have ever seen. They are going to make discada. This is a dish from Northern Mexico that was invented by farm hands. They took the disc harrow from a disc plow, washed it (we hope) and then, over a fire, made what kind of looks like a paella but isn't. The photos will reveal all. Rafael was Aldo's "best man" and stirred the huge pan constantly as Aldo added the ingredients. Here are the ingredients that I can remember: onions; peppers (three kinds), chiles; potatoes; tomatillos (green tomatoes); red tomatoes; beef; chicken; and pork. There were probably more. Oh, and secret sauce. This all takes about an hour. And then, Rafael hoists the tequila bottle and pours a cross on top of the whole dish. At this point, Jose cranks up a second grill and the tortillas are prepared. Throw the tortillas on your plate, scoop on the discada and enter a new level of gustatory delight. So there we sat at a picnic table, watching the sunset over the garden, eating discada and drinking good wine and laughing and chatting in Spanglish with Rafael and his family. Aldo and his wife joined us for conversation, laughter and dessert. Truly a great evening.

Aldo adding ingredients to the discada.

Aldo adding his secret sauce, while Rafael looks on.

Jose, who took great care of us the whole time we were at La Malanca.

All of the ingredients have been added & simmering for quite a while, ...

the only thing left to do is to add the mezcal.

Aldo & Rafael posing before their brilliant gustatory creation.

Jose warms the tortillas while Angel looks on.

Aldo & his wife in the very back with Rafael, his wife, daughters, sister-in-law & niece with Deirdre.

A Road Less Taken

Once again we must curtail our partying because we are to be in the van at 6 AM the next day to go to Real de Catorce. This town was founded in 1778, is at the top of a VERY BIG mountain and once had 105 operating gold and silver mines. Sissies can get there by driving on a paved road and going through a tunnel that was hewn out of the mountain by hand in 1895. But would that be any fun? NOOOOO. Aldo has arranged a tour where we can ascend to the town by the original, rock, gravel & dirt (at best) one lane (if that) road that clings precipitously to the mountainside with drops of several thousand feet for the entire trip. You can imagine my excitement (chant phobia #1 at this point). We will get there in Willy's jeeps that were built sometime in the 50's -- or the 60's maybe. But first we are driven to the staging point where our guide takes us into his house (I think) and we sit at this huge table and have a massive breakfast. He has peyote plants in his patio. By now, we have added more people to the tribe. There is the young couple who'd been with us, Rafael and his gang and now two more families from Guadalajara. Alejandro and his wife have two teenage boys and Mario and his wife have three. It is much more fun to go on a trip like this with teenage boys because they will do ANYTHING as long as it is pretty dangerous and fun.

Alejandro, Mario & their families along with the couple in the back left, who are newly married.

Having consumed what is now our normal 4,000 calorie breakfast we head for the Jeeps. They are ancient but very cool. Two benches in the back and a front seat. Two of them will seat (hmmmm, let's see) 14. But there are more of us than that. Ha! People will ride on top! Who wants to? A surprising number of people. Of course, the teenage boys and Rafael's daughters and, of course, Rafael. Not me. There are no seat belts etc. because that would be ridiculous. Will a seat belt save you when you plunge 2 or 3,000 feet off a cliff. I think not.

A flowering cactus outside our guide's house.

The Willys Jeep loaded & ready to go. You can barely make out the people on top behind the leaves of the tree.

We stop at a hacienda that was a mining headquarters. Small children are selling geodes. This is how little they see Gringos in this area. The kids start selling geodes to our Mexican tribe members and leave us alone. This never happens. Usually it is like we have big signs over our heads "Gringos -- we'll buy ANYTHING from cute kids". We are confused. It is an interesting place and I never want to leave because that means I will have to get back in the Willy and teeter along cliffs that grow more terrifying by the meter. And they do. But eventually we are there -- in Real de Catorce. I think. But then we drive through it and continue on the truly bad road. And then we stop.

Interesting cactus plants on our way up the mountain.

Rafael & his two daughters on top of the Willys.

Selling geodes, water & snacks by the abandoned mining headquarters.

The smelter at the abandoned mine, ...

with some very fancy detail at the base of the smelter.

Even though the buildings have been long abandoned, ...

some of the intricate, original detail is still evident.

The ever present shrine to the Virgin is still maintained.

So, once again, we have a guide who is wonderful and very funny and speaks only Spanish (well, it IS Mexico) at about 784 words per minute. As I stand there, turning my head from side to side and looking totally lost, Alejandro comes up to me. Actually, this started at the mining hacienda. He speaks really great English (worked for HP, entrepreneur now) and he is explaining everything to me and I, in turn, to Michael. So, where are we?

Our Mexican guide explaining, in very rapid Spanish, something we do not comprehend until Alejandro translates for us.

We are in the heart of the Wirikuta (I feel like I'm back in New Zealand) which is the sacred land of the Huichol indigenous group. They live in Jalisco (our state), Nayarit and a couple of other places. But every year, they do a pilgrimage to the Wirikuta and visit five sacred sites. We are standing looking at one (or more) of them. The guide explains that the pilgrimage by foot takes between 13 and 25 days of constant walking. Then he explains that every pilgrim is registered. Why? Because if you are not registered and don't do the walk then you are not eligible for your ration of peyote. Peyote is very sacred to the Huichol. And what is your ration of peyote? The guide says 20 kilos. I yell at Alejandro, "WHAT? Did he say 20 kilos? Am I doing the math right? Is that 44 lbs. of peyote?" Alejandro shrugs. I'm not sure about any of this but I can name you a lot of people who would walk 13 days for 44 lbs. of peyote. Not our friends of course......

I am relieved when I find out that the town we went through WAS Real de Catorce and we don't have to climb that rotten mountain any more. And Real de Catorce is really cool. With 105 mines it was a very rich place and all the rich people built big mansions and nice churches and cock fighting rings and bull rings and such. And then, in 1905 the price of gold and silver plunged. And they shut the mines. But the rich people stayed there because as soon as the prices would go up, they figured, they would open up the mines again. But then, in 1910, there was a bit of a fuss. The rich people thought it was just a little uprising so they left everything where it was and said they would come back when things settled down. Wrong. It was the Mexican Revolution. Ten years of it. The town was abandoned. But then, in the 1960s, new settlers arrived. Swiss and Italian hippies. I know. Swiss hippies? Really? But true. These were the years that Ken Kesey was camping on the beach in Manzanillo and busing around Ajijic and environs using many unusual herbals. And all those rich, gay guys were hanging out in Cuernavaca. And I think Liz and Dick were in Acapulco or Puerta Vallarta or somewhere. And the Swiss and Italian hippies were in Real de Catorce. Those were the days my friends.... Now, other people are buying up the mansions. And guess what they are finding? Money. Left behind. Buried. Hidden. Cool. Not from the hippies. From the rich people. The hippies didn't renovate.

The view from above Real de Catorce.

The topography here was much more desert-like, in contrast to La Huesteca.

The ubiquitous Mexican burro.

This was the bull ring of Real de Catorce. Notice the boy in the back right playing with the soccer ball.

The soccer ball comes whizzing across as I snap this picture of horseback riders passing the bull ring.

Our guide explained that this was called a dollar tree, because the color of the leaves look like American money. Well, I don't know. He said something. It might have been that. Actually I think it was Rosa....

Note the detail on this church built by the Franciscans.

The interior of the church, with its painted walls and cupola, was also interesting.

The Virgen de Guadalupe looks down on the infant Jesus above the altar.

The graveyard in front of the church had some interesting monuments.

The decorations on the doors to the entrance to the graveyard & church are peyote buttons. The Catholic Church was really good at incorporating indigenous beliefs and sacred objects into a hybrid religion that seemed to work for most people.

This was the cock fighting ring in Real de Catorce. The acoustics in the center of the ring returned an echo.

This shows the up & down nature of the streets in the town.

So, we wander around Real de Catorce and get back in the Jeeps. I am relieved because there is talk that we will now go through the tunnel. The tunnel that leads to the paved road for the sissies. Oh yes, good. But we drive through the tunnel... and turn around...back through the tunnel to the totally scary road and now we are going DOWN. Words fail me. But we stop halfway down and the driver of the second jeep goes and gets his wife/sister/mother/friend -- quien sabe? And she is selling pomade de peyote, shampoo made from things I don't understand, and a couple of other things. We all buy huge amounts of all of it. Who KNOWS when you may need it. Miraculously, we arrive back at the staging area in one piece. We go back into the guide's place and have an absolutely wonderful dinner. Perhaps another 4,000 calories worth. Then we are treated to "organic" mezcal. Organic? Who cares? This stuff could burn the fur off a rabbit. But delicious. Stuffed, we get back into the van and drive two or three hours (who is counting at this point?) back to La Malanca.

The main church in Real de Catorce.

This dress/robe is covered with milagros. They are small metal shapes (like a leg, a heart etc.) that you buy and hang on the article of clothing in the church to help you. So break a leg, get a leg milago. Milagro means miracle. You get it.

The church had these very interesting floors, which could be lifted up. To what purpose? Unknown.

The interior of the church.

The light coming through the windows highlighted the detail work.

And once more a shrine to the Virgen de Guadalupe.

A Huichol woman in her colorful dress sitting on the stoop.

One of our "four thousand calorie" meals at the guide's house.

A peyote cactus.

It's over. We have to leave La Malanca the next day. Rafael and his gang say they are coming back in November and Michael and I say we'll come too. Alejandro -- are you up for it? There is still much to see and do.

We had not actually spent any time in San Luis Potosi so we booked a hotel for one night there. It was great. The best was the Museum of the Mask. I'm telling you that those people in Michoacan and Guerra have some pretty hideous nightmares. Wait until you see their masks in the photos. Perhaps one of the best breakfasts we've ever had was at a place called Cafe Cortao that we found on Trip Advisor. Mexican friends take note. Then back into the calm, safe arms of Ajijic. Every day in Mexico is a treasure... honesto! More soon.