IDEALS

By Matthew Killby

Feb. 23, 2009
I woke for Gary’s morning walk. We travelled uphill and came across a man who had just moved to town a few months earlier. He spoke English and told us about an old rail line on top of the mountain that had been ripped out and was now used as a trail. He likes to take his horse up there. We hiked to the top of the hill and found the biggest tree of the trip. We hiked along the old rail line for a few minutes and got an excellent view of the surrounding mountains and Cuernavaca.
We had a bit of time between breakfast and when we were heading to Huitzilac, which I was grateful for so I could catch up on my writing.
We met Loraine at the church in Huitzilac, her hometown, where she introduced Aisha and I to David and his aunt, who we would be spending the day with. David was about my age, probably in his early twenties. He took us to his grandfather’s store and introduced us. His grandfather was enthralled with the history of Huitzilac and Morelos, and has even written a book on the subject.
David’s aunt’s house was right beside the store and we were introduced to some of the family.
David then showed us around town. He took us to the top of a set of steps where there is a cross and you can look out over the entire town. He showed us the cactus that you make poulke out of. Poulke is a drink made out of slightly fermented cactus juice. Because so many people make poulke, it is driving that particular cactus to extinction.
David is very smart and knows a lot about plants. He took us to his father’s house to meet his father and show us his collection of orchids. Orchids grow on trees in Mexico and there are many species endemic to specific regions. Because people cut down the trees to burn or sell the wood, it is putting the orchids at risk. David is trying to collect as many different species as he can. He knows his species and their biological niches well. He can even tell you the names of many of them in English. I called one of the volcanic rocks obsidian, and he ran to his car and produced a shiny, thin, black rock.
“This is obsidian.”
He was right of course.
We picked up his friend and headed into the mountains. When we headed up the mountain road, David and his friend reached out and buckled their seatbelts. Aisha and I exchanged nervous glances as we realized we had no seatbelts. The road was full of sharp turns, steep hills and sheer cliffs. It was a beautiful drive, despite the danger.
We arrived at a lake with a small shrine. We walked around the lake where we arrived at Lagunas de Zempoala, a National Park. It was a Sunday and there were a lot of families and young couples there enjoying the park. There were horses available to rent and a row of vendors that sold crafts, candy and kites. There was an old man in a white cowboy hat plucking a violin and singing a song. I asked David what he was singing and he said he was making it up as he went, singing about how the children should be at home studying instead of here at the lake. This was well received by the mothers who were preparing a picnic lunch and let out a roll of laughter.
There was a sign that I asked David to translate. It warned about staying out of the swamp and said not to pick the flowers or harm the wildlife. We continued back around the lake when we heard a woman yelling and waving her arms. David and his friend took off running towards the woman, who was pointing to another woman chest deep in water in the middle of the swamp. Everyone was running towards her, including a man on a horse who was carrying a rope. Another man in a white t-shirt jumped in after her and the man with the rope threw it to the man in the t-shirt, who put it around the woman. David and his friend were standing ankle deep in water waiting to assist. Through the efforts of half a dozen men, the woman was quickly pulled to safety. I wonder if this had happened in Canada if it would have elicited the same response. I think not.
We continued around the lake and I noticed that the pine trees were all hacked at the bottom. David said it was to extract the resin, which could be burned.
We left the lake and headed back down the winding mountain road, passing hundreds of bicyclists who were heading up the mountain.
We ate lunch at David’s aunt’s house and had sopas and mango juice. David’s grandfather and uncle joined us. His grandfather said very little, but his uncle had a lot to say on the subjects of native peoples (he insisted that they be called ‘Mexicans’, not ‘Indians’) to the history of Huitzilac. His aunt didn’t join us, but she also did not stay in the kitchen. I don’t know if her not joining us was a machismo thing, or if it was purely co-incidence.
Finally, we headed up the mountain to a castle, upon which is built a soccer field. They were playing league games, much like North America, with a referee and teams being sponsored by various companies, just like North America. David’s team was comprised mainly of his relatives. Uncles, nephews and cousins, and his team was sponsored by TelMex, one of the larger telephone companies in Mexico. The name was displayed across the front of their black and white jerseys. There really wasn’t much difference between the league there and a league in North America, except there they play their games on the top of a mountain. Of course it was the dry season, so every time the ball or a players shoe hit the ground it would leave a trail of dust in the air.
We met Loraine at the church to go back to her house. We all piled into the back of Victor’s pickup truck and headed through town. About halfway I realized that all my weight was against the hatch back. I was positioned so that I couldn’t adjust or move. I got a little more nervous when we started to head up a dirt and rock road that was fairly steep. I could just picture myself tumbling head first down the mountain if the hatch back were to spring open.
We arrived at Loraine’s house, which would have had a beautiful view of Cuernavaca if not for the half finished three storey building blocking the way. Loraine said she sometimes climbed up there and used it as her personal watchtower because the couple from Mexico City who were building it ran out of money (as often happens in this country). We decided to climb it and after circling the first floor for a while and realizing there was no stairs or ladder, I climbed a nearby tree to get to the second floor. From there, there was a ladder going to the third floor that I climbed, peeking over the edge at each successive level. A few people had followed me up the tree, but by now they had brought a ladder over from Loraine’s house to get up to the second level. The building was all concrete, built around a large tree that protruded from a hole in the top. It also had several branches that would poke through the walls in various rooms. We wondered what would happen to the building when the tree grew, or died. We also wondered how the tenants would react, it they were to discover that the tree was infested with snakes or scorpions. I had to admit that I did kind of like the idea of having a tree in my house. I decided to climb the tree to get to the roof of the third level. Even Loraine hadn’t been that high. Gary and Loraine followed me, but it was a difficult jump from the tree to the roof for anyone with short legs. Melanie grabbed a nearby rope and made a makeshift rope ladder up the tree, allowing a few more people to climb to the last level and glimpse the view of Cuernavaca.
We went inside Loraine’s house and she showed us the dry toilet (an environmentally friendly advanced outhouse). I played a little guitar while Chrissy sung harmony.
We went outside to light a fire, and Loraine invited her kids so they could hear our stories of Huitzilac, but they were too shy. They were your typical teenagers. We shared our stories from the day and then called the cabs to take us back to the monastery. While we were waiting for the cabs I went back to the unfinished house to get a picture of Cuernavaca at night. It proved to be difficult without a tripod and not wanting to climb a tree in pitch black to get a better view. We waited a long time for the cabs so we played with Loraine’s dogs, Serious and Puppy. Loraine’s chickens also inspired Chrissy to share her chicken call with us. We got back to the monastery late because the cabs kept getting lost on the way to Loraine’s house. Half of the group went straight to bed and the other half ate the late supper Sister Alejandra had left for us.