Phil Little: Memories of El Rayo (Pisaflores), Hidalgo

Phil Little has posted an account of his time 40 years ago in El Rayo (Pisaflores) Hidalgo. He's managed to dig up some interesting pictures to accompany his remembrance, and all CIASP'ers will greatly appreciate it. The story is posted to another blog, but is easily accessed at the link http://thelittlefarm.blogspot.com/2009/09/chance-encounter-with-our-mexican-past.html

Enjoy this, and consider adding your own pictures and thoughts.

Another reminder about the Facebook site for CIASP. There is a Facebook group named CIASP and anyone can join this. The advantage of the Facebook site is that it will allow everyone to directly contact anyone on the list (without using an intermediary to provide email addresses).

Facebook should be used with caution! If you are just creating an account, you should provide the minimal amount of personal information. You should also make certain that you minimize your "visibility to others" by choosing the preferences that locks out many details to strangers. Finally, do not use the applications and other programs that can be added to your Facebook account. Most privacy issues are associated with the "add-on" applications. 

Return to Pisaflores: 43 years later

RETOUR A PISAFLORES 20-21 NOVEMBRE 2008-11-23
Denis LaRose
Croyant que le voyage serait de 4 heures, je suis parti vers 8H30 le vendredi 20 novembre 2008 avec Dave H, un géologue américain en visite à San Miguel de Allende depuis deux mois, dans ma Volkswagon coccinelle 1995.
Nous voguons sans problème vers Quérétaro, que nous évitons grâce à l’autoroute, et allons direction sud passé SAN JUAN DEL RIO, puis nous quittons l’autoroute en direction est sur la route nationale 45 (une fois dans Hidalgo) et ensuite vers la 85.
Après avoir vu le superbe fleuve Moctezuma entouré de cacti variés, de la hauteur d’un superbe pont nous continuons notre chemin. Soudainement le paysage change totalement…. Il y a plein de nuages, de la pluie, du brouillard, et d’immenses montagnes le long desquelles serpentent la route 85 …inlassablement pendant des kilomètres et pendant au moins 3 heures.
Nous arrivons à l’embranchement de la route pour Pisaflores vers 16h30 ….et à tout hasard nous demandons avant de descendre les 18 kilomètres (de 1500 mètres à 250 mètres) vers Pisaflores s’il y avait un hôtel à Pisaflores…. OUI… alors malgré la pluie et l’heure tardive nous descendons sur un chemin pavé vers le village où nous trouvons effectivement un petit hôtel et nous prenons chacun une chambre pour $15 chacune.. un lit une douche ça suffit… Il pleut encore….
La ville a beaucoup grandit depuis 1965 quand j’y suis allé, et quand nous avons ouvert la route vers Pisaflores. En 1969 ils ont construit un imposant pont sur le fleuve Moctezuma et depuis l’électricité, le téléphone ont atteint la petite ville qui compte plusieurs pharmacies, plusieurs médecins (dont un comme maire), plusieurs camions de police (au moins trois), et plusieurs politiciens. Quand j’y suis allé il n’y avait qu’un médecin qui faisait son stage obligatoire avant de pouvoir pratiquer, aucune pharmacie et à peine un magasin général.
Il semble que l’économie soit surtout centrée sur la culture du café (et du maïs). Il y a toujours l’école primaire publique, une école secondaire, mais l’école catholique a été abandonnée (j’avais enseigné une deuxième année….puisqu’ils n’avaient aucun professeur)…. Ils ont construit une très belle et grande église catholique.
Nous avons bien dormi, mais à 6 heures du matin j’étais debout pour prendre des photos… il ne pleuvait plus. J’ai aussi acheté beaucoup de café local.
Puis à 10 heures nous étions sur le chemin du retour. A mi-chemin nous avons pris une route tout à fait différente pour nous rendre à Quérétaro…. Que de paysages et montagnes superbes nous avons pu voir une fois sortis des forêts pluvieuses et montagneuses. Nous avons vu un lac immense créé par un barrage gigantesque et traversé trois très longs tunnels à travers les montagnes…
Nous sommes arrivés à 18h30 à San Miguel. Nous avons été à une réunion aa et j’ai apporté avec moi mon sac à dos contenant mes caméras etc…. Une fois rendu chez moi vers 21 h je me suis rendu compte que je n’avais pas mon sac à dos… j’ai pensé l’avoir oublié au local de la réunion aa… aucun signe du sac dans le local… le lendemain je fais toutes sortes d’investigations, pour apprendre que le sac se trouvait, ouvert, devant le local des aa… Un couple l’a vu et devait le prendre… mais comme j’ai appris ce soir… ils l’ont laissé sur la rue ne sachant pas à qui il pouvait appartenir….
Donc je mets une annonce à la radio locale pour essayer de localiser le sac (récompense de $200)….. j’ai aussi appelé mon assurance maison et fait une réclamation… il semble que soit couvert moins $500…. Je pense avoir perdu une valeur de $4000 et surtout mes très belles photos…
Triste conclusion de voyage… mais je garde en moi les souvenir et ce fut très satisfaisant de voir ce village si perdu et lointain qui a marqué ma vie.
Denis LaRose le 23 novembre 2008

A RETURN TO PISAFLORES 43 YEARS LATER
by Denis LaRose
San Miguel de Allende, November 30th 2008
On November 21st 2008, I left from San Miguel de Allende in the state of Guanajuato in Mexico, to return to the state of Hidalgo, specifically to Pisaflores where I had been with a group of Canadian University students in the summer of 1965.
By the map I figured I could make the trip in about 4 hours with my 1995 Beattle Volkswagon. An American friend, a geologist, was accompanying me.
We drove south, towards Queretaro, passed San Juan del Rio and then headed east, first on the 45, and then on the 85 highways. Once we crossed the mighty Tula river we noticed a definite change in vegetation, from the semi desertic plateau with cacti to the rain forests with pines and lots of greenery as we got closer and closer to the Sierra Madre mountains.
By then we had driven for 4 hours --- little did we know that we still had to drive in the rain, in the fog, and in the curved road in the mountains, at 30 km an hour, for another 4 hours before we reached the road that led to Pisaflores.
Around 4:30 pm we arrived at a junction, 18 kms from Pisaflores, and asked if by any chance there was a hotel in Pisaflores—otherwise given the late hour we would have headed for the close-by CHAPULHUACAN that appeared to have a good hotel.
To our surprise, there was a hotel in Pisaflores with several rooms so we headed down the paved road all the way to the town, after crossing a bridge over the impressive Moctezuma river. The rooms were $15 (150 pesos) and had a bed, sheets, a shower and washroom and toilet paper.
Unfortunately it was raining and it was somewhat foggy but at least the weather was warmer than up above at the level of Highway 85!!!
We explored the town, noticed the many businesses, at least 3 pharmacies, a photographic store, several doctor’s offices, hardly any real restaurants. We headed for the church: a beautiful, modern church and walked along the Rio Blanco that crosses the town and bought some coffee in a shop, where the 80 yo owner remembered the Canadians, in particular a guy called JAIME (JAMES….). We bought all the coffee he had.
After a rest we returned to the town square that now had 3 police trucks and a pharmacy where the General Store used to be. We ate some beef and chicken tacos right there on the square and they were very tasty.
There were lots of happy people, kids, couples walking around. There was electricity, satellite dishes, phones.
The next morning I got up early to take some photos (I would later lose the camera and all the photos on my returning to San Miguel de Allende).
We had breakfast on the town square eating a corn dish with chicken (the corn looked like couscous) –with cinnamon flavoured coffee. It was all very tasty and neither of us were sick.
I asked the lady who was serving breakfast when they had built the bridge,,,, she figured it was completed sometime in 1969. She remembered the Canadians and Father Jesus (Zepeda), who had since passed away she said.
I bought some more coffee from Pisaflores at a different store on the other of the square.
It was time to return (9:30 am).
The visit made a strong impression on me. I recognized the street and the house where we had camped for at least 6 weeks. I have been reflecting on our role in those days. We had built a road at father Jesus’ urging with the campesinos. I had taught grade 2 at the catholic school, which was still there but not used as a school anymore. I had worked as the translator for the nurse, Pauline Proulx, in Pisaflores and in the villages around. Sometimes I could not translate as the patient would speak only an Indian language—but to make him understand that we came from very far, the patient was told that we came from Mexico City!!!
Pisaflores is a beautiful town, and its main activity seems to be the growth of coffee and corn. Its inhabitants look happy and fairly prosperous. Our road had allowed Mexico to reach Pisaflores. It has allowed the establishment of a public health clinic, a high school, health care, electricity, water treatment among other visible changes.
After driving such a long distance I figured I would not return. But I might very well do return, maybe in a less rainy season. In the end it seems that father Zepeda built the road that the government would not build. It seems now that the Hidalgo government is fulfilling its role of serving also the people of Pisaflores.
In my personal history, Pisaflores of 1965 has had a major impact. I realized that philosophy as a profession was not what I wanted to do. I kept on studying philosophy on my return to Canada, and read Marx that said: < It is not important to interpret the world, it is necessary to transform it.>
I ended up studying medicine and psychology and became a cardiologist that practised in Gatineau, Québec, for 23 years until my retirement 3 years ago. At my retirement I headed back to Mexico and settled, at least for 6 months of the year, in San Miguel de Allende.

In Memoriam: Lucille Mason

In Memory of Lucille Mason
December 2006

Lucille spent the last few weeks of her life in Rancho Nuevo — an outlying settlement of the Municipality of Pisaflores (“To Walk Over Flowers”) in the State of Hidalgo Mexico. Pisaflores and its smaller communities called ranchos, dot the interior and eastern edge of two mountain ranges forming the rugged Sierra Madre Oriental. To the west, mountains rise and gradually flatten to form the high altitude central plateau that dominates the interior of Mexico. The Municipality of Pisaflores spreads across a small thumb-print valley stamped into the mountainous region on the southeast edge of the State of San Luis Potosi, and the eastern border of Querétaro State. Even today, this municipio remains a remote location with few access roads — and Rancho Nuevo is the furthest and one of the most isolated satellite communities of Pisaflores.

One Canadian student who spent the summer of 1967 in Rancho Nuevo rememers that the only two visible artifacts of modernity in the settlement were a battery–operated radio and a steel pail used to haul water. (Maureen Kelly) At night, the Canadian students sat outside and marveled at the brilliance of the stars, and were given astronomy lessons by residents who knew the names of all of the constellations of the northern sky.

The rio Moctezuma is the main physical barrier blocking Pisaflores and Rancho Nuevo from the outside world. The western mountains are too rugged for vehicular access, and communities of this northern Hidalgo municipio are accessed from the eastern side. The Rio Moctezuma tumbles east and north from its origin in central Mexico near the archeological ruins at Tula, turns further to the northeast as it rambles around the outskirts of Pisaflores municipality and then makes a near 90º turn to continue around a spit of a mountain and past Rancho Nuevo. Tula is the legendary home of the famed Mexican deity Quetzacoatl, the Plumed Serpent, and the river Moctezuma that defines the limits of Pisaflores to the south and east is named after a great emperor of the Mexica people. Rancho Nuevo also lies on the west bank and the river physically separates it from the modern world and the national highway 85 high carved out of the mountainside a few hundred metres above its east bank.

Rancho Nuevo is situated on the northern Hidalgo and the southeastern San Luis Potosi state borders, a short 2 kilometres from a beautiful city named Tamazunchale in San Luis Potosi state. This is deep in the heart of the Huasteca region, and is famous for beautiful flowers, an abundance of birds and fascinating folk music traditions. Rancho Nuevo sits in a pastoral setting with a large meadow on its south, and has an abundance of tropical flowers and amazing variety of birds that thrive in its remoteness and proximity to water. More than 200 species of birds have been identified in this area, including different species of brilliantly coloured Toucans that nest in the trees and gardens of homes. Later in the summer, the neighbouring fields are filled with mariposas — beautiful blue butterflies that make the tropical sky even more azure in the early morning. Not far from here, in mountains to the west, lies the beautiful town of Xilitla (He-leet-la) where the regional abundance of exotic flowers, butterflies and numerous bird species attracted a wealthy Englishman named James Edwards. He came there to create a garden devoted to orchids in 1961— just a few short years before Lucille would spend the last weeks of her life in Rancho Nuevo.

Lucille spent most of her time living and working near the largest wooden building in Rancho Nuevo. It dominated the west side of the settlement and served as community hall, church, school and then as the dormitory for Canadian visitors. The children of Rancho Nuevo were fascinated by the strangers from Canada and early in the mornings gathered outside of the paneless windows of the building and peeked in with amusement. Canadian students who spent time in Rancho Nuevo remember being awakened by the sound of morning roosters the beautiful faces of smiling children outside of the school anxiously urging them to get the day underway.

It was in this beautiful tropical place that Lucille worked and played with the children, taught them in the school, and eventually fell ill. It was from here that the concerned residents carried her up an impossibly steep incline to the highway on the other side of the river so that her fellow Canadian students could transport her to a small hospital in Tamazunchale. When it was obvious that she was very sick, the doctors in Tamazunchale hoped to save her by sending her to Mexico City in an ambulance. But it wasn’t to be, and she died there on June 4, 1967. Her body was returned to her grieving family and friends in Montreal. She was in her 20th year of life when it tragically ended.

The last few weeks of her life were spent in an absolutely beautiful setting sharing the days with warm and kind people who greatly appreciated her presence, and were attracted to her beautiful and welcoming smile. There must be some consolation in knowing that her last images from this earthly world were filled with birds, butterflies, flowers and the smiling faces of children. Her death was a tragedy that affected everyone that knew her and even those who had not met her personally. It especially affected every Canadian student who traveled to Mexico with CIASP and left a deep and lasting impression that has never faded. I am continually amazed at how many people think of Lucille and remember her after all these years.

Recently, I found a poem called From within the Heavens written by a Mexica poet, and in reading it I couldn’t help but think of Lucille. The Mexica, who later were called the Aztecs, produced many skilled and famous poets, and in their Nahuatl language the term for poetry is a combination of two words — flowers and songs. Mexica poetry often presented sophisticated themes lamenting the transience of life and the meaning of death.

Pisaflores Municipal Glyph

From within the Heavens
by Ayocuan Cuetzpaltzin
(translated by Miguel León-Portilla)

From within the heavens they come,
the beautiful flowers, the beautiful songs,
but our yearning spoils them,
our inventiveness makes them lose their fragrance,
although not those of the Chichimec prince Tecayehuatzin.
With his, rejoice!

Friendship is a shower of precious flowers
White tufts of heron feathers
are woven with precious red flowers,
among the branches of the trees
under which stroll and sip
the lords and nobles

Your beautiful song is a golden wood thrush
most beautiful, you raise it up.
You are in a field of flowers.
Among the flowery bushes you sing.
Are you perchance a precious bird of the Giver of Life?
Perchance you have spoken with God?
As soon as you saw the dawn, you began to sing.
Would that I exert myself, that my heart desire,
the flowers of the shield, the flowers of the Giver of Life.

What can my heart do?
In vain we have come, we have blossomed forth on earth.
Will I have to go alone like the flowers that perish?
Will nothing remain of my name?
Nothing of my fame here on earth?
At least my flowers, at least my songs!

What can my heart do?
In vain we have come,
we have blossomed forth on earth.
Let us enjoy, O friends,
here we can embrace.
We stroll over the flowery earth.
No one here can do away with the flowers and the songs,
they will endure in the house of the Giver of Life

Earth is the region of the fleeting moment.
Is it also thus in the Place Where in Some Way One Lives?
Is one happy there?
Is there friendship?
Or is it only here on earth
we come to know our faces?

León Portilla, Miguel. 1992.
Fifteen poets of the Aztec world. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press.

The poet’s lament is an articulate vision about the ultimate meaning of life and death, friendship and memory: “What can my heart do? In vain we have come, we have blossomed forth on earth. Will I have to go alone like the flowers that perish? Will nothing remain of my name?”

The tragedy of Lucille’s death plunged each of us immediately into deep shock and we had no answers that could make sense of such an insensible event. But after four decades, do any of us still wonder whether her life was as fleeting as the beautiful flowers and songs of birds in Rancho Nuevo? Consider this — after all of this time there still are hundreds of people who remember her presence and admire the kindness and caring life she lived. The strength of those memories are a powerful statement that she had a real presence among us, and that there are powerful emotions attached to hearing her name. How can such deeply felt memories be meaningless when they remind of us of beauty, caring, butterflies, flowers, birds and song?