Tag Archives: brooke gazer

Allhallowtide: The Sacred, the Sublime, and the Silly

By Brooke Gazer

When Hernán Cortés sailed for Mexico, he was seeking fame and fortune, but the priests who followed had a more challenging purpose. They wanted to save souls and gain converts for the Catholic church. Many Aztec rituals, like those surrounding the Death Goddess Mictecacihuatl, appalled them, but these practices were so deeply ingrained that some could be traced back to the Toltec Period (800-1000 CE). In Mexico, as in much of the New World, conversion would require compromises and one technique was merging existing native rituals with Catholic ones. With this in mind, they moved the festival of Mictecacihuatl from July to November, and incorporated Christian concepts.

The notion of rearranging festival dates and focus was not a novel one. In 609 CE, Pope Boniface IV created a day to commemorate holy martyrs. Two hundred years later, Pope Gregory IV moved and expanded it to include all saints. This three day celebration became known in Europe as Allhallowtide – October 31, November 1 and 2.

For traditional Catholics, November 1 is All Saints’ Day; it may also be referred to as Day of the Innocents or Little Angels. Catholics are encouraged to pray for martyrs and saints as well as deceased children, who are assumed to be innocent. November 2 is All Souls’ Day, when Catholics pray for the souls of everyone else, including those who may have gone to Purgatory and are awaiting entry to heaven.

Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) is celebrated on the same dates, but in Mexico it bears little resemblance to what Pope Gregory IV originally had in mind. Deceased children are remembered on November 1 and adults on November 2. However, people are not praying for their souls to enter heaven; they are awaiting a reunion. Many traditional Mexicans believe that death is part of a continuing cycle, and that on this hallowed night, the spirits of their ancestors are able to walk among them.

Since the dead return at night, people begin sitting vigil the nights of October 31 and November 1. After dark, Mexican families gather at home in front of ofrendas (altars for the departed), and at the gravesite. They offer favorite foods and beverages while sharing stories about the deceased. It’s a joyful time, about celebrating the life of the person, not mourning their loss. One might compare this to an Irish wake, except that this is an annual event, and the spirits of the deceased are believed to consume the offerings left for them. Believers will tell you that the flavors are altered after the dead have inhaled their essences.

In addition to believing that a loved one may return to enjoy earthly pleasures, Mexicans have continued other indigenous practices. Marigolds, called cempasúchil from the Nahuatl (Aztec), were believed to awaken the dead. Graves and the altars displaying candy, alcohol, favorite foods, and small mementos, are heavily adorned with these distinct orange flowers. On a practical note, it bears mentioning that the pungent fragrance of marigolds repels ants, so that chocolate and other treats are not overrun by these tiny pests. Those ancient priests knew more than we give them credit for.

Candles also play a major role and cemeteries are brightly lit with hundreds of velas as families gather to welcome their loved ones back to earth. Candles are part of Catholic rituals that have merged into this festival and it is believed that the light from the flames helps to guide the spirit home.

If you have an opportunity to visit a cemetery in Mexico during this time, it is an awe-inspiring experience. People are proud of the artistry employed in decorating their loved one’s graves and will welcome you as long as you are respectful. Oaxaca is one of the most traditional states in Mexico, so it stands to reason that this is an excellent place to experience this spectacular celebration of life. Unfortunately, with COVID-19, this might not be the year to visit.

While not all Mexicans celebrate Día de los Muertos, most do – if only to respect their ancestors. It is a lovely ritual, like agnostics decorating a tree and exchanging gifts in December. Adorning a grave or an altar is way to remember loved ones and allowing ourselves to do this is a healthy tradition that we might all benefit from.

This holiday should not be confused with the festival that we call Halloween. Since they share the same origins, the date overlaps, but this is where the similarity ends. During the medieval period in Ireland and Britain, Christians and pagans gathered around bonfires on Allhallowtide to ask for God’s protection from the evil in the world. It became tradition to dress in costumes of saints and demons and act out battles of good vs. evil. Somehow when this antiquated tradition crossed the Atlantic, it was adapted into a frivolous candy fest for children.

Halloween pales in comparison to Mexico’s spectacle, seeming rather crass to those who never grew up with it. For a child, however, the allure of dressing like a kitten or maybe as Superman and filling a sack with free Chiclets, Reese’s Pieces and mini Hershey bars is irresistible. Even as far south as Huatulco, this American/Canadian tradition is creeping into the culture. Each year, I notice more kids roaming our streets and begging for treats. An interesting twist, however, is that in Mexico time has a different perspective, so that local kids have cleverly extended October 31 into a multi-night candy grab.

Brooke Gazer operates Agua Azul la Villa,
an ocean-view B&B in Huatulco.
http://www.bbaguaazul.com.

Mexican Mangos

By Brooke Gazer

Originating in South Asia, the first mango trees arrived in Mexico via the Philippines, in 1779. At one time, China dominated world mango exports, but Mexico now holds that distinction. In 2015, Mexico exported 277,000 metric tons (±305,340 US tons) to the USA, and 368,000 metric (±405,651 US tons) in 2019 – that was 18% of Mexico’s production. While Mexico currently produces many mango varieties, the two most commonly exported are the Tommy Atkins and the Ataúlfo.

Weighing up to two pounds, Tommy Atkins is a large mango covered with a green, yellow, and red mottled skin. Inside this mildly sweet fruit, the orange flesh is juicy but highly fibrous. Originally cultivated by a Florida grower bearing its name, Tommy Atkins may not be the tastiest of all mangos, but it is the favorite among importers throughout Canada, the USA, and most of Europe. This is due to its long shelf life and its ability to be transported with minimal bruising. The Tommy Atkins is grown extensively throughout the Americas and represents up to 49% of all Mexico’s mango production.

The tastier Ataúlfo mango is about half the size, with golden skin and flesh of a similar tone. Unlike the fibrous Tommy Atkins, this fruit has a rich creamy texture, the sweetness of honey, and a relatively small flat pit. It was named after Ataúlfo Morales Gordillo, a grower from Chiapas who developed this particularly delicious variety. In Mexico, Ataúlfos are grown commercially in Chiapas, Oaxaca, Nayarit, Sinaloa, and Michoacán.

With its smooth buttery texture and sweet rich flavor, this could be considered the champagne of mangos. And just as the bubbly wine from France is protected for authenticity, the Ataúlfo mango is protected by Mexican Institute of Industrial Property. When other countries began producing and exporting the Ataúlfo, they called it a “Champagne Mango.” In some places, these sold better than the original Ataúlfo, since gringos had difficulty pronouncing and remembering the Spanish name. To make it more marketable, in 2017, the National Mango Board of the U.S. Department of Agriculture renamed it “Honey Mango.” Whatever they call it, this is the same sweet fruit with a soft creamy texture.

Mangos are an important part of Mexican cuisine, and this country is proud of their contribution to the mango species. Mexico has not adopted the English names – here it is still referred to as Ataúlfo. Those of us living in Huatulco will have no difficulty remembering the name, which is pronounced A -TOOL-fo, and rhymes with Wha – TOOL- co.

Environmentalists suggest we favor eating locally grown food to cut down on shipping foods over long distances, thus reducing agriculture’s carbon footprint. Mango transportation might be an exception. Like all trees, mangos absorb carbon dioxide from the environment and release oxygen back into the atmosphere in a process called carbon sequestration. While trucking the mangos to their final destination inevitably produces greenhouse gases, researchers in Nayarit and Sinaloa determined that the average mango tree sequesters two to two-and-a-half times the carbon emitted while transporting fruit to the U.S. In Chiapas, mango trees absorb seven times the carbon that is emitted. So, whereever you are, go ahead and indulge yourself.

Some people are wary of consuming mangos because they are high in sugar. They are, but they are also low in fat, high in soluble fiber, and rich in vitamin C, vitamin A, iron, copper, and potassium. One cup of cubed mango equals about 100 calories, the same as a slice of bread or a four-ounce glass of dry white wine.

When I serve mangos at breakfast, guests frequently ask how I am able to cut the fruit in half, maintaining a smooth clean surface in the center? The answer is simple – I can’t, the mango is actually cut into three pieces. The center part is reserved for a different use, possibly a smoothie or chopped up and added to salsa. There are so many ways to use mangos, and one of my favorites is mango fish. In this simple recipe I prefer the juicer, less sweet Tommy Atkins.

Mango Fish

This will serve 4 people. I use dorado (which may be called dolphin fish or mahi-mahi up north), but any firm white fish will do.

3-4 Tommy Atkins mangos
oil for frying
4 pieces fish 1” thick, about 6-8 oz each (in Huatulco, ask for dorado en lonja)
2 cloves of garlic, chopped fine
1 cup white wine
a few shakes of Valentina sauce
salt and pepper
chopped cilantro

1. Peel and slice the mangos, then cut about 1½ cups into ½-1″ cubes.
2. Put the remaining mango into the blender, squeezing all the juice from the skin and pit into the blender. Blend until the mango is a smooth purée. This should give you about 1½ cups of purée.
3. Cover the bottom of a frying pan with the oil and heat it; add the garlic and then the fish. Sear the fish for about 1 minute on each side. Remove it and keep on a plate. Do not wash the pan.
4. Pour the mango purée into the frying pan and use the wine to rinse out the blender. Add that to the pan and use a spatula to stir in any bits of fish and garlic remaining on the bottom of the pan. Add Valentina sauce, salt and pepper to taste.
5. When it comes to a boil, return the fish along with any liquid it may have sweated, and reduce the heat.
6. Turn the fish to coat it with sauce, and continue to simmer until the fish is cooked.
7. Add the mango cubes just long enough to warm them.
8. Place the fish and mango cubes over rice or quinoa and drizzle the sauce over top. Garnish with cilantro.

Brooke Gazer operates Agua Azul la Villa, an ocean-view Bed and Breakfast in Huatulco http://www.bbaguaazul.com.

Five Fabulous Flowering Trees in Huatulco

By Brooke Gazer

It was the end of May when we drove into Huatulco for the first time. I recall being struck by the magnificent trees lining the green boulevards, especially those flaunting a riot of color. Who wouldn’t be impressed seeing them in all their glory? It is unfortunate that many visitors to our town miss this beautiful season, when the trees are most striking. Here is a list of my five favorites, accompanied by a bit of trivia on each.

The first three require a lot of space and may be too large for most home gardens, but they can be readily admired while walking along the wide median on Chahue Boulevard. The last two are certainly no less impressive and are more suitable for domestic gardens.

Flamboyant (flamboyán) … When in bloom, you can’t miss them. From April through June, clusters of delicate, bright scarlet flowers bunch together, forming enormous crimson bouquets that cover the entire tree. When this occurs, the tree appears to be on fire, which is where it derives the name. Flamboyant is from the French flambé, meaning “in flames,” as in baked Alaska flambé.

These broad shade trees can go dormant in the dry season, but with year-round watering, they keep some of their delicate fernlike leaves. When the blossoms disappear, they are replaced by flat, leathery pods, up to 60 cm (about 2 feet) long. Dozens of mature pods hang from the branches like skinny bats, giving the flamboyant tree an eerie appearance when denuded of foliage.

There are several varieties of flamboyant trees, but the species found in Mexico is Delonix Regia, which originated in Madagascar. If you have the space for a shade tree, and seek (almost) instant gratification, this one can shoot up by over a meter per year, reaching a height of 10-12 meters (up to 40 feet), with an even greater spread. But take care, invasive roots can interfere with building foundations and sidewalks, something you may have noticed stumbling over uneven pavements around town.

Golden Shower Tree (lluvia de oro) … While not seen as frequently in Huatulco as the flamboyant, these marvelous ornamentals grace many of Huatulco’s streets. From April to September, long sprays of bright yellow flowers droop in clusters from its branches, like rain falling from the clouds. A mature 15-meter (almost 50 feet) tree can spread up to 12 meters (40 feet) across. This deciduous tree loses its long, glossy leaves during the dry season, but with regular irrigation, it retains some foliage. Even as the tree is in full flower, seed pods appear as dark brown cylinders, about 2 cm (about ¾”) in diameter and can be up to 90 cm (almost a yard) long, hanging from its branches.

Cassia Fistula is native to southern India and has spread to southeast Asia; it is both the national tree and the national flower of Thailand. Aside from its beauty, this ornamental also bears the name Aragvadha, meaning “disease killer” in Ayurvedic medicine. Ayurveda, or “science of life” in Sanskrit, is a natural healing practice, originating over 3,000 years ago in India. It is believed that various parts of the Golden Shower Tree provide remedies for practically every infirmity from constipation to cancer.

African Tulip Tree (tulipán) … Not only is this tree green year-round, it produces masses of enormous, red-orange flowers throughout the year. Large clusters of buds appear at the end of the branches, and each bud opens to form a five-petal bloom of 8-15 cm (3-6″). The flowers are trumpet shaped, with ruffled edges; hence the name “tulip tree.”

Native to tropical Africa, Spathodea campanulata is part of the bignonia or trumpet vine family. This tropical evergreen can reach up to 25 meters (over 80 feet), with abundant, dark green foliage. Its leaves have a matte finish and are slightly rough to the touch.

When the showy blossoms fade, long boat shaped capsules stuffed with seeds appear, and as they open, copious quantities of seeds are released. Even if space allows, you might think twice before introducing the “King of Flowering Trees” into your garden. Those seeds form roots rapidly, and are hard to control, which is why this species is listed among the world’s top 100 most invasive. I can only assume it is through the diligence of Huatulco’s ninety some workers who diligently care for our parks and boulevards, that we do not see an overabundance of African tulip trees in Huatulco.

Bougainvillea (bugambilia) … Native to South America, this ornamental may technically be a shrub, but is easily trained as tree. Several roots planted in unison form a single trunk, allowing the thorny branches to make a canopy of colorful blossoms all around it.

The botanist Jeanne Baret was the first woman to circumvent the globe, and it has been speculated that she was the first European to observe this delicate flower. In 1776, women were forbidden to sail, so, on the four-year voyage headed by Admiral Louis-Antoine de Bougainville, she disguised herself as her lover’s valet. The lover, Philibert Commerson, took credit for the discovery and named it after Admiral de Bougainville.

With over 300 varieties of bougainvillea worldwide, the range of colors and hues is endless. Bunches of delicate white, yellow. purple, pink, or red “flowers” – the colorful parts are actually bracts – appear all along its thorny branches. The actual flowers are tiny and waxy, white or pale yellow, in the center of the bracts. At times, bougainvillea blooms can be so profuse, they render the small, green leaves practically invisible.

With water, this hearty species stays green and produces blossoms year-round. Depending on the variety, mature bougainvillea can reach between 6-12 meters (20-40 feet) high. Branches might spread an equal distance but require careful pruning to enhance flowering. Under optimal conditions, bougainvillea can achieve about one meter (just over three feet) per year.

Whether as a tree, bush or vine, this ornamental will provide a rewarding burst of color to any garden in Huatulco. Bougainvillea are so common here, it hardly warrants mentioning a location where one might see them.

Plumeria (plumeria, flor de mayo) … Endemic to Mexico, Central and South America, there are 11 sub-species of this tropical flowering tree, each with a multitude of varieties, offering a diverse range of colors or combination of colors, including creamy white, yellow, pale pink and fuchsia. In Mexico, these exotic blossoms were used in rituals by pre-Hispanic Mayans and Aztecs. In Hawaii and parts of Asia, the flowers are strung into “leis,” garlands to adorn women’s hair or wear around the neck.

Also called “frangipani,” the various species of plumeria produce a prolific display of blossoms with a delicate waxy texture and an intoxicating scent. The name frangipani originates with a 16th-century Italian marquis of the family Frangipani. The marquis created a perfume used to scent ladies’ fine leather gloves. The fragrance from this New World flower reminded people of the scented European accessory.

With shiny, dark green, elongated leaves, 20-30 cm long, most varieties reach a height of 4-6 meters (12-20 feet), but some might attain a height of 12 meters (40 feet). Plumeria blooms in the spring, but with sufficient water, a second season is possible after a dormant period. In its leafless dormant stage, this is not an attractive plant. Most trees limbs branch off into progressively finer branches; plumeria boughs simply reach an award stubby conclusion. However, the exotic blossoms that spring extravagantly from these boughs will compensate for what it lacks part of the year.

Plumeria are part of a larger family called Apocynaceae, also known as the dogbane family, because some were used as dog poison. A cut plumeria branch emits a milky substance that can irritate the eyes and skin.

This striking flowering tree can be seen in many locations around town, but on Boulevard Benito Juárez, as it passes by the Hotel Binniguenda in Santa Cruz, you will see several along the median next to the canal.

I understand that for many visitors to Huatulco, the draw is mainly to escape their freezing inhospitable winter climate. But for those who visit only October through March … you might be missing a major attraction!

Brooke Gazer operates Agua Azul la villa, an ocean view Bed and Breakfast in Huatulco (www.bbaguaazul.com).

And the Earth Moved!

By Brooke Gazer

Yes, there’s been “a whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on” down here but we are all fine. The activity began Monday night with two shakes around 8 PM. I was in the pool during the second one and it certainly created a big splash. The big one that hit Tuesday morning caught me in the shower at 10:30 AM. We are accustomed the odd shake-rattle-and-roll, so normally I kind of ignore them. However, this one felt a bit stronger and I grabbed my towel, wondering if I’d have time to get dressed before I needed to evacuate. Then it stopped and as I walked from the bathroom to the bedroom, my jaw dropped. The far side of the bedroom was covered with broken glass, books, and bits of memorabilia that had flown off the bookshelf. I’m thinking I was pretty lucky because not ten minutes earlier, I was sitting in that same spot, grooming my dog.

In the kitchen there were several broken items on the floor, along with the contents of broken storage jars: flour, sugar, coffee and spices. We found the same kind of chaos in our office/library.

The good news is that that was the extent of the damage, no structural damage, no broken windows, no broken pipes, and most importantly, no broken bones. Our maid helped get the house back in order before she left to assess the damage to her own home. We are still practicing social distancing in Huatulco, so her ten-year-old son was home alone. She called him, and fortunately he had run to his grandmother’s house and everyone there was okay.

Since that episode, we have felt dozens of aftershocks, nothing nearly as great, but it does put you on edge. Our poor dog, he is far more sensitive and every new wave sends him into a tizzy. Like Chicken Little, I’m sure he believes “the sky is falling.” At about 2:00 PM the day after the earthquake, my husband and I took him for a car ride through the center of town, thinking he would feel better in a moving car than a moving house. That helped to calm him. He is still a bit on edge but has stopped whining every time the earth moves.

One of the advantages of living in a FONATUR development is that the resources are there to get things cleaned up quickly (Oh, just felt another shake and my computer screen is still wobbling). There were several rock slides and a large tree blocked the highway in Tangolunda. All this had been cleared off the roads by the time we got there. In the town center there is some damage to facades and a lot of roof tiles on the ground. But we did not see any collapsed buildings.

I thought we might stop at the Italian specialty store, but it was closed. I looked in the window and it was distressing. Half their stock had fallen on the floor; broken bottles of wine and jars of imported condiments. To me, this is the biggest tragedy, because I am sure this was not an isolated incident. After three months of pandemic lockdown, in this town that exists only for tourism, many small businesses have been holding on by a rather thin thread. I fear that losing their stock may snap that final thread.

To Be or Not to Be … Parents

By Brooke Gazer

Several years ago, a young Mexican couple staying at our B&B asked us a lot of questions about our life and our decision not to have children. We aren’t shy about talking about ourselves, so at the time, I didn’t think much about it.

As they were leaving, she hugged me, saying, “Thank you so much for sharing your experience with us because you helped us come to an important decision. Our parents have been pressuring us for grandchildren and we’ve been pondering about this over the past year. When we get home, we’ve decided to tell them not to expect grandchildren. Meeting the two of you, and seeing you’re content, has given us the courage to make this decision and to tell our parents about it.”

With this, they climbed into their taxi and drove away. Shaking my head, I said jokingly, “I hope they don’t mention us to their family when they drop that bombshell. Her mother’s likely to contract a hit on us if she discovers we’re responsible.”

There has been a growing trend in Mexico, among young, urban, well-educated couples to choose not to have children. This is still a rare phenomenon, but according to INEGI (Instituto Nacional de Estadística y Geographía, which conducts the Mexican census), the number of families without children grew by 10.4% from 2014 to 2016. The director of the Municipal Women’s Institute of Xalapa (Instituto Municipal de Las Mujeres de Xalapa, or IMMX), points out that “It is increasingly common to observe couples without children or women who decide from an early age not to reproduce.”

In Veracruz, one clinic reported that doing 134 vasectomies over a ten-day period was normal, but what was unusual was that four patients were between 20-30. These men were accompanied by their wives and had not had children.

Over the past five years, realtors are seeing more couples buying homes and apartments suitable for only two people. When asked how much space may be needed for future children, a growing number reply that there may be a dog but not a child.

In the 1970’s, Mexico’s National Council on Population (Consejo Nacional de Población, or CONAPO) began promoting smaller families in Mexico. Since then, the average number of children per female has dropped from 6.1 to 2.15. But there is still social and family pressure for couples to reproduce. Perhaps thinking their smaller-family campaign was a little too successful, CONAPO subtly fosters this pressure by issuing predictions like this one: “If a couple has a child, they would live five years longer than previous generations and their quality of life would increase.”

It seems that some couples just aren’t buying into this; there are a number of reasons couples make the decision not to have children, which don’t seem to differ that much from reasons north of the border.
· Many young women have devoted years to their education and climbing the corporate or institutional ladder. In 1960, less than 1% of Mexican women held a university degree. Fifty years later (2010), it was almost 16 percent – just a fraction behind their male peers. By this point, they are reluctant to jeopardize what they have accomplished.
· A few people feel they are unable to cope with the rigors of parenting, or fear that their relationship cannot withstand the pressure a child would introduce.
· Some believe it unwise to procreate with today’s environmental, political, economic, and social problems. They are not optimistic about the future and fear for the next generation.
· In Mexico, the cost of bearing and raising a child to the age of 18 ranges from $2.7 to $8 million pesos, with about 25% of this eaten up by education. This figure does not include a university education, which better educated couples would also be expected to provide.
· A growing number of Mexican couples prefer to enjoy life and spend their income on themselves. In the 1980s Canadian advertising agencies coined the term DINKS (double income, no kids) to apply to this important market segment.

Whatever their reason, this is something Mexico may need to contend with in the future. Today in Canada, there are more seniors than children under 14, and immigration was responsible for two-thirds of the population growth from 2011 to 2016. Mexico’s birthrate has been decreasing steadily, with over 400,000 fewer births in the last decade than the decade before. Most of this is a result of the government promoting smaller families, but the trend not to have families is also a contributing factor. It is unlikely the trend in Mexico would continue towards a negative growth rate, but nothing is impossible.

Prior to reliable birth control, couples may have postponed adding to their families, but eventually babies appeared. Everyone rejoiced when they did, – regardless of the economic or emotional strain that may or may not have ensued. I’ve known people who should never have had children, as well as older women who admitted that if they had it to do again, they would not.

Today, couples who are choosing not to be parents are still swimming against the current, but most tend to be educated and are making a conscious, well thought out decision. I’m not recommending this for everyone, but I think it is easier today, even in Mexico, for couples who do not feel a strong parental pull to make this decision.

Brooke Gazer operates Agua Azul la Villa,
an ocean-view B&B in Huatulco (www.bbaguaazul.com).

Driving in Huatulco

By Brooke Gazer

When we first drove into Huatulco, in May of 1999, we were impressed by the wide paved streets that were bordered by green, well-groomed boulevards, and bedecked with stately palm trees. Twenty-one years later, there may be a few more potholes, but FONATUR, the federal tourism promotion agency that manages the resort, has done a superb job of maintaining the major streets in our town. What has changed is the amount of traffic. During those early years, it felt as if we had the roads practically to ourselves and more than two cars at any intersection could be considered a traffic jam.

The increase in traffic is not just related to population growth; back in the early 90s, financing a car or motorbike was practically impossible, and this limited the number of people who could purchase their own transportation. A local friend wanted a car, and this was how he purchased it. He joined a group where each member put in an initial sum of cash. Every month everyone added to the kitty until there was enough capital to buy one vehicle. They drew names and the lucky member drove away with his new purchase. My friend paid into this scheme for almost two years before it was his turn to own a vehicle. Of course, everyone continued paying until all the cars were paid for, but when they got one was literally “the luck of the draw.” Today, traditional financing is much more common, but only on new cars. This explains why we see so many shiny new vehicles cruising around town.

First, I want to explain one of the quirks about driving in Mexico (or at least in Huatulco). As a Canadian, I’ve been conditioned to follow the rules, so when we began living here, I stopped at intersections with stop signs. I looked right, left, and right again before proceeding. In our first month, I learned this wasn’t the correct way to drive in Huatulco.

When a woman bumped into me from behind, I jumped out of my car and in broken Spanish, I tried to ask for her driver’s license and insurance, even before assessing any damage.

She was incensed and ignored my request. “What were you doing? What did you stop for?”

I pointed to the red hexagon on the side of the road, “Well, there’s a stop sign …”

“But there’s no traffic. Why would you stop when no one’s coming? No one with any sense stops for nothing. Are you drunk or just stupid?”

Seeing there was no real damage to either vehicle, I slunk back into my car and drove away. This was a cheap lesson on Huatulco road etiquette.

A few years ago, the town installed its first traffic light at the intersection where my mishap occurred. By this time, traffic had increased significantly in our little town, and I envisioned local drivers ignoring the new signals, sailing through a red light, and multiple crashes. The chief of police must have been on the same wavelength; he stationed officers with whistles and ropes strung across the intersection. After several weeks, local drivers understood that a red light required them to stop regardless of traffic flow.

We now have five controlled intersections and most vehicles actually do stop. Like everyone else, I wait at traffic lights but sail through stop signs as if they’re merely a suggestion. Occasionally this causes a gasp from a guest I’m chauffeuring, but I assure them it’s the only safe way to drive. People don’t always follow rules as strictly as we from up north are accustomed to; one-way streets might also be merely a suggestion, and adhering to the speed limit could cause a collision. But on the whole, traffic flows smoothly, and drivers are courteous and flexible.

The same generalization does not apply to motorcycles. Many are courteous, but a few can be unnerving. It peeves me when I leave a comfortable space cushion between me and the vehicle in front, and a motorcycle weaves around me to fill the space. However, I understand that one’s personal space in Latin America is considerably smaller than I am accustomed to, so, regardless of the safety concern, I chalk it up to a cultural difference. What I really find annoying is when a motorcycle buzzes up on my right at an intersection and cuts me off as it turns left, just as I am about to go forward. Originally, I suspected they didn’t know any better but a visit to the state police office assured me they do, and the problem is one of attitude. Some drivers either have a death wish or believe they are immortal.

Elektra and Chedraui finance these machines to young people with only a small deposit and payments as low as $250 pesos weekly. It made me wonder how many injuries and fatalities result from it being too easy to acquire a motorbike? According to state police records, nine accidents with serious injuries or deaths involving motorcycles were reported in 2019. The damages assessed totaled a whopping $180 million pesos. I was surprised by the low number of accidents, but discovered that unless a death or significant injury occurs, most are never reported. You can’t legislate common sense, but I wonder if these kids paid in advance for the motorbike would they treat them, along with their fellow drivers, with more caution and respect?

Still, by the overall standards of Mexico, driving in Huatulco is a piece of cake.

Brooke Gazer operates Agua Azul la Villa, an ocean-view Bed and Breakfast in Huatulco: http://www.bbaguaazul.com.

What Became of the Yaquis?

By Brooke Gazer

A tall and athletically built people who valued their autonomy, the Yaquis were never totally subdued by the Spanish. After a peace treaty was agreed upon in 1610, the Yaquis relinquished part of their land in exchange for a guarantee, signed by the King of Spain, acknowledging their ownership of their remaining territory in southern Sonora. At that time, they numbered between 100,000 and 200,000 people. Every Mexican government respected this treaty until Porfirio Díaz came to power.

Coveting their fertile lands, the state of Sonora harassed them, sending soldiers and surveyors into their territory, confiscating bank accounts, and burning the home of their leader. In 1894, the federal government confiscated their best land, giving it to General Lorenzo Torres, head of the Sonoran army.

Over the next few years, thousands of soldiers and ten thousand Yaquis died in battle. In 1898, government troops acquired new improved Mauser rifles, which critically overmatched the poorly armed Yaquis; surrender was imminent. Yaqui leaders were executed, and the remaining Yaquis relocated to a region that was barren desert. Without water it was uninhabitable, causing most families to scatter as wage earners in mines, on railroads, and farms. These people became solid citizens and were considered the best workers in Mexico. The remaining four or five thousand formed bands of fierce rebels who took to the hills. They were hunted down like vermin and soldiers received $100 for the ears of a Yaqui guerilla.

The army’s failure to secure the surrender of “a handful of renegades” prompted an extreme government action and in 1908, notices appeared in American and Mexican newspapers. President Díaz had issued a sweeping order that every Yaqui, man, woman and child, should be gathered up by the War Department and deported to the Yucatán. This was not limited to rebels – it included every living Yaqui, young and old alike.

After John Kenneth Turner heard rumors about the fate of these people, he traveled south to investigate and what he learned was not pretty.

Without warning, soldiers rounded up families and herded them to the port of Guaymas, Sonora, where an exhausting journey over land and sea began. They were stuffed into boxcars or the stinking holds of ships; they were marched over two hundred miles of Mexico’s roughest mountains. Between ten and twenty percent died of exhaustion or starvation along the way. The survivors were sold like livestock. Husbands and wives were torn apart, and children ripped away from their mothers.

On board a ship, Turner learned that over fifteen thousand Yaquis had been transported on that vessel. Speaking first-hand with Yaquis, he heard them lament that they had pled to their employers, unsuccessfully, for their release. He listened as they grieved for wives and children who dropped in the dust and died during the arduous trek across the mountains. He felt helpless when they beseeched him to intervene for their freedom.

The new arrivals were put to work on henequén plantations, where thousands of Mayans had already been enslaved. Slavery was abolished in Mexico in 1829, but when Turner arrived in the Yucatan in 1908, it was an integral part of the economy.

Semantically, the Mayans were not slaves, they were “debtors.” Professional money lenders lured poverty-stricken Mayans into debt; sometimes the debt included the entire family. They were forced to work under unbearably harsh conditions on large plantations that fueled the rich economy of the region. Once declared a debtor, no one could never buy his or her freedom – the debt continued to grow, and was passed on to future generations.

The masters never considered that they were buying or selling a person, rather they were transferring the debt and the man went with it. However, the amount the man originally owed was irrelevant, and the debt had a market price, just like machinery or cattle.

The government transferred Yaquis to landowners the same way, but at discount prices, and one owner told Turner, “We don’t allow the Yaquis to get in debt to us.” The owner received a photograph and identification papers with each individual; if one ran away, the papers were sufficient for the authorities to return the runaway. The desert terrain of the Yucatan made escape impossible.

This was a miserable existence for both Mayans and Yaquis alike. Both received equally brutal treatment; they were underfed, overworked, and brutally beaten. But It was far worse for the Yaquis; exhausted and starved upon arrival, two thirds died within the first year. The Mayans could at least maintain a semblance of home and family ties. Yaquis were exiled far from home; thrust into a hot, unfamiliar climate; and separated from family and loved ones.

For the newly arrived Yaqui women, life became especially insufferable. The worst barbarity imposed upon each wretched female, who had just been separated from her husband, was to compel her to marry and live with a man of Chinese origin. Chinese men were brought to Mexico as porters, and laborers to build the railroad. It was often a one-way ticket and later, when they fell into debt, they were also enslaved.

The Yaquis had an advanced culture that did not mix with other people, even other indigenous groups. Their religious beliefs combined Roman Catholic teachings with traditional indigenous practices; family and conjugal fidelity were integral parts of their value system. These women did not know the fates of their husbands, but hoped and prayed they had survived. In their minds, they were still married. To take a second husband was repugnant to them, as was mating with men outside their own tribe.

Yaqui women were housed separately from Yaqui men, with a dozen or more in each tiny hut. Fed meager rations, they were locked inside under pitiful conditions. Each week they took the women out, demanding they choose husbands from among the Chinese men. After several refusals, one was chosen for them. Those who resisted were severely lashed.

Many women perished from starvation and beatings, but those who survived and continued their resistance were put into the henequén fields, forced to do the same backbreaking labor as any man. This entailed harvesting two thousand henequén leaves per day and failure to achieve the daily quota resulted in 15 lashes administered by the overseer.

It seems as if the purpose of this atrocity was not only to punish the Yaqui, but to annihilate them altogether. Why else would they separate women from their husbands and force them to mate with men of a different cultural and ethnic background?

Some Yaquis did flee Sonora and avoid capture. They went north to the USA or to other parts of Mexico, and a few continued their resistance in the hills of Sonora. In 1937, President Lázaro Cárdenas granted the surviving Yaquis their own territory with access to irrigation from a newly constructed dam. Mexico’s 2000 census counted 12,467 Yaquis in Sonora plus some in Baja California and Sinaloa. In 1964, those in the USA received a smaller allocation of land and by 2008, they counted 11,324. This may be a sadly reduced number, but in spite of everything, their culture survived.

Much of this information was taken from a book titled Barbarous Mexico (1910), by John Kenneth Turner. This Los Angeles Express Reporter traveled south, posing as a potential land investor, to investigate rumors he had heard about Mexicans being enslaved in the Yucatán. You can read the entire book online with this link:
https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Barbarous_Mexico.

Brooke Gazer operates Agua Azul la Villa,
an oceanview B&B in Huatulco (www.bbaguaazul.com).