Travel Journal: Purhépecha Meseta

The entrance to the Purhépecha Meseta (Plateau) is a narrow, grassy valley sandwiched between mountains  rising up on both sides. When it is overcast, the entrance is hidden from us in Pátzcuaro.  But on clear days, the entrance beckons to us.

Not too far west of Pátzcuaro, the Meseta is one of our favorite jaunts. When the call becomes irresistible, there’s nothing left to do but arrange for Pablo, our favorite driver, to take us for an afternoon recorrido (tour).  

At 7,000 feet, Pátzcuaro is already at altitude, but the two-lane highway climbs another 1,000 feet or so as it  ascends to the Meseta. Once up on the Meseta, the surrounding mountain peaks easily rise nearly another 3,000 feet.  The natural beauty of these lands defies description—and at times defeats the camera’s lens. 

Arriving at the Meseta, which spreads out in front of us.

The Meseta is home to the Purhépecha people, who were never defeated by the Aztecs. When the Purhépechas learned of the Aztecs’ devastating defeat at the hands of the Spanish, they sent a delegation to  Cortés to inform him that they were prepared to become subjects of the Spanish king. Unfortunately, their acceptance of Spanish rule did not inoculate them against the brutal excesses of Cortés’ soldiers.

Fortunately, Bishop Vasco de Quiroga—intent on establishing a Utopia among the indigenous peoples of Nueva España—arrived and intervened on their behalf with the Spanish military.  Part of Bishop Quiroga’s strategy was to help the Purhépecha develop gainful livelihoods under Spanish rule. To this end, he allegedly assigned a specific craft to each pueblo. However, our Purhépecha friends tell us that Bishop Quiroga merely formalized artisan traditions already well-established in the communities. Today many of these artisan crafts enjoy international recognition.

But this time our trip wasn't so much focused on the artesanía as it was on pure and simple enjoyment of this beautiful natural setting.  We were on a wanderweg, or (as our Australian friends say) a walkabout.  So as we meandered slowly up the Meseta, we asked Pablo to stop so Reed could photograph the flowers.   

Lupine were in bloom all along the roadside.

These blue flowers look like what in the U.S. is called "Blue-Eyed Grass." 

This delicate white flower is a nettle!  

In keeping with our intent to meander, we took the turn-off to San Isidro, a small pueblo we usually pass by. We were enchanted by the setting, the rural quiet and by the charming, freshly painted plaza that is the pueblo's center.

Band stands are a common feature in the plazas of many Mexican towns.

Here's an inviting place to sit. This two-story house is the only two-story house on the plaza.

Compañeros (Partners)

                                   Ejidos are lands that were distributed by the Mexican government (President Lázaro Cárdenas) after the Mexican Revolution to indigenous communities

Each family has its own 'plot' in the ejido but the land itself is owned by members of the community. NAFTA introduced changes to the Mexican Constitution that allowed ejido lands to be sold, which has been a source of considerable conflict.  In contrast, comuneros are indigenous lands that have always been held by the indigenous community; they can be sold only to other members of the indigenous community. The comunero system predates the arrival of the Spanish.  

Leaving San Isidro we pass by el Panteón de San Isidro (the cemetary) and stop to take a picture. 

Mexican cemeteries are remarkable for their vitality - that's corn growing in the foreground

In his inimitable way, Pablo commented that he'd like to be buried here because there's plenty of corn nearby to keep him fed with tortillas. His remark is in keeping with his oft-repeated mantra, "Primero la panza" (first, the belly).

Milpa (Cornfields) adjoining the cemetery

Who is Pablo? He is our favorite Monarca driver. Born and raised in Mexico City, Pablo is in his early 40's. He is short, trim, and always neatly dressed. He maintains his car impeccably.

Initially attracted by his sense of humor, we have come to appreciate Pablo's intelligence and calm temperament. When things go wrong--as they can--he lightens the moment with a nonchalant, "Detalles, detalles" (Details, details). He takes an entrepreneurial approach to his taxi business, has several clients (including us) who contact him directly rather than calling the Monarca Dispatcher and is in demand for long distance trips. 

In the United States, Pablo would be a small business owner, or at least a middle manager. We have met many men like Pablo. In our experience, they keep Mexico going.  

The views as we leave San Isidro are so striking that we stop more than once for Reed to take pictures. 

Fields nestle up right against the mountains,

where forests are maintained to provide leña (firewood)

During our first visit to the Meseta, it took me awhile to figure out what was different about these fields. Then it dawned on me: there are no houses here, no buildings at all.  The lands are farmed communally, and all the campesinos live with their families in the pueblos. Each day they make their way out to the fields either by walking (yes!), or perhaps riding a horse or burro, or they ride in a pickup truck. 

Pablo and I were both startled when Reed suddenly ordered, "Stop here, please."  Clearly, Reed spotted something important, but Pablo and I were still in the dark when Reed got out of the car and went to the other side of the road for a better shot.  What had caught his eye?

  Globalization arrives on the Meseta - Cellphone tower just outside pastoral San Isidro

On this discordant note, we headed farther out onto the Meseta--heading toward Paracho, the pueblo whose specialty is making world-class guitars.  We traveled along this road.

And here's the view that greeted us as we came around the bend:

The lands roll away from us--layer after layer.  The landscape on the Meseta is layered in a way that reminds me of the many levels of Mexican culture.  My favorites places are those where the land rolls away from the road, such that it feels as if we are quite literally on top of the world.  It is a breathtaking experience--impossible to photograph.

Then just to make sure we're still paying attention, this extinct volcano came into view.  

The state of Michoacán is on the Eje Volcánico (Volcanic Axis) that cinches Mexico east and west like a belt. My map geek husband has 'flown' GoogleMaps across our part of Michoacán.  His comment:  "I had no idea there were so many extinct volcanoes; the countryside is like the surface of the moon." 

Eventually, we arrived in Paracho, where Reed took this picture across Paracho's red-tiled roofs of the jagged peak known as Purhépecha.  GoogleMaps gives the elevation of the peak as 10,700 feet and Paracho as 7,300 feet.  As Reed snapped the photo, the rains moved in again.

As I complete this Post, I face a difficult choice.  I can end the Post here, but if I do, I ignore current reality. The truth is that Reed and I took this trip a year ago in June, when the Meseta was quiet.

In the last few months, the tranquility of these ancient lands has been threatened by the encroachment of bootleg loggers associated with the cartels. These men are illegally logging valuable lumber from comunero lands that have belonged to the pueblo (people) of Cherán forever--since before the arrival of the Spanish. The deforestation resulting from their illegal activity has already denuded one forest and now threatens the sustainability of a second forest.

To counter this threat, the people of Cherán have blockaded themselves in the pueblo (town). In so doing, they have closed the highway leading into and out of Cherán. Their closure forces long-haul truckers to go the long way round from Guadalajara to Uruapán.  The sad reality is that it is no longer safe to travel on the Meseta.

For more information about the struggle in Cherán.