Mexico Culture: ex-Convento Churubusco - Part I Daily Life

As a child growing up in Palo Alto, California, I was intrigued by the string of Franciscan Missions established by Father Junipero Serra—a day's walk apart on El Camino Real (the ‘King’s Highway’). The simplicity of California Spanish Mission architecture—red-tile roofs, white adobe walls—piqued my budding cultural curiosity: How was life lived by the Franciscans and Indians who made their homes within mission walls?

So I was keen when Reed suggested a visit to nearby ex-Convento de Churubusco. The convent (monastery) was founded in 1524 by Franciscan Friars, a mere three years after destruction of the capital of the Aztec Empire,Tenochtitlán, by Cortés, his army and indigenous allies. In response to Cortés’s explicit request for monastic orders to evangelize the indigenous peoples, the Spanish king initially sent twelve Franciscans.

On Cortés’s orders, Spanish soldiers destroyed the Aztec temple on this site honoring the Aztec's primary god, Huitzilopochtli ("Southern Hummingbird"). Using indigenous labor, the Friars subsequently oversaw construction of this convent church—reusing stones from the ancient temple. In many instances, colonial churches were constructed using the foundations of destroyed temples. It is said that the name Churubusco derives from Spanish mispronuncation of the town's original name, Huitzilopochco.

The difference between eighteenth century California Mission style and the sixteenth century Spanish Baroque style found at the ex-Convento (monastery) Churubusco is stunning. From Wikipedia, I learned that the Franciscan missionaries in California lacked both the skilled craftsmen and the building materials available to their brethren in Mexico. Elsewhere, I've commented on the quality of the craftsmanship in the Mesoamerican cultures.

The grounds are much larger than any that have survived of the California Missions. The ex-Convento grounds enclose five, perhaps six, acres. Here’s the link to a Google Map of the site: Arial view.

Visible on Google Map are five points of interest:

1. Templo de San Diego (Convent Church) is labeled; its deep red roof in the form of a cross, stands out;

2. The Convent’s four walls mark its boundaries:

• West Wall (Left side): Church entrance is through a doorway into an atrium (forecourt); 
• Southwest Corner (Lower left): External walls enclose two sides of a large patio with formal walkways and a fountain in the center; 
• Southeast Corner (Lower right): External walls enclose two sides of the patio de servicios (kitchen garden), in the tree-filled corner; 
• East Wall (Right side): The wall passes a long, blue-grey roofed building, possibly a classroom wing; this Northeast Corner was once a huerta (orchard) of fruit trees; look for the corner beyond the smaller, square building; 
• North Wall (Upper): The wall runs beside several structures, we guess may be school buildings. 

3. Note: The south wall of the church is a shared wall with the Convent—organized around three inner patios.

4. Note: The long, one-story wing between the formal patio in the Southwest (lower left) Corner); parallel to the wing, a long stone walkway from the South Wall connects to the main Convent building (North).

Travelers and pilgrims seeking food and shelter gained access to the Convent grounds through an impressive, wooden gate cut into the South Wall. Today’s visitors—including us!—enter through the same ancient wooden gate.

In front of us stretches the long stone walkway shown below, lined with neatly trimmed boxwood hedges!

Travelers and pilgrims seeking food and lodging in the Convent walked this stone walkway from the front gate to the Convent building itself.

Just inside the gate, visitors glancing to their left viewed this formal patio beckoning from beyond the cool, dark arches.

Just inside the entrance, this area probably served as a reception and waiting area. 

 At the Convent end of the long, one-story building separating the stone walkway from the formal patio, we come upon this second hallway entrance to the formal patio.

 This passageway is a classic example of Spanish colonial architecture. Transitions from enclosed, darkened spaces to those of openness and light are architectural metaphors for birth and salvation.

Accepting the invitation, we enter the formal patio garden dominated at its center by this graceful fountain.

Traditional Spanish Colonial fountain

The fountain's design roots extend back to the Moorish gardens of Spain. Islamic Moors brought the paridaida ("paradise", or walled garden, dating back as early as 4,000 B.C.) from Persia to Spain. In Spanish, pared means wall. Muslims later took these same garden traditions east to India. The Taj Mahal is the notable example.


Returning to the stone walkway, an open doorway beckons us to enter to the Patio de Servicio ('service garden' or kitchen garden).

Vegetables to feed the friars and their visitors, and herbs to treat the sick were grown in the Patio de Servicios. 

The blue decorative tile around the doorway is called azulejo (blue tile). Azulejo is used in important places in the Convent. Although azul means 'blue' in Spanish, it is an Arabic word; technically, it is a loanword—a word taken from one language and incorporated into a second language.

Linguists estimate that about 8% of words in the Spanish dictionary—the total of loanwords and roots— have Arab sources. After Latin, Arabic has exerted the greatest lexical influence on the Spanish language.

Patio de servicio or kitchen garden

Exit from patio de servicio

Like visitors of old, this tranquil patio captures our attention as we enter the Convent building.

Classic Spanish Colonial Patio

Alabaster Fountain 

The painted arches, a style we have not seen elsewhere in Mexico, are striking. Reed is reminded of photos of a mosque in Spain.

Here it is:  Mezquita Mosque in Córdoba, Spain
(Photo Courtesy of Wikipedia)

As we walk the Convent's hallways and rooms, we become increasingly aware of Moorish influence on Spanish colonial architecture. We remind ourselves that the Moors conquered Spain in 711 A.D. and were not driven out until 1492. Less than thirty years later, in 1521, Spain conquered Mexico. A mere three years after the destruction of Tenochtitlán, the Spanish constructed this Convent (1524).

Leaving the ground floor, we climb steep, stone stairs—no railings! Our reward is this balcony view of the fountain below:

The shape of the fountain, whose design goes back to Persian times, represents the world, oriented to the four cardinal directions.

A similar, four-pointed Moorish fountain in the Garden of the Sultana, Generalife ("Architect's Garden"), Granada, Spain (Photo Courtesy of Wikipedia)

Balcony view: Geometric arches create tranquility

Reed and I walk slowly through the Convent's corridors and rooms, absorbing their energy. A series of photographs follows—with minimum text. My intent is to let the pictures convey a sense of lives lived within the confines of these walls.

Second floor hallway; the walls and floors tilt as much as they appear to do in the photo

Friars glimpsed the formal patio garden through this second-floor window

Rich example of azulejo graces this half-flight staircase  

Sculpture of Franciscan Friar 

Window in stairwell; again, the contrast of enclosed darkness pierced by Heaven's Light

This graceful cupola lights an interior stairwell

Detail from the same stairwell; the complex simplicity of the graphic design is eye-catching

We left the Convent the way we had entered, down the long, stone passageway and out through the massive wooden gate. Then we made our way around the corner to the entrance to the church.

Gated entrance to the Atrio (front court) of Templo de San Diego

This dome, with its blue, white and yellow tiles, is in mudéjar (Moorish) style; it covers a small, outdoor baptismal font in the Atrium of the church.   

My thoughts return to my girlhood question, How might life have been lived by those residing within these walls? Comparisons to the California Missions are difficult, if not impossible: the mild, coastal climate meant a life of relative ease for California's mostly sedentary indigenous peoples; in any event, it did not give rise to anything comparable to Mesoamerican culture.

In stark contrast, Mexico's distinctive geography produced one of the great civilizations of human history. Cortés's explicit intent was the destruction of all forms of this civilization's culture—buildings, art, writings. It is in this context that the Convento de Churubusco was built. The early years of the Spanish occupation were characterized by intense activity as Cortés expanded territory under his control, awarded land to his soldiers and oversaw construction of Mexico City on the very site of Montezuma's capital, Tenochtitlán.

The question naturally arises:  With all he had to do, why did Cortés decide to establish a Convent at this location?  The following map shows the answer.

Huitzilopochco (orange-tinted shapes, southwest) and Tenochtitlán,
Aztec capital situated on a large island (red-tinted shapes, north), in middle of Lake Texcoco,
are linked by a causeway (straight line) built by the Aztecs to provide land access to their island capital.   

Huitzilopochco's strategic value is now apparent. Its siting on the southern causeway gave the ancient town control of southern access to the Aztec capital. By constructing the Convento de Churubusco, Cortés assured this essential control.

The military necessity is in stark contrast to the tranquility of the Convent's architecture and gardens. We have to believe that many of the Convent's early visitors were Spanish soldiers. Over time, of course, their visitors would also have included Spanish soldier-landowners and their families. The tension between tranquility and violence is a theme that re-emerges throughout Mexican history up to and including the present day.

In the next post, I'll explore the military history of the Convento de Churubusco. To our great surprise, this history involves Mexico's neighbor to the north, the United States.

Stay tuned for Part II—coming soon!