The writer had visited friends in Uruápan, a city whose lower elevation puts it at the edge of the Tierra Caliente (hot lands, more tropical vegetation) of Michoacán. Nothing would do, of course, but for me to translate it, which I did several months ago. Disgracefully, I've somehow misplaced the link to the original Spanish. Here it is, with apologies to the original writer, and with the hope that I can make amends with the photographs.
"I went to Uruápan, and returned uruapanizado'd. How beautiful is this place amidst wonderful gardens, the vast garden that is Michoacán!
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| Cove Opposite the Community of Zirahuén, about a 20-minute ride by motor launch. Photo: Internet |
"I knew that Uruapanenses, like all Michoacanos, are not downcast by either bad governments or bad men. They struggle and work every day to make their city and their state a place where people can live and work in peace.
"Since childhood I have heard of the beauties of Michoacán. In the choir of Zaragoza, we sang the beautiful song that encourages birds to abandon their flight:
- "If you are going to paradise, stop—you are flying over it right now."
- Then later, referring to the lands of Michoacán: "Yes, you have what you hoped for." Wow!
"I saw Lake Zirahuén's calm waters...maintained by its inhabitants and neighbors.
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| Lake Zirahuén Photo: Reed |
"I brought home wonders coming from the hands of its artisans.
"I enjoyed your culinary triumphs: ah, those uchepos [small tamales made with baby corn] are the flavor of 'glory', and those delicacies of the Casa de Blanca, where the rich cuisine of Michoacán rests among the beauty of landscape and tradition!
"I went to the enchanted place where the Cupatítzio River begins—to see the water emerge from the ground is like watching the birth of God.
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| Water emerges from underground springs all along the trail that winds alongside the Cupatitzio River. |
"I heard the legend of the Devil's Knee*, and I heard the singing of a mournful pirecua**, Purhépecha song.
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| The Cupatitzio River makes its way among the rocks, down a narrow arroyo. Photo: Reed |
"Furthermore, by happy chance I found a bookstore—I do not seek books; they find me—appropriately, it is named Paradise, and there I found very good books for just a few pesos. Again I say, paradise. That's Uruápan...and that's Michoacán.
"Thank you, my cordial, most kind friends from Canacintra: Alfonso, Diana and Luis, Mario and Isabella, for this gift of life that your invitation gave to me and for your kind attentions, as I've already said. I hope with my soul—and also with my body—to return to Uruápan. Meanwhile, I'm already uruapanizado'd... ."Still Curious?
The thank-you letter brought back many delightful memories and associations, among them the Legend of the Devil's Knee, of which there are innumerable versions! Here's one that appealed to me: its simplicity inviting translation.
"Hundreds of years ago, Uruápan felt the happy life provided by the fertility of its soil. The Cupatitizo River murmured its eternal song in the shade of the trees that were beginning to feel the first fruits. The virgin lands were covered with a blanket of greenery dotted with flowers and huts built at the impulse of the first signs that Christianity was spreading among the people. The smoke rising from their homes into the sky mysteriously veiled the dense vegetation of the immense forest.
"According to the legend, the day came when the Cupatitzio stopped murmuring as before, leaving the riverbed dry and drying out the stream's crystal waves. Without water or dew, the green fields abandoned their green for the sad yellow of dry leaves, and the trees in the orchards twisted their branches, dropping their fruit without color and without nectar, as tears of overwhelming despair. All was anguish, all grief, all prayers and tears.
"In the darkness of his cell, Fray Juan de San Miguel pondered the magnitude of the misfortune, knelt with his knees on the ground and directed his eyes to the sky in a supreme prayer of anguish. At one point, inspired by a divine ray that penetrated the church, he rang the church bells and made his voice call to the Purhépecha people. When they arrived and hurried to the Friar, they saw on his illuminated face the glimmer of heavenly hope.
"Soon after, the elders led a solemn procession of the image of the Virgin, surrounded by her court of honor. The solemn procession arrived at the source of the river, sad and dry as the eye without light. Fray Juan prayed for a few moments, then taking a little holy water, sprinkled it over the scorched rocks of the empty bed.
"Legend has it that the ground shook with a horrible tremor. An immense cry was heard that echoed over long distances and from the abyss emerged the figure of Satan who, upon meeting the Virgin replete with flowers and covered with aromatic incense, fell back frightened, crashing into a rock, which still has the hole left in it by his knee—the knee of the prince of darkness.
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| The first waterfall of the Cupatitzio River, cascading into a deep, clear pool, before beginning its journey down the arroyo. (Photo: Reed Brundage) |
"Waters flowed again. The fields again turned green, the fruit ripened and joy was reborn. Since then, the Cupatitizio has never stopped murmuring its eternal song in the shade of dense coffee plantations, while in the branches the wind heralds the eternal symphony of nature."Here's yet another version of the legend (in Spanish) accompanied by truly gorgeous photos of this enchanting spot. By the way, trout grown locally in farms are served at the restaurant at the top of the falls. Not to be missed!
**Pirekua [pronounced Peer-EH-coo-a] are traditional Purhépecha songs. Here's my translation of an unusually insightful description:
"A traditional song of the Purhépecha communities of the state of Michoacán, pirekua is performed by both men and women. The pirekua tradition draws on multiple cultural sources, including African, European and indigenous, which have combined to give rise to a wide diversity of styles. Regional variations have also been observed in thirty of today’s 165 Purhépecha communities. As a general rule, the pirekua has a slow rhythm, but the form also includes instrumental forms using other rhythms.
"The pirekua can be sung as a solo, duet or trio; it can also be accompanied by a chorus, string orchestras, or groups of string and wind instruments. Singers and interpreters of pirekua, called piréiechas, are known for their creativity and their interpretations of the ancient songs. The song texts are heavily symbolic and embrace a wide range of themes from historic events to religion, but they also touch not only on themes of love and courtship, but on social and political ideas as well.
"The pirekua is an effective means of dialogue between families and the Purhépecha communities; in fact, it contributes to establishing and strengthening ties between families and the communities. By performing the songs in order to express feelings and communicate important events to the Purhépecha communities, the pirériechas fulfill a function of social mediation [like Europe's medieval troubadours].
"The pirekua is an oral tradition transmitted from generation to generation. Pirekua, however, is more than just a cultural expression maintained today; it is also a distinctive sign of identity and a medium of communication for more than 100,000 Purhépecha peoples."
UTube video: La pirekua, La Canta Tradicional de los P'urhépecha. The narration is in Spanish, but the message of the pirekua songs is perfectly clear; to top it all off, the scenes of Michoacán and Zirahuén are incredibly beautiful.
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