VIEW IN QUEZALTEPEC
We had thought ourselves unfortunate at Ixcuintepec and Coatlan; the worst lay before us. We found San Miguel deserted. Our three mozos who had been paid, and ordered to go simply to that village, and there to leave our things, had left before we arrived. The man who had come with us, we had dismissed before we realized conditions. The coffee had been gathered for the season; the chief man of the place was in the mountains; there was no town government; neither prayers, threats, nor bribes produced food for ourselves and our horses; two or three men around the place would not be hired as mozos. We finally were forced to leave our busts, plaster, photographic outfit and plates on a bench under an open shed, and go on alone to Santiago Guevea. It was a bitter disappointment, because our previous experience at San Miguel had been so pleasant and interesting.
When we left Coatlan that morning, it had been through clouds and drizzling rain. When we passed through San Miguel, conditions were but little better. From there, we went through a gorge road, everywhere passing little plantations of coffee, bananas, and tobacco. Finally, we began our last mountain or forest climb. The wind with the rain became colder and more penetrating. At the summit, we found a typical norther raging, and at points our animals and ourselves were almost blown from the crest. In good weather the road is long, but through this it was dreadful. Few towns compare in beauty of location, and appearance from a distance, with Santiago Guevea. It was nearly five when we drew up in front of the crowded town-house. It will be remembered that this town is Zapotec, Coatlan being the last Mixe town. The school-teacher interested himself in our welfare, securing for us a real sleeping-room with cots, putting our horses into the corridor of the schoolhouse, and arranging for our meals. Chocolate and bread were at once furnished, and at eight o'clock a good supper was sent to our room. In the plaza outside, the wind was blowing a hurricane and the cold cut like a knife; but the house in which we slept was tight and warm. In the morning, we found the wild weather still continuing. It had been out of the question to send mozos to San Miguel the night before, and it seemed wicked to start them out in such a storm of wind, fog, rain and cold. Still, our time was precious, and we ordered men sent to the place where our stuff had been left, to fetch it; meanwhile, we decided to wait until they should appear. Our animals had had nothing to eat the previous day, except a little corn we had brought with us from Coatlan. We therefore ordered zacate brought for them. The night before, I had inquired regarding the acquaintances we had made at San Miguel in our previous trip. I learned that the man had died less than a month before, but that the widow, the four boys and the little girl, having finished their work at the coffee finca at San Miguel, were in town. Accordingly we called at the house. The woman immediately recognized me, and asked after Don Ernesto. The boys were sleeping, bedded on piles of coffee, but were routed from their slumber to greet us. At first, none of them remembered me, but the little girl did, and soon Castolo also. Their house was comfortable, and piles of corn, coffee, and bananas were stacked up in the place. They invited us to stop with them, but we were already well housed by the authorities. As we left, the woman went to the corner, and, from a pile of similar objects, took two things neatly wrapped in corn-husks. On opening them, we found that they were eggs, which are frequently wrapped in this way for storage, in all the indian towns. Although we had ordered food for the horses, at seven o'clock it had not appeared. We called at the town-house several times, but still no zacate. Our dinner came, and the afternoon passed, but still no fodder for the horses was produced, and the poor animals had eaten nothing, practically, for two whole days, although subjected to hard work and the pelting storm. We anxiously watched for the coming of the mozos with our equipment. The storm, though still raging, was abating, and we could see well down the road. When, at half past three in the afternoon, there was no sign of either men or fodder, we called the town authorities to account. We told them that we would wait no longer in a town where our animals could only starve; that they must forward our boxes, plaster and busts promptly to Tehauntepec; that we should hold them responsible for loss or delay, and that all should be delivered at the office of the jefe. Paying no attention to their entreaties that we should wait a little longer for the fodder, which they promised, as they had so many times before, would come soon, we saddled our animals, and at 4:20 left the town. Just as we started, little Castolo appeared with two bunches of zacate sent by his mother, as a present to Don Federico.
Certainly, there must be a new and better road from Guevea to Santa Maria than the one we traversed in our other journey, and which again, following from memory, we used. It was a fearful trail, neglected and ruined, over slippery rock and rough, sharp-splintered stone. Still we pressed on rapidly, making even better time than we had been assured at the town that we might expect to make. Never were we more happy than in reaching Santa Maria, lovely in the moonlight, with its great church, fine municipal-house, cocoa-nut trees and thatched huts. Here was no sign either of the norther or the rain. The next day's journey was over the hot dusty road with glimpses now and then of the distant Pacific and Tlacotopec for destination. The following morning we pressed on toward Tehuantepec, through the dust and heat, reaching the city at noonday. To our great surprise, we found the mozos, with the plaster, the busts, and the boxes of plates, waiting for us since four o'clock in the morning.
CHAPTER XIII
ABOUT TEHUANTEPEC
(1899)
Since our former visit to Tehuantepec, that hot and dusty city had suffered terrible misfortune. Through a period of several months it was subject to frequent shocks of earthquakes; for a time these were of daily occurrence, and on one occasion there were seventeen in a single day. The town still showed the destruction produced by these earthquake shocks, although for some months past there had been none. Houses, stores, churches, all presented great cracks and bare spots from which plaster had fallen. Many of the people had left the city permanently; those who remained were completely discouraged and unwilling to spend trouble and money in the repair of their houses. Tehuantepec is, of course, a city of considerable size; situated on a railroad, it has lost its importance since that thoroughfare was constructed. It was, formerly, the natural point through which all the produce of the surrounding country passed; the railroad has given similar opportunity to other places, to the loss of Tehuantepec. Between earthquakes, the damage resulting from the railroad, and the location of the military forces at Juchitan, not far distant, the town is declining. It is still, however, the cabecera, and the jefe is a man of some force and vigor. Shortly after our arrival, I visited his office, delivered the governor's letter, and stated our purpose in visiting his city. He seemed interested, and at once stated that there would be no difficulty in carrying out my plans; that I would find plenty of women for measurement in Tehuantepec itself; that the 100 men had better be secured at San Blas, which, although independent in government, adjoins Tehuantepec. I suggested that it would be well to measure the women in the court-yard of his palace; he, however, replied, "By no means; it will be much better to go directly to the market, where the women are gathered in great numbers; a regidor will accompany you to arrange the matter with your subjects."