February, 2013. We are travelling in the highlands of Michoacán, in south-central Mexico, looking for fine artisan crafts for Chiripa.
Pátzcuaro, in Michoacán, is one of our favorite places in Mexico. Part of its charm is the nearby lake that has nourished people and other wild things for many centuries. The island of Janitzio thrusts upward from the center of the lake, like a Mexican version of Mont St. Michelle. In the evening, the distant lights from the island seem beautiful and mysterious. At such moments, the island seems like a place of legend that is beyond our earthly reach.
Lake Patzcuaro, from the Island
In our many visits to the lakeside town of Pátzcuaro, we had never before visited the mysterious island – partly, I suppose, because we were afraid of being disillusioned. But on this beautiful Sunday afternoon, we decided that the time had come to penetrate the mystery. So we took a taxi to the lakeshore embarcadero from which tour boats embark, bought round-trip tickets at the ticket booth, and climbed on to one of many long wooden boats docked along the shore.
We were not alone. It turns out that on Sunday afternoons the island is visited by hundreds, if not thousands, of Mexican tourists (we saw few, if any, fellow gringos). On this afternoon, the atmosphere was fun and festive in an unpretentious working class way. Musicians carrying well-worn instruments climbed aboard with us and, in hopes of collecting a few pesos from fellow passengers, began wailing old-time Mexican tunes – at once jolly, romantic, mournful and fatalistic.
Music and a Festive Atmosphere Onboard
The excitement mounted as we cast loose from the dock, and edged out into the water choked with floating plants. “Now THIS is living!” one of us smiled. Soon we pushed through the floating greenery and out into the muddy, shallow lake, which produces delicate whitefish as well as tiny fingerlings like smelt (you can order the tiny fish, crispy-fried or with green tomatillo sauce, in local restaurants). Along the shore, we could see the ruins of ancient Tarascan towns that had thrived centuries before any Europeans arrived in this place.
The Island of Janitzio
As we moved out across the lake, we gained a better view of the island and the huge statue that rises from its summit. The statue is of José María Morelos, a Catholic priest who became a leader of the Mexican War of Independence against Spain (Morelos was executed by Spanish authorities in 1815). Morelos is a much-loved figure in Mexico, and justifiably so. But, from an artistic perspective, the statue (begun in 1933) is a bit harder to love. It is a rather cold, inhuman monolith – looking somewhat like a graceless Statue of Liberty with a clenched fist, or an odd combination of Lenin and militant Buddha. But it certainly dominates the landscape.
Statue of Morelos
As we drew closer to the island, we caught sight of fishermen paddling colorful fishing boats and wielding the traditional butterfly nets that have been used here throughout the ages. Today, however, the fishermen seemed to be fishing mainly for tourist pesos. They surrounded the incoming tourist boats like a sort of naval escort. And after a brief fishing “performance,” they pulled alongside the tour boats with hats outstretched.
Fishing with Butterfly Nets
Passengers cheered and waived as tour boats passed each other in their race toward the island. At last we docked at our destination, and stepped ashore. Tourists are the life-blood of this isolated place, and it shows. A steep cobblestone walk leads from the boat dock to the summit of the island, where the huge statue is perched. There is little to do but take the pilgrimage to the top.
Fish Fry
Along the way, pilgrims pass dozens of little restaurants, snack stalls, and shops hawking humble souvenirs. There are crispy fried fish, blue corn tortillas frying on comals, and stews bubbling expectantly in pots. There are no global brands here – no Starbucks to be seen -- just hundreds of small local operators trying to fish a few pesos from the stream of sweating, puffing tourists.
Blue Corn Tortillas Frying on the Comal
We hiked up to the base of the statue, but decided not to make the final climb to the upraised clenched fist. Instead, we looked out over the beautiful lake and watched the people enjoying their Sunday holiday. Then, like all the other tourists, we headed back down. As we approached the tourist dock, we saw little fish drying in the sun atop overturned fishing boats. We also passed the garbage scow that is used to collect the island’s garbage and ferry it to the mainland. A well-fed rat nosed around nearby.
Fish Drying in the Sun
On the trip back, the passengers on our tour boat were more subdued. Their Sunday holiday was coming to an end, and tomorrow they would have to return to their jobs in Mexico City or Morelia. Children clutched their toy fishnets and leaned against their mothers. The warm sun was getting lower in the sky as we left the embarcadero and hailed a taxi to take us back to our hotel.
For us, at that moment, the fabulous Island of Janitzio had temporarily lost its mystery. But if ever we are lucky enough to return to Pátzcuaro, we will again look across the lake as the sun falls behind the mountains. And, in that twilight moment, we will again see the island and the great statue rising in all their distant glory – surrounded by mysterious lights twinkling in the blue darkness. - JM
