Peeking into Tzintzuntzan

From the log kept by JM on the August 2010 Chiripa buying trip to Mexico.

August 24, 2010. In Tzintzuntzan (Michoacan, Mexico) there is a handcraft market that offers a mountain of goods, including ceramics, straw baskets, cornhusk flowers, wood carvings and much more. You can see local people binging their wares for sale. 

Patient sellers often pass hours or days between sales, so Chiripa is glad to bring them needed business. The recent wet weather, with its occasional heavy deluges, has made life even ore difficult for open-air market vendors.

Behind the market is a centuries-old church and an old walled park with ancient olive trees. We cross the park, and pass through a doorway in the far wall near the church. Just down the street, and around the corner, we knock on the door of Ofelia Gamez, who is well known for the hand-painted lead-free ceramics she makes in her home. 

We interrupt Ofelia's work long enough to pick out some nice pieces for Chiripa. Ofelia's son, Manuel Morales, who also has a workshop in Tzintzuntzan, has gained an international reputation for his elegant ceramics. This sample is currently at Chiripa.

Old and Eccentric

From the log JM kept on the August 2010 Chiripa buying trip to Mexico.

August 19, 2010.  The old Hotel de los Escudos, in the center of Pazcuaro, is not what you would call luxurious. But it is clean and economical ($29 a night at this time of year). It is also interesting, in an eccentric and centuries-old sort of way. The desk staff remembers us, and it has a handy location right on the serene Plaza de Vasco Quiroga. It has big pine pillars and beams, and limestone steps indented and worn smooth by centuries of foot traffic. There is no security to speak of, but it feels comfortable and safe. So it suits us, and we keep coming back. 

Morning light hits Los Escudos on a prior trip. 

Note: the zocalo has not been rebuilt.

This time we stayed in the hotel “annex,” which has a lobby with a stuffed deer and a picture of the plaza covered with snow on July 16, 1996. Our interior room was almost too quiet, except for the rooftop bells that reminded us of the time every 15 minutes. In the corner of the room was a round brick fireplace that might be as old as the hotel. Patzcuaro nights can get cold, and firewood is provided. The blackened brick in the fire chamber suggested that the fireplace has seen plenty of use, but we paused when we saw that the brick on the outside of the fireplace was also blackened.

The ceiling, resting on heavy pine beams, towered 20 feet above us. The bathroom looked like a quaint little 10-ft. tall house within the 20-ft. tall room. It had brick and stucco walls, a pine door, and pine-encased semi-transparent windows that could swing open. Like many hotel bathrooms in Mexico, it was raised 8 inches above the bedroom floor. In the middle of the night, you must remember to step up on your way in (and down on your way out) or you will come to a bad end.

Once you have negotiated the step and entered the little house-bathroom, you must close the creaky pine door. The door does not shut unless you pull hard, and then it slams (waking your spouse). It is pitch black inside, so you try to find the light switch. The light shines through the window into your spouse’s (now open) eyes. If you are male, you raise the toilet seat, but it does not stay up by itself. You improvise by addressing the toilet from the side, and holding the seat up with your knee. If you are lucky, you finish the operation before the seat slips from your knee and slams down with a loud slap.

When you finish in the bathroom, you turn out the light, force open the creaky door with your shoulder, remember to step down, and grope your way back to bed. You misjudge a bit, and curse when you slam into the bed with your shin. You eventually get back to sleep, but your spouse will be awake for several hours….    

"Going green" in the interior lobby at Los Escudos.