Photos and thoughts from the 2012 Chiripa buying trip to Mexico.
Continued from the last post. . .
We eventually regrouped, gulped down some liquid yogurt for lunch, used the baño, and hailed a cab on the street. We told the cab driver we wanted to go to the village of Capula, a center of indigenous ceramic craft. The driver whistled, scrunched up his face and calculated: “Pues, es muy lejos...” (translation: “it’s very far” -- i.e., “it’s going to cost you a bundle”). We agreed on an estimated fare, jumped into the cab and headed out. On the way we passed miles of stone fences, laboriously constructed over the centuries – each stone lifted and set by strong brown hands. The fences looked like they had always been there.
In Capula, after bumping down many wrong streets and asking many puzzled bystanders, we finally rediscovered the home of the Juan Rosas family (whom we had not seen for 2 years). Their son Juan (“Chino”), a brilliant ceramic painter who has won national awards, opened the door. Chino recognized us immediately and sent word to his father, who was in the market. Juan ran the entire distance, and leaned against a wall to catch his breath before he could speak to us. His wife Lourdes joined us later: “Qué Milagro!” (“What a Miracle”) she said. “We have been thinking about you, and wondering why you hadn’t been back. But now here you are!” Her beautiful smile spread from ear to ear.
We bought some fine ceramics from the Juan Rosas family, while others gathered around to watch. The family will pack and deliver the ceramics to a stone carver in another village. The stone carver (with whom we had already placed an order), will carry the stone and ceramic pieces to Guadalajara in a pickup truck (we hope they get there). In Guadalajara, crafts from our many other Mexican stops will be consolidated in similar fashion for export to Chiripa. The daisy chain process takes months.
In Capula, we also bought some delicate ceramic Catrinas from other sellers. These had to be wound in toilet paper and bubble wrap, carefully placed in a box, and carried with us to Patzcuaro. It was getting late in the afternoon, and the taxi driver was getting nervous. Finally, we were ready.
On the way back to Patzcuaro, we stopped to see the stone carver and tell him about the ceramics shipment that would be coming his way. He was eating a light meal with friends, at a makeshift outdoor table under a shade tree. At sunset, the taxi driver finally dropped us at our hotel and we give him a handsome tip (“Muy bién,” he beamed).
Continued from the last post. . .
We eventually regrouped, gulped down some liquid yogurt for lunch, used the baño, and hailed a cab on the street. We told the cab driver we wanted to go to the village of Capula, a center of indigenous ceramic craft. The driver whistled, scrunched up his face and calculated: “Pues, es muy lejos...” (translation: “it’s very far” -- i.e., “it’s going to cost you a bundle”). We agreed on an estimated fare, jumped into the cab and headed out. On the way we passed miles of stone fences, laboriously constructed over the centuries – each stone lifted and set by strong brown hands. The fences looked like they had always been there.
In Capula, after bumping down many wrong streets and asking many puzzled bystanders, we finally rediscovered the home of the Juan Rosas family (whom we had not seen for 2 years). Their son Juan (“Chino”), a brilliant ceramic painter who has won national awards, opened the door. Chino recognized us immediately and sent word to his father, who was in the market. Juan ran the entire distance, and leaned against a wall to catch his breath before he could speak to us. His wife Lourdes joined us later: “Qué Milagro!” (“What a Miracle”) she said. “We have been thinking about you, and wondering why you hadn’t been back. But now here you are!” Her beautiful smile spread from ear to ear.
Lourdes with her three sons:
Brian (Koby), Juan Jr (Chino) and Misael (translator and accountant)
Brian (Koby), Juan Jr (Chino) and Misael (translator and accountant)
We bought some fine ceramics from the Juan Rosas family, while others gathered around to watch. The family will pack and deliver the ceramics to a stone carver in another village. The stone carver (with whom we had already placed an order), will carry the stone and ceramic pieces to Guadalajara in a pickup truck (we hope they get there). In Guadalajara, crafts from our many other Mexican stops will be consolidated in similar fashion for export to Chiripa. The daisy chain process takes months.
In Capula, we also bought some delicate ceramic Catrinas from other sellers. These had to be wound in toilet paper and bubble wrap, carefully placed in a box, and carried with us to Patzcuaro. It was getting late in the afternoon, and the taxi driver was getting nervous. Finally, we were ready.
The stone carvings in Tzintzuntzan seem to grow up from the ground.
On the way back to Patzcuaro, we stopped to see the stone carver and tell him about the ceramics shipment that would be coming his way. He was eating a light meal with friends, at a makeshift outdoor table under a shade tree. At sunset, the taxi driver finally dropped us at our hotel and we give him a handsome tip (“Muy bién,” he beamed).
We left the box of delicate Catrinas in our room and used the baño. After a long and hard day’s work, we decided that we deserved supper and a beer (“merecemos una cerveza”) at Lupita (photo of patio seating on the left), a new favorite restaurant up near the Basilica. But first, we had to visit the artisans selling woven linens and milagro hearts.... -JKM
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