Guatemala Part 1: Dark past, brighter future

Sawdust painting at Hotel Barceló in Guatemala City. These long, multi-paneled paintings called alfombras (rugs) are of exquisite design and color. They are an ancient part of Guatemala's Catholic traditions. Sawdust alfombras line the parade routes for religious processions at Santa Semana (Easter Week) and other occasions. Although they are beautifully intricate and take many hours of create, they are temporary works of art made of painted sawdust and flower petals.

Carole and I visited Guatemala for 10 days during March 2011.  But, you say, isn't this blog about Mexico? True enough. However, we have always viewed Mexico as a base of operations and a springboard to more far-flung adventures. In future, we may visit Costa Rica, Panama, Peru, Ecuador, even Chile, while continuing our adventures in Mexico itself. 

Guatemala borders 4 other Latin American countries and has coasts on both the Atlantic and Pacific. With an area only about the size of Tennessee, and a population of only 14.36 million, Guatemala is not large. However, in many ways it is the center of Central America. In the Classic Era of pre-hispanic times, the center of the Maya world was in Tikal in the jungles of Guatemala's northern Peten region (near Flores in the map above). For most of the 20th Century, Guatemala was the center of the United Fruit Company's world-wide banana trade, and today Guatemalan coffee is considered among the best in the world. The US has viewed the country as so strategically important that it has intervened militarily--overtly or covertly-- at least three times in the 20th Century. These interventions led to some of the darkest and most brutal episodes since the Spanish conquest of Guatemala under the ferocious Pedro de Alvarado.

Skyline of Guatemala City from our balcony at Hotel Barceló. In many ways, Guatemala City is a modern city with gleaming office buildings, an efficient international airport, luxury hotels like the Barceló, and  parkways full of expensive, late-model cars. We spent only about 1.5 days in the city. It was not really what our adventure was about and, having lived in and around several big cities, Carole and I have had our fill. I almost didn't include Guatemala City in this post, but finally decided it would be an important place to start our story about the visit. Probably the most interesting part of our visit to the city was a stop at the Museum of Archaeology which will be included in Part 2 of this series. However, to appreciate the green and fragile shoots of democracy and economic development now emerging throughout the country, a look at Guatemala City is useful. To understand how important it is to encourage those fragile shoots, we must acknowledge what has gone before, as uncomfortable as that might at times be.

Our chariot for the adventure. Caravan Tours conducted our adventure, the same company that took us through the colonial cities and ancient archaeological sites of southern Mexico. With two of their tours under out belts now, Carole and I cannot say enough good things about this company. We chose to use them because we didn't want to attempt a completely new country on our own. For all Mexico's largely undeserved reputation for violence, Guatemala appears to have a considerably higher rate of random crime. The precautions that Tour Director Jorge Fuentes took, in conjunction with the Guatemalan Ministry of Tourism, ensured we had a trouble-free visit. The precautions also indicated to us that they viewed the problem as very real and worth guarding against. In the end, we had no crime problems whatsoever, not even a theft by a pickpocket among our 42-person tour group. Jorge, who also goes by "George" for those unfamiliar with Spanish names, was the ideal tour director. He was extremely efficient and conscientious without being overbearing. Friendly and cheerful to everyone, he was a fountain of information able to field the most obscure questions with aplomb. He met us at the airport when we arrived late in the evening and, at 5:00 AM on departure day, he was there to ensure we got on the right shuttle back to the airport. Note to Caravan: don't ever let this guy leave your employment! He is a jewel.

Palacio Nacional faces the Parque Central, or main plaza of Guatemala City. Due to volcanic eruptions and earthquakes, the capital of Guatemala was moved several times over the centuries before ending up at the current site of Guatemala City. In turn, there were several predecessors to the current Palacio. The previous one, built hastily in 1921 to help celebrate the Centennial of the nation, was derisively called the Palacio de Cartón (Carton Palace). After it burned down in 1925, various designs were floated for a replacement. The present building was constructed between 1939 and 1943.

Closeup view of the Palacio's front. The Palacio was constructed in the Neo-classical style popular for public buildings in the mid-20th Century. Its full name is Palacio National de la Cultura (National Palace of Culture) and it was the headquarters of the President of Guatemala for many years. Today the Palacio is a museum and is occasionally used for important government events. Interestingly, it is the origin of all roads in the Republic and located in it is a spot known as Kilometro Cero (Zero Kilometer). Ironically, the Guatemalan president who finally ordered the construction of this beautiful building was General Jorge Ubico, one of Guatemala's longest-lasting dictators.

The US Embassy squats fortress-like behind high fences and checkpoints.  Until Guatemala's 36-year Civil War ended in 1996, its people had never in their entire history known real democracy or freedom except for a brief "Ten Years of Spring." This period, from 1944-1954, was brutally ended by an invasion and military coup designed, organized, and financed by US Central Intelligence Agency. The CIA was so proud of its success that it ordered a special manual written as a guide for overthrowing  governments, whether democratically-elected or not. The manual later became public through information released by the US State Department. Associated with the manual was a list of Guatemalan politicians, union leaders, and community activists targeted by the CIA for assassination. The CIA later used the tactics of its Guatemala model in the abortive Bay of Pigs invasion against Cuba (1961), and in coups all over Latin America including the extremely bloody coup against Chile's popularly elected president Salvador Allende (1973). Although Cold War anti-communism was the ideological excuse used to justify the Guatemala invasion and coup (and the others as well), the real reason was the economic interests of the United Fruit Company, today known as Chiquita Brands International, famous for its Chiquita Banana ads. After the successful coup, the CIA sent experts to comb through Guatemala government records to find evidence that President Arbenz was pro-Soviet or unduly influenced by communists. Like the weapons of mass destruction used to justify a 21st Century US invasion, no evidence was ever found.

Now labeled as a "technical school" this grim-looking building was a fortress during the Civil War. For security reasons, Jorge did not want our tour group to get out of the bus during our drive around Guatemala City, except for our stop at the Archaeological Museum. This explains the limited number of pictures I took in the city.  Like this one, many of the photos are only partial shots that I snapped through our bus window. The United Fruit Company was a US business that got its start in 1899 and flourished in the early and mid-20th Century. It became so powerful in Guatemala that it virtually ran the country. The company owned huge amounts of arable land, much of which it allowed to lie fallow while millions of campesinos had no land at all. It controlled the telegraph, postal, and railroad systems. In order to discourage competition with its railroad, United Fruit discouraged new road building in Guatemala. It also dominated the external trade of the country through its control of Guatemala's main port. When Guatemalans overwhelmingly elected President Jacobo Arbenz Guzmán during the Ten Years of Spring, United Fruit became alarmed. Arbenz aimed to develop Guatemala in ways that would make it independent of United Fruit, and that would bring benefits to the millions of poor people of the country. One of the ways he proposed was to nationalize much of the fallow land and redistribute it to landless campesinos. In compensation, he offered to pay United Fruit the amount the company had claimed the land was worth in its tax declarations. Caught in its own tax dodge, United Fruit spluttered with outrage and turned to the US government for support.

Young soldiers we met on our visit to Tikal in northern Guatemala. While the army had a fearsome reputation before and during the Civil War, since the war it has been down-sized from 50,000 to about 20,000 now, and otherwise reformed. When we met these polite and friendly young men, they were assisting tourists by taking pictures with the tourists' cameras so people could be in their own photos. They were so nonchalant and easy-going that I had to encourage them to look fuerte (strong) for the picture. Things were different in the old days and United Fruit had a very long arm. In 1954, John Foster Dulles was Secretary of State under President Dwight Eisehower. His younger brother, Allen, was head of the CIA. The elder Dulles was also a partner in a law firm representing United Fruit, and Allen Dulles sat on the company's Board of Directors. Further, Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs John Moors Cabot had previously served as president of United Fruit. The company's principal lobbyist Ed Whitman was husband to President Eisenhower's personal secretary. Many later CIA-supported Latin American coups had similar economic underpinnings and similar conflicts of interest.

Grey fortress perches on a cliff top in the middle of Guatemala City. This fortress probably resounded with the tramp of 16th Century Spanish soldiers, as well as their late 20th Century counterparts. The 1954 coup was followed by decades government mismanagement and corruption, as coup followed coup and members of the military elite scrambled for the spoils. In 1960, a campesino revolt erupted that turned into a Civil War lasting until 1996. During this period United Fruit changed hands several times. Its reputation grew so bad, even in the United States, that the company found it wise to change its name. However, "Banana Republic" became the nickname for a small country dominated and exploited by multi-national corporations, a definite reference to the history of United Fruit Company and its successors. In the late 1970's the Civil War grew in intensity. The US Carter Administration made disapproving clucking noises but did little to rein in the excesses of its Guatemalan military clients. With the advent of the Reagan Administration, the repression grew exponentially. Reagan got around the US Congress' restrictions on military aid to Guatemala by arranging for Israel to be the supplier. The Guatemalan junta leaders were only too happy to see the arms spigot turned on full blast, and an end to those pesky clucking noises about daily atrocities.

The Guatemala City Catedral faces Parque Central. The Catedral Primada Metropolitana de Santiago houses the Archdiocese of Guatemala. Between 1782 and 1815, the main body of the church was constructed. The steeples were not completed until 1867. The massive baroque and classic-style structure has survived numerous earthquakes, although not without occasional damage. During the Civil War, the Catholic church in Guatemala protested the growing repression. In fact, many of its village priests were involved in the Liberation Theology Movement which spread across Latin America in the 1950s-60s. Liberation Theology attempted to return Christianity to its roots by organizing poor people for social justice and human rights and against oppression and poverty. For this the priests and their flocks were often targeted for assassinations and sometimes wholesale massacres. We did not alight to enter the Catedral, but the bus paused in front long enough for me to examine through the windows the curious writing on the pillars supporting the wrought iron fence you see above. 

Twelve multi-sided marble pillars stand in front of the Catedral, all covered with lists of names. The top panels on each side of each pillar list Guatemalan municipalities (counties) and towns where atrocities occurred during the Civil War. The one above highlights Municipalidad de Huehuetenango in Guatemala's western highlands, and lists the towns within the municipality subjected to massacres, including the chief town of Huehuetenango itself. Jorge, our Tour Director, pointed out an interesting tactic used by the Army. He was drafted at 18 and was the only non-Maya soldier in his Army unit. The Maya, who are the largest and poorest part of Guatemala's population, don't see themselves as a single ethnic group. Their attitude is much like the Sioux, Cherokee, Apache and other indigenous people in the United States who do not see themselves as "Indians." Another similarity to US indigenous people is that the different Maya groups have long-standing animosities between them, sometimes going back hundreds of years. The Spanish organized their Guatemala province along the lines of the 21 separate Maya ethnic/language groups that then existed, and this remains the pattern of political organization today. The Army recruited heavily among members of one of these groups, and used their long-standing animosity to make it easier to carry out atrocities on the others.

The Sanchez list. The panel above lists all the people with the surname Sanchez who were executed by security forces in one community. You will find the names of a number of women on the list who were probably also raped and tortured before their execution, a common practice according to security forces' records recently released. The US Army runs a long-established school to train Latin American military and security officers.  Once called the School of the Americas (SOA), it was renamed the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation (WHISC). The name change was caused by similar reasons to that of United Fruit Company's change of name. The SOA, as it is popularly known, trained the top leaders of virtually every Latin American coup (most recently Honduras in 2009) and the perpetrators of nearly every atrocity committed since the school was founded. Texts obtained from the school's curriculum contained detailed training on torture and assassination. The US Army hastily admitted they were genuine, but claimed they were not longer being used. However, there is no doubt their lessons were both well learned and widely used. In Guatemala, the SOA trained most of the officers of the three juntas that ruled at the height of the Civil War (1978-1986) when the atrocities were greatest. These included 4 of 8 officials of the junta under General Lucas Garcia, 6 of the 9 under General Rios Montt, and 5 of the 10 under Mejia Victores. The SOA doesn't just sponsor generals, but trains Latin Americans down to the junior officer level. When the Guatemalan Human Rights Commission and the United Nations Truth Commission investigated at the end of war, the names of SOA graduates appeared again and again as the actual perpetrators of assassinations, extrajudicial executions, torture, and rape, and "disappearances." Similar patterns are found throughout Latin America. By the end of Guatemala's Civil war, the list of dead had risen to 200,000. The equivalent loss in the US would be 4.2 million people. Overwhelmingly, these were civilian non-combatants. Also overwhelmingly, they were killed by military, police, and other security forces led by men trained and armed by the US.

Banco de Guatemala shows the new face of the nation. Artistically designed, the Banco de Guatemala symbolizes the new prosperity now emerging as the Civil War, which ended in 1996, fades into the background. While I was only in Guatemala a short time, I came away with the impression of a people anxious to move away from their terrible past and busy with the tasks of building democracy and becoming prosperous. Signs of First World investment are everywhere. Guatemala City has more McDonalds Restaurants than any city in Latin America. Signs and billboards for US and European businesses abound. Despite its high rate of random crime, Guatemala has only a relative handful of publicly-funded (and poorly paid) police. Heavily armed private security forces fill some of the void. According to Jorge, Israeli security businesses are particularly active. The public accountability of these private forces raises a serious question in my mind, along with another problem. What if your business or neighborhood is too poor to afford private security? Privatization seems to mean that those without, do without. The solution of the poor is sometimes vigilante justice, a dubious and dangerous alternative.

In 2006, Guatemala's Congress ratified the Central America Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA). This treaty eliminated most formal trade barriers between the signatories for services as well as goods. The practical effect has been mixed. US corporations have benefited through the ability to penetrate the Guatemala markets, while Guatemala companies have found they win few contracts in the US. In addition, the treaty restricts the ability of signatories like Guatemala to favor the development of local businesses and small farmers over multi-national corporations, or even to ensure that public services--such as security--are delivered by publicly accountable entities. The greatest beneficiaries seem to be US-based multi-national corporations seeking to "out-source" operations to Guatemala and other Central American signatories. They can shut down US plants, move the facilities to Guatemala, hire local workers at rock-bottom wages (with few enforceable labor protections) and avoid expensive environmental regulations. One could argue that Guatemalans do get the jobs, however low-paid. Unfortunately, experience has shown that multi-national corporations can just as easily shut down Guatemala factories and move to countries with even lower labor or environmental standards. Exactly that has happened with many of Mexico's "maquiladora" factories set up along the US border after the passage of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA). While diverse foreign investment is certainly preferable to United Fruit Company's monopoly, the jury is still out on Guatemala's future under CAFTA.

Tourism is a growing business in Guatemala. Above, the Hotel San Carlos was formerly a stately mansion built in a 19th Century French architectural style. Guatemalans at all levels, from owners of luxury hotels to street vendors, seem almost desperate for tourism to expand. While there, we felt treated like royalty. When our tour started, Jorge would announce on the bus that we were a certain number of minutes from arriving at our next restaurant or hotel, "and the staff is very excited that you are coming." At first we laughed, thinking he was joking with us. However, he was speaking the plain facts. Staff would often come out and greet us at the door, wreathed in smiles and extending warm greetings. The sudden arrival of 42 paying guests was a happy economic jolt. Everywhere we went our every need was treated with almost anxious solicitude. I felt a bit embarrassed at times to be the object of so much attention.

The other end of the scale. Our tour of Guatemala City included passing near large neighborhoods of the poor, built on the sides of the steep ravines that cut through the city. While we were treated like royalty, these people received somewhat less favorable treatment. If they are lucky, workers living in these neighborhoods may have a job at one of the outsourced factories recently departed from Ohio or North Carolina or elsewhere in the US. In addition, 50% of Guatemala's population engages in some form of agriculture, "often at subsistence level outside the monetized economy" according to the US State Department. The demobilization of large numbers of soldiers, as well as much smaller numbers of guerrillas, meant that the labor market at the time was flooded with young men looking for jobs. It is no wonder the crime rate rose, particularly since so many of these young men had become inured to violence.

Yet another side to the city. For all its problems and dark history, Guatemala is full of beauty, both natural and man made. Some of the avenues we traveled were lined with wonderful statues and monuments like this deer (elk?). The Maya have been great craftspeople and artists for thousands of years. There seems to be a growing appreciation of this among non-Maya Guatemalans, and indigenous culture is celebrated everywhere. In addition, there is a growing recognition of the tourist potential this creates, and Guatemala has been working to develop and improve great archaeological sites like Tikal and Quirigua, both of which we visited and will be shown in future segments of this series.

A pretty girl smiles as she make tortillas, Guatemala-style. She wears a beautifully embroidered huipil (blouse). The tortillas she is making on the griddle are smaller and thicker than the Mexican version to which we have become accustomed. Quite tasty, we thought.

A street vendor chats with private security guards. At first I thought there was some sort of problem, but it seems they were just young guys hanging out, chatting up a girl. Guatemala abounds with street vendors, and in tourist-oriented areas they can be quite aggressive. Jorge warned us that if we were not interested that we should not pretend any interest, even through politeness. Such interest is almost a guaranteed sale in the vendor's mind. I found that a polite but firm "no, gracias", repeated several times if necessary, would do the trick.

Sawdust portrait of a Maya woman draped in finely embroidered clothing. Back at the Hotel Barceló, I took a few more pictures of the sawdust alfombra in the lobby. This is an example of the appreciation Guatemalans are developing for their Maya heritage. The woman wears an embroidered huipil, and carries another embroidered garment over her arm. On her head is a folded cloth, sort of a serape, that doubles as a hat or a wrap if it gets cold.

The real thing. This woman could have stepped right out of the sawdust painting. We encountered her in front of the Palacio Nacional. Our bus halted for a stop light and suddenly there she was, trying to sell to us through our closed windows. If the energy and entrepreneurship of the Maya people could ever be harnessed to their own purposes and benefit and with proper financing, they would "eat the lunch" of a lot of more sophisticated First World people.

This completes Part 1 of my Guatemala series. I apologize for delving so deeply into dark matters, and high-level economic policy. I actually feel very positively about Guatemala, and the rest of this series will show a land of great beauty and cultural richness. However, to fully appreciate the rest of this series, I felt that an understanding of the current and historical context of Guatemala would be vital. I always welcome feedback and comments. If you would like to respond, please do so in the Comments section below, or email me directly.

If you want to leave a question in the Comments section, PLEASE leave your email address so that I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim 

Mazamitla Part 3: The Double-Waterfalls of Sierra del Tigre

Two huge waterfalls tumble vertically from a mountain plateau to a box canyon far below.  I  found these waterfalls with great difficulty, and it took four separate expeditions over the course of more than a year to reach the base of the box canyon. The photo above was taken from a narrow overlook at the end of a muddy trail from the top of the opposite side of the box canyon. My Canadian "snow-bird" friend Gerry Green originally told me about the falls a couple of years ago. Gerry was an avid dirt-biker until his wife finally persuaded him to give it up. He has explored many of the back country roads in these mountains and publishes a blog called "Barebones Adventure". Click here to see it. I was intrigued by his casual mention of some big falls back in the mountains. Then he produced a hand-drawn map showing a remote and twisting dirt road through the heart of the Sierra del Tigre with a little symbol indicating a waterfall marked beside a hairpin curve. I was hooked. The dirt road originates in the little town of Contla, which sits astride Mexico Highway 110, southwest of Mazamitla. For a Google map showing the location of Contla, click here.

A long narrow valley, studded with emerald-green sugar-cane fields twists through the Sierra del Tigre mountains. One of my fellow hikers took this photo near the hairpin turn on our 3rd attempt to reach the falls. You are looking back down the valley in the direction of Contla. The skies were heavily overcast during the 3rd expedition, and the drizzling rain made the trail from the overlook down to the base of the falls muddy and hazardous, one of the reasons we didn't attempt to go down that trip. The other reason? I was the only one in our large party who had actually made the hike down, and I was nursing a hell of a bad cold. I could probably lead people down, but I wasn't sure I could make it back up myself. From the photo above, you can see the rugged nature of the Sierra del Tigre, composed of range after range of steep, heavily wooded ridges. The farm road from Contla to the trailhead is only paved for a short distance, and crosses a rushing stream at several places. In the rainy season, deep puddles accumulate in low places that can stall a shallow-draft vehicle. When the weather is dry, even a high-draft, all-wheel drive vehicle can have a difficult time making it. This is not a route for the faint of heart, or those with ordinary street vehicles. Photo by Chuck Boyd

A few quick photos from the overlook, before we gave up on the 3rd expedition's attempt. In the photo above, the overlook ends in a vertical drop in front of me that plunges over 70 m (230 ft) feet to the rocks below. What appears to be a clump of  green bushes to my left are actually the tops of some very tall trees growing in the base of the box canyon.  On our very first expedition, we didn't even get this far. Using Gerry's map as a guide, I printed out an overlapping succession of Google satellite photos showing what appeared to be the correct route. A Google map only shows detail down to a certain level, not sufficient to pick up road conditions. My friend Bob, a retired veterinarian from Colorado, got within a couple of kilometers of the trailhead near the hairpin turn before his car bottomed-out on one of the many large rocks protruding from the farm road. Since it was a hot day, and several of our party on that trip were were non-hikers, we cancelled that attempt. However, we were happy enough that we had scouted out the right road for a future venture. On the way back through Contla I also noticed, for the first time, the ruins of the Hacienda de San José de Contla, which we visited during expedition #3. In Part 2 of this series, you can see the Hacienda and read about its colorful history. Photo by Chuck Boyd

Telephoto shot of the head of the left waterfall from the overlook. From this angle, the cascade appears to shoot out of a cave in the cliff. This illusion was created by the water cutting a narrow slot down into the cliff before it drops precipitously to the bottom. Of our 4 expeditions, only the 2nd and 4th managed to get down into the canyon, and only the 4th, and last (so far) got all the way down to the base of the waterfalls. On our 2nd trip, Gerry Green came along as one of our drivers. He confirmed we were on the right road, and led us to the overlook, but we couldn't immediately find a trail leading down from there. After driving up and down the mountain roads for a while looking for an access point, we finally encountered a young Mexican cowboy on horseback.

The right-hand waterfall also cut a slot in the canyon wall and was even higher than the left one. The young cowboy identified himself as Raul, the owner of the land around the box canyon. He told us he had heard us from across the canyon, thrashing about while we looked for a trail. He had jumped on his horse to come see what was up. When he understood what we were about, he immediately agreed to guide us down into his canyon. My long-time blog readers may recall that it was another farmer, also named Raul, that guided us to the big waterfalls of the Barranca Yerba Buena and later invited us to his Corn Harvest Fiesta. We thought it hilarious that two farmers, many miles apart, would both guide us to local waterfalls and both be named Raul. I was also interested that this young farmer--Raul #2--who lived so far back in Mexico's remote mountain country, spoke perfect English. It turned out that his family lives in the US and he was the designated one to come down to keep an eye on the family farm. Raul took us down to the top of two house-sized boulders close the base of the canyon. Since it was late in the day on that trip, and we were already covered head-to-foot in mud from the slippery trail, we did not go further down. We all left happy, including Raul seemed glad that we had come to break up the monotony of his lonesome back-country life.

We reach the base of the canyon, at last! On our 4th and most recent expedition, I was again the only one with previous experience in the canyon. Nine of us crowded into my friend Mike's Chevy Suburban. We stayed overnight in Mazamitla, where we enjoyed the amenities of that Magic Pueblo. From Mazamitla it is about an hour's drive to Contla, and another 45 minutes up the farm road to the trailhead. Once again, we thrashed around, trying to follow a faint trail to the bottom. Thick, nearly impenetrable underbrush had grown up everywhere since we were last here. We seemed destined for another thwarted attempt to reach the bottom. I was beginning to think there was a jinx going on here, either on the canyon, or on me. When we retraced our steps to the overlook, we encountered one of the women hikers who had wisely declined to engage in what we euphemistically call "bushwhacking".  She told us that, while poking around a little, she had stumbled on a new trail. It turned out to be more direct than the one we had descended with Raul. It was quite steep, but clear of brush. Finally, we reached a large, clear pool at the bottom. Success!   Ian Baker photo

Jumbles of rocks in the stream create numerous small waterfalls. The boulder in upper right of the photo is as big is my Toyota. I soon found other, much bigger rocks. After resting for a bit, I unpacked my camera and began to explore the bottom of the canyon. Whatever jinx might still be lurking, I was determined not to miss any photographic opportunities this time. I set off and began climbing over, under, and around the huge boulders littering the area. I was so intent, I neglected to mention to the others where I was going.

Right-hand waterfall, from the side. The waterfall looks smaller here than it really is, because you can't see the upper stages from here, or the final drop at the bottom. As I moved around among the boulders, I glanced up occasionally, wondering when the last large rock fall had occurred, and whether I would be under the next.

Right-hand waterfall from the front. Here you see the upper 2/3 of the falls. The water has become a heavy mist by the bottom of the photo, a product of its long drop.

A curtain of water. The water created a misty curtain that screened the cliff behind it. It was little more than a fine spray at this point.

The final destination. The misty spray coated the black basaltic rocks at the bottom of the right-hand falls. The abundance of this airborne water encouraged ferns, moss and other water-loving plants all around the area.

Left and right-hand falls from below. Because of the difficult camera angles, and the many obstacles on the canyon bottom, this was a difficult shot to achieve. You can clearly see the water-cut slot from which the falls on the left drop. I was surprised to learn from Raul during expedition #2 that these two falls come from two entirely unconnected streams.

The sheer walls of the box canyon extended away into the distance. I considered a hike down the canyon to see if another way out could be found, but the day was getting late and all the obstacles would make the going very slow. It's always good to leave something for next time.

More house-sized boulders blocked my approach to the left-hand falls. The bottom of the left falls can be seen in the upper right of the photo. While in some cases, I could jump from one boulder to another, at other times I had to crawl between them, or clamber over. I was beginning to wonder why I didn't see or hear any of my hiking companions.

Large wasp nest in the canyon. We were not the only creatures inhabiting the area. This nest was about 1 m. (3 ft) tall. The wasps looked ferocious, but were not aggressive. I suppose I could have stuck a stick in their nest to see if I could get a rise from them, but I'm not really that much of a lunatic. Photo by Chuck Boyd

A tree grows out of the sheer side of the cliff. I am always amazed by the tenacity of life. Wherever there is the faintest possibility of life, you will find it, even in inhospitable places like the vertical side of this stony cliff face.

Another form of life. These mushrooms grew lushly among the decaying branches fallen from the tall trees at the bottom of the canyon.

Left-hand falls from a distance. As I boulder-hopped closer, I got this view of the left-hand falls. The sun, which only fully lights this deep canyon for a few hours a day, had already left this waterfall in the shade.

Telephoto of the lip of the left-hand falls. The rock through which the water cut must be hard, because the slot is so narrow.

The full view of the left-hand falls.  I finally got into a position where I could photograph this cascade from top to bottom. At this point, I was concerned that I hadn't seen or heard anyone for quite some time. When I returned to the pool at the bottom of the trail where I had left our group, not a soul was there. I searched around for some sort of note or other indication of where they might have gone. Did they walk on down the canyon, as I had considered? Did they return to the top without me? Were they kidnapped by narcos? I was perplexed and annoyed. If they had left without me, it was a violation of one of our most important hiking protocols: no one gets left behind. Finally, I left a note on a prominent rock and began to climb out. About 1/2 way up, I ran into two of our party who had come looking for me. The rest had returned to the top, assuming I had preceded them. While I was pretty grumpy about it at the time, I later reflected that I was at least as much at fault as anyone else, because I had failed to mention where I was going. In a remote area like this, searching for an injured and possibly unconscious person would be problematic. To carry someone up the steep slippery switchbacks would be very difficult at best. Something to think about for the future.

This completes Part 3 of my Mazamtila series. The Sierra del Tigre is a marvelous area to visit, with something for everyone: a Magic Pueblo, old colonial ruins, and wonderful hiking opportunities. I always enjoy feedback. If you would like to comment, please either leave it in the Comments section below, or email me directly.

If you leave a question in the Comments section PLEASE leave your email address so I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim

Mazamitla Part 2: The Ex-Hacienda de Contla and the route through the Sierra del Tigre

The arches suggest a ruined cathedral, but this was a sugarmill.  The small town of Contla sits astride Mexican Highway 110 in the foothills of the Sierra del Tigre. I found it, and the ruins, on an expedition to find some huge double waterfalls far back in the mountains. The next posting after this one will tell the story of the series of expeditions we made to explore the waterfalls. The ruins of Hacienda de San José de Contla, and the history behind them, are so evocative that I thought they deserved their own posting. The story of the Hacienda is also the story of Mex 110, an excellent two-lane road stretching through the heart of the Sierra del Tigre. Starting in La Barca, near the eastern end of Lake Chapala, the road passes over steep and heavily wooded ridges and through long narrow valleys toward the southwest. Passing through the mountain resort of Mazamitla, and then through Contla, Mex 110 ends at the city of Colima near the Pacific Coast. For a Google map showing Mex 110 as it passes through the Sierra del Tigre, click here.

Entrance to the hacienda. The ruins look like the skeleton of some immense dinosaur. They stand just off the highway on the west part of town. At least one family has taken up residence in a corner of the remains. For a panoramic view of the ruins, click here. The main activity in Hacienda de San José de Contla's later years was producing sugar. The lush, iridescent green cane still grows for miles all around Contla. The Spanish word hacienda means "place where something is done or made". In spite of its function as a factory, the building seen above is graceful and architecturally appealing. Archways supported by tall columns seem almost lacy in their delicacy. Mex 110, which passes in front of the ruins, follows a route through the Sierra del Tigre important since pre-hispanic times. It connects the uplands of Michoacan, once the heart of the Tarascan Empire (also called the Purépecha) to Colima and the Pacific Coast. The Teco Kingdom was based in the area of modern Colima and trade between the Tarascans and the Tecos passed back and forth along this route. Both areas were home to even earlier cultures, whose names are unknown but whose remains have been found. These early cultures also appear to have communicated and traded.

Shyly curious, a little girl clings to her father's leg. The woman whom we initially encountered was not particularly welcoming. However, after a few moments, a man stepped out. When he understood that we only wanted to photograph the ruins, he quite amiably told us to explore as much as we wanted. His beautiful little daughter attracted almost as many cameras as the ruins. The modern village of Contla has 1752 inhabitants, and sits in a long narrow valley at 1160m (3835 ft) in altitude. The local economy is based on agriculture, largely corn, cattle and sugar cane production. Photo by Chuck Boyd

Pastel paint still outlines the archways, set off against the white plastered walls. As we approached the ruins, I could see lines of columns inside. My photographic instincts switched into high gear. More than trade passed along the route that now traverses Contla. Armies marched this way. In 1165 AD, the Aztecs founded nearby Mazamitla as a military outpost guarding their frontier against their ancient enemies, the Tarascans. In 1481 AD, the Tarascans invaded the area. They passed through what would become Contla on their way to capture the salt beds near Laguna de Sayula, just north of Colima. Salt was an extremely important comodity for food preparation and preservation, and for industrial processes such as textile manufacture. The Tarascan Empire had little salt of its own. The Teco Kingdom controlled the Laguna Sayula and resisted the Tarascan invasion fiercely in what became known as the Salt War. The struggle continued until the Tecos finally drove out the Tarascans in 1510 AD, only a few years before the Spanish arrived. It was just such intramural conflicts as this that made the Spanish "divide and conquer" strategy so successful.

Rain water beads the petals of this frangipani. Lowering skies gave the ruins a somber look but didn't detract from their beauty, which was enhanced by the flowers we encountered just to the left of the ruin entrance. Their formal name, Plumeria rubra, was provided by my flower expert Ron Parsons (see the link to his website on the "Other Sites to Visit" to the right). The rain had prevented our group of hikers from reaching our waterfall goal. Our disappointment gave us extra incentive to spend some time at the Hacienda de San José de Contla. The Spanish conquistadors under Crisobal de Olid and Juan Rodgriguez Villafuerte passed through here in 1522, sent by Hernán Cortéz to explore the area after his conquest of the Aztecs. Over the next several years they conquered the Tecos, who put up a fierce resistance but to no avail. Some years after that, Nuño Beltran de Guzman shattered the Tarascan Empire with a brutality that rivals Heinrich Himmler. The ancient kingdoms and their rivalries disappeared in the holocaust of Spanish oppression and European diseases.

The ruins' tall smokestacks tower over the town of Contla, marking the hacienda from miles around. The smokestacks, framed above by one of the many arches, are the tallest structures in Contla and make the ruins easy to find. After the Conquest, the Spanish imposed the encomienda system on the local indigenous people. Cortéz and later Spanish authorities parceled out the indigenous people to their soldiers as rewards for services to the crown. The conquistadors could demand tribute from local villages in terms of food and other goods and, most importantly, labor. The early haciendas, churches, and great public buildings were built under a system that, in effect, was little more than slavery by another name. In 1537, the Spanish crown permitted the establishment of the town of San Cristobal Mazamitla. At about the same time the indigenous people of the Contla area became part of an encomienda that later became known as the Hacienda de San Jose de Contla.

Remains of ancient rafters droop from walls and pillars. The whole structure is roofless, except for the small part occupied by the family we met. The thick plaster has peeled away from the walls in places, showing the brickwork underneath. The conquistadors and their descendants continued to extort labor and goods from the local people for almost a century before the first legal documents appeared officially recognizing the Hacienda de San José de Contla, which had become an important center of production. In 1643, the Spanish Viceroy Garcia Sarmiento, Count of Salvatierra, signed the papers creating the Hacienda. The next year a man named Alcaraz gained control of it because of his military services to the Crown. By the mid-18th Century, Francisco José Alcaraz y Silva appears in the records as the owner, indicating that the same family was still in control. He was a priest and Commissioner of the Spanish Inquisition, a position of great power. When Francisco died in 1752, another relative named Salvador Alcaraz gained control and expanded the estate to include three neighboring haciendas called Buena Vista, San Lazaro, and Santa Gertrudis. The Hacienda was becoming a power in the area. Documents from 1749 show the Hacienda's owner as the most senior official in the District Church of Zapotlan el Grande. At this time church and state power were still closely intertwined.

From death and decay, life emerges. I was impressed by the tenacity of this fern growing at the end of one of the rotting rafters. Life passes to death and then returns. Perhaps some day this ruin will once again become full of life and energy. When Salvador Alcaraz died, his wife Michaela Gomez Cordero was the executor and heir apparent. In 1779, she married Captain Juan Domingo de Istalarti of the Provincial Militia. There appears to have been some dispute in the family over who should have been the real heir, and Spanish authorities finally declared that José Maria Alcaraz was the owner. He married Mariana Macías Valadez in 1821, just as the Mexican War of Independence ended. Disputes like this were not uncommon in colonial New Spain and 19th Century Mexico. Haciendas were a key locus of political and economic power, much as feudal estates were in Europe of the middle ages, and among the plantations of the pre-Civil War American South.

Large round windows grace the back wall of one of the stately, tall-ceilinged rooms. Once filled with glass, they now are filled only with wild vegetation. Life on the Hacienda moved at a leisurely pace that would seem glacial to modern sensibilities. However, there were occasional moments of great crisis. Throughout the colonial period, and well into the 19th Century, epidemics threatened to wipe out the local population. The inhabitants of the area resorted to ancient shamanistic remedies, coupled with Catholic religious processions. Another kind of crisis occurred during the War of Independence from Spain (1810-1821) when local insurgents battled royalist troops at Zapatero, a pass on the road through the mountains about half way between Mazamitla and Contla. The insurgents were led by Francisco Echeverria who triumphed over the Spanish troops but died of his wounds in Mazamitla shortly after the 1812 battle. Once again, the route that today forms Mex 110 played an important role in the struggle for control of passage through the Sierra del Tigre.

Vaulted ceilings covered both the ground and second floor of this portion of the main building. Following War of Independence, common people (indigenous and mestizos) were freed--at least theoretically--from the yolk of the hacienda owners. However, the struggle between the common people and the creoles (people of Spanish origin born in the New World) had existed since long before the beginning of the independence struggle, even though they were united in their desire to oust the royalists. This social tension weakened the insurgency, and probably caused the independence war to go on much longer than it would have otherwise. Basically, the creoles wanted to continue their dominance through the hacienda system. The common people wanted freedom and the social revolution promised by Miguel Hidalgo, a martyred early leader of the insurgency. A local Sierra del Tigre man, Gordiano Guzman, rose as a leader during the Independence War. Born on land controlled by the owners of Hacienda de San José de Contla, Guzman led post-Independence resistance in the Sierra del Tigre against the reimposition of control by the creoles who formed the landed oligarcy.  In a struggle called the "Revolución del Sur" (Revolution of the South) Guzman fought heroically from 1821 until 1831 when he was finally persuaded to sign a peace agreement at the Hacienda de San José de Contla with representatives of Nicolás Bravo, an early President of the new nation of Mexico. Guzman was one of the very few early leaders of the War of Independence to survive the war and its immediate aftermath.

Evangelina and Patricia chat in the great hall of the Hacienda. This photo gives some sense of the size of the room. The two lower windows in the front have been bricked up, but in its glory days they, along with the two windows above, would have flooded the room with light. Evangelina and Patricia are two Mexican hikers who were part of the expedition to the double waterfalls. After the formal end of the Revolución del Sur, the struggle continued informally and morphed in the the broader fight between the Conservatives and the Liberals, called the Reform Wars, that lasted into the 1860s. In 1854, Gordiano Guzman came out of retirement in a bid to reignite the social revolution. However, he was captured and shot by Conservative forces. The present community of Ciudad de Guzman was named after this hero of the common people.

An arched passage has been bricked up by the adobe behind the peeling plaster. 19th Century Mexico was full of wars, insurrections, foreign invasions and general chaos until the final victory of Benito Juarez over the French-imposed "Emperor" Maximilian. Installed by French Emperor Napoleon III, Maximilian used French troops and turncoat Mexicans from the Conservative Party in his unsuccessful attempt to subdue Juarez, Mexico's democratically-elected president. French forces invaded the Sierra del Tigre and burned the archives at Mazamitla. Many creole hacienda owners supported Maximilian because he represented stability and protection of their privileges. Others supported Juarez because he advocated stripping the Catholic Church of the wealth and special powers it had accumulated since the earliest colonial times. These creoles turned greedy eyes toward that soon-to-be-dispossessed wealth. I have been unable to determine where the owners of Hacienda de San José de Contla stood. Many creoles changed sides as the political and military winds shifted, so the Ochoa family, owners of the Hacienda at this time, could have been on either side at one time or another. In order to protect their wealth and privileges in the chaos of the 19th Century, many hacienda owners banded together and formed private armies called Guardias Blancas (White Guards). While banditry was unquestionably a problem in the rural areas, the Guardias Blancas were also used as death squads to suppress any attempt by rural people to organize.

At Hacienda de San José de Contla, the past looks out onto the future. A series of empty windows frame emerald sugar cane fields and the blue Sierra Tigre mountains beyond. While the old hacienda ruins stand in empty solitude, the ripening cane outside will sometime soon be harvested and might even end up on your kitchen table. The reforms of Benito Juarez were followed by the 34-year dictatorship of Porfirio Diaz. In the latter half of the 19th Century, the Ochoa family sold their interest in the Hacienda de San José de Contla to an American named Livingston. Under Diaz, hacienda owners regained and increased their power, and he also encouraged foreigners like Livingston to invest in Mexico. Many hacienda owners used the "company store" system to impose a form a debt-slavery on the hacienda workers, and others illegally seized indigenous communal lands to expand their domains. All this was enforced by the formal power of the Diaz government, and informally by the Guardias Blancas. Finally, in 1910, the pot boiled over and the Mexican Revolution tore through the countryside. Rural people, known as agraristas, rose up and joined the Revolutionary armies. Pancho Villa's forces were active in the Sierra del Tigre area. The agraristas' aims of land reform were supported, off and on, by the various Revolutionary governments. Although I have not been able to determine the exact circumstances of the demise of Hacienda de San José de Contla, the fact that it stands today as a hollow shell of its former glory testifies to a bad end. Most probably, it was broken up and the land distributed to local agraristas, with the buildings and machinery of the Hacienda looted and allowed to fall into ruin.

This concludes Part 2 of my 3-part Mazmamitla series. Part 3 will show the gorgeous double waterfalls deep in the mountains to the north of Contla and detail the 4 attempts it took to finally reach the bottom of this elusive waterfall's canyon. I always appreciate feedback and if you'd like to leave a comment, please do so in the Comments section below or email me directly. 

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Hasta luego, Jim