Zamora Part 8: Patamban, a window into the past

A local couple sits across from Patamban's plaza. Portales (covered walkways) line all four sides of this small pueblo's plaza. Patamban is a very picturesque community located in the mountains to the south of Zamora. The couple above were among the few people we saw on the streets when we arrived. The empty cobbled streets and rustic structures gave the place an other-worldly feeling, like stepping into the past. For a Google map of Patamban and the surrounding area, click here.


Plaza Patamban

A pretty plaza occupies the center of the pueblo. One of the few residents to be seen was the little girl in front of the kiosco (bandstand). Unlike most Mexican plazas, the kiosco in this one is rectangular rather than octagonal. The town descends in stages down the side of a hill, with about half the town above the plaza and the other half below. In this shot, you are looking uphill.

Across the cobblestone street from the plaza is another set of portales. This one contains a block of local government offices. In most pueblos I have visited in Mexico, the portales' pillars are stone or sometimes brick covered with plaster. In Michoacan, because of the state's vast forests, wood is used for pillars, as well as window frames and balconies.

A local vendor set up shop on the steps of yet another set of portales. She was selling large wooden paddles for stirring food in a vat, as well as smaller wooden cooking tools. We had arrived at the tail-end of the tianguis (street market). Usually once a week, residents of the pueblo and the surrounding villages gather at the plaza to sell each other the produce they grow or handicrafts they make. Patamban's artisans specialize in pottery. In the upper left, you can see a small store with the name Abarrotes Orozco. Abarrotes are groceries and Orozco is the name of the proprietor. A stand along the walkway advertises "Hot Cakes". Like many other pueblos in Michoacan, Patamban's local tongue is Purépecha and Spanish is only the second language. Given this, I was surprised at how often English signs appear.

A pair of local women chat in the street while another couple walk in the distance. Not only were the streets empty of people, but also of cars, trucks, or other motor vehicles. All this gave the place a 19th century feeling. Notice, also, how the streets are free of trash or debris in all these photos. People here may be poor, but they take pride in their community.

A sign for Sol beer adorns the worn wooden walls of this walkway. Nearly all the roofs in town were covered with red clay tiles. This method of roofing can be traced back 10,000 years to Neolithic China and the Middle East. During the millennia since, the practice of roofing with clay tiles spread all over the world. One of the primary benefits is the fire resistance of clay tiles.

A single pedestrian strolls down another quiet street. Most of the buildings in town appeared to be constructed of adobe or concrete, or a combination of both. The streets are paved with cobblestone, the cheapest and easiest paving method in poor communities.

Iglesia San Francisco de Asisi

The forecourt of San Francisco Church is approached through this old gateway. Through the gate, you can see a colonial-era cross set on a pedestal in the middle of the forecourt. Behind it is the main entrance of the church.

View of the church from within the forecourt. The man in the cowboy hat, seen in the lower right, kindly informed us that most of the village was attending a funeral inside the church. He assured us that the service would end shortly and that we could then enter for photographs. Such courtesy and friendliness to outsiders are often encountered in Mexico's remote pueblos. The yellow structure was constructed in the 17th and 18th centuries, while the steeple is more recent.

The main entrance to the church is framed by carved stone. A century ago or so, this part of the church was damaged by an earthquake and then rebuilt. The very first church on this site was constructed in the 1550s by a Franciscan friar named Juan de San Miguel. However, that primitive adobe and thatch structure was later replaced by a sturdier stone building.

The left side of the church shows some of the 17th century construction. The old staircase leads to an arched doorway framed by simple, unadorned pilasters. Notice how the wall on either side is constructed using stones of various sizes and shapes. This is an indication of the early date of its construction, when evenly cut stones weren't available. Set in the wall above the doorway is a fascinating little relief sculpture.

The sculpture above the entrance portrays three figures standing in the doorways of a church. The figures are quite worn and obviously very old. Richard Perry publishes the website Arts of Colonial Mexico. He is my best source on colonial arts and architecture. According to Richard, the reliefs above "appear to portray Saints Peter (left) and Paul (right) with God the Father at center."

This keystone is located at the top of an arched doorway to the right of the main entrance. The date "1700" marks the inauguration of this part of the church. The arched doorway leads into the patio of the old Franciscan cloister.

The stone patio of the 300 year old cloister was covered by green moss. I could almost hear the shuffling sandals of the friars who onced lived and worked here. The balcony of the cloister's upper story carries the decorations from a recent fiesta. I was hesitant to intrude on this space, but one of the women working there cheerily waved me in.

Main sanctuary of the church. The church has a single nave, very simply decorated, as befits a Franciscan edifice. The Franciscans were generally quite serious about their vows of poverty and simplicity.

The main altar area. Again, simplicity reigns. Lit by candles, a few pieces of furniture and statues adorn the space. In some churches I have visited, actual candles have been replaced by banks of electric lightbulbs. Instead of lighting them with a match, you put in a coin. Call me a traditionalist, but I prefer the real thing.

In a side chapel, a worshiper contemplates a statue of Christ on the Cross. She is wrapped in a traditional rebozo (shawl) of brilliant blue. Several of the women in my photos wear similar rebozos. People in little pueblos like Patamban are deeply religious.

Hospital de la Concepción Inmaculada

An old adobe building stands adjacent to the atrium of Iglesia San Francisco. This is probably the oldest structure on the church property, possibly dating back to the 16th century. It is quite similar to another structure I showed in my previous posting on San José de Gracia. Both structures were built for the same purpose: hospitality. The original meaning of "hospital" was different in those days. These places were originally intended to offer food, shelter, and religious services to pilgrims. Over time, the friars began to provide medical treatment for the sick and injured. Ultimately that became the primary function of these hospitals.

Entrance to the hospital. Decorative carving adorns the stone doorway. The lower walls are of rough stone, while the upper section is of adobe. The wooden door may be hundreds of years old. I find structures like this deeply evocative, as well as highly photogenic. The very air I breathed seemed ancient.

A pair of school girls pauses for a photo. With a little persuasion, these two stopped and produced shy smiles for me. Mexico's beautiful children are often my best photographic subjects.

This concludes Part 8 of my series on Zamora, and ends the series itself. I hope you have enjoyed visiting Patamban and can stop in there some time in the future. If you would like to leave a question or a comment about this posting, please do so either in the Comments section below or by emailing me directly.

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

Hasta luego, Jim

Zamora Part 7: Random rambles in the Centro Historico

Tidy, well-kept streets with lovely old architecture characterize Zamora's Centro Historico. One of the activities we like best, when visiting a new place, is to simply wander the streets. This yields many small but interesting details for my photography, as well good people-watching, a favorite activity of Carole's. Above, we are looking down Calle Cázares toward its intersection with Calle Hidalgo. The steeple of Templo San Francisco peeps over the rooftop in the background. You will find iron benches wherever you go in Mexico, often set under shady trees, ready for the weary stroller.

View down Calle Allende, one of the town's pedestrian-only streets that lead to Plaza Zamora. More benches line this interesting walkway. In this case, they have formed handy places to park a bicycle and a motorcycle. It is always a relief to encounter one of these refuges from the rush of traffic and smell of exhaust fumes.

Little details like this door knocker tend to catch my eye. The old iron knocker is set off nicely by the cracked paint on the wooden door. It looks to be of 18th or possibly 19th century design.

A jolly workman cavorts in front of Templo San Francisco. By his clothing and bucket, I would guess that he makes his living washing the cars of people who park along the street. You will find these guys everywhere (and they are nearly always men). It's often very convenient to have them clean your car when you have a spare 30 minutes or so. They do a good job and generally charge only about $30 pesos (about $2.00 USD). This fellow seemed surprised when I asked to take his photo but then decided to have fun with it.

Café Expendio is located across Calle Hidalgo from Templo San Francisco. Café means "coffee" and expendio means "small shop", so this is a place where you can buy a cup of coffee and maybe a pastry. Notice the decorative door frames. This building used to be someone's mansion, probably built in the 19th century. The wealthy of earlier eras generally built their town houses in the most prestigious areas--on or near a plaza. In modern times, these structures have been transformed into the many small shops you typically find around a plaza.

Iconic photo from the Mexican Revolution. This famous photo by German photographer Hugh Brehme was taken in Aguascalientes during a meeting of Revolutionary leaders in late 1914. The Convention of Aguascalientes sought, unsuccessfully, to end the fighting and form a new government. The soldiers on the cowcatcher are followers of Emiliano Zapata, called Zapatistas. The mechanista (railroad mechanic) in the dark suit, standing to the left of the soldiers, is Wesley Daniel Brockway, an American railroad employee. In my blog post on the Aguascalientes Railway Museum, I had published a cropped version of this same photo that excluded the man in the grey suit with his hands on his hips. Some months before our Zamora trip, the mechanista's grandson, Wes Brockway, contacted me through my blog's comments section. He asked if I had the full photo, which included his great-grandfather, William Brockway--the grey suited man. After extensively searching my photo files and the internet, I failed to come up with anything but the cropped version. Much later, while strolling through Zamora, Carole and I stopped to eat at a rather nondescript restaurant. As we waited for our order, I wandered around the place, looking at the old photos on the walls. I almost passed this one by, but then noticed that it is the full version, including William Brockway! I quickly took a shot of this rare version and emailed it to Wes Brockway upon our return to Ajijic.

Decorative lintel above a doorway. This one has a crack in the middle and has obviously seen better days. The door way is part of a structure that was built at least in the 19th century and possibly earlier.

Carole passes another doorway, this one leading to a lawyer's office. Notice the sign on the right advertising abogados, spanish for "attorneys". The width of the door indicates it was once the main entrance of a mansion, possibly even the carriage entrance.

19th century apartment building, located on Calle Melchor Ocampo. As with many of these old buildings, the ground floor has been transformed into a multitude of small stores, including Yasmine's Boutique, and one of the ubiquitous "Telcel" cell phone stores. Telcel is owned by Carlos Slim, a billionaire who long ago immigrated from Lebanon. He is Mexico's richest man and one of the richest in the world. Slim also owns Telmex, the land-line system. He recently cut a deal with the Mexican government which now allows Telmex customers to call anywhere in Mexico or North America for free.

Keystone over a doorway arch. This magnificent architectural detail is typical of the 18th and 19th centuries. Notice the graceful lines and floral decorations. The arch, as an architectural feature, first appeared in Mesopotamia in the second millennium. However, it was not until the time of the Roman Empire that they were used extensively. The true arch was unknown in pre-hispanic Mexico and only appeared after the Spanish arrival.

This completes Part 7 of my Zamora series. I hope you enjoyed it and, if so, you will leave any thoughts, comments, or questions in the Comments section below or email me directly. If you leave a question in the Comments section PLEASE leave your email address so that I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim

Zamora Part 6: Cowboy saints and devils on motorcycles

Indigenous mask from the Purépecha pueblo of Ocumicho. During our visit to Zamora, Carole and I scheduled a day trip to investigate several of the small pueblos in the mountains surrounding the city. These pueblos are the home of the native Purépecha people, the largest indigenous population in Michoacan and one of the largest in all Mexico. The carved wooden masks of Michoacan are very distinctive. They are usually anthropomorphic, in this case a mixture of human and cow. Other very common features of Michoacan masks are snakes, lizards, or insects writhing across the features of a mask, along with intricate and vividly painted designs. We purchased this one from one of the artisans in Ocumicho for approximately $24.00 USD.


San José de Gracia and its old Franciscan mission

The squat steeple and the double choir window over the door are typical of this region. During my research for this blog post, I consulted with Richard Perry, an expert on the colonial religious architecture of Mexico. He edits a website call Arts of Colonial Mexico and has written a wonderful book called Blue Lakes and Silver Cities. Anyone visiting the states of Jalisco, Michoacan, Guanajuato or Querétaro should pick up a copy. Richard believes this is a Franciscan church, part of a small mission complex sited in the pueblo of San José de Gracia. The town, also known as San José Ocumicho, has only 558 inhabitants, living in 112 households. We discovered it on the way to the larger pueblo of Ocumicho, which was one of our intended destinations on this day trip.

Near the altar of the church, we discovered this rather startling figure. The statue is about 3/4 human size and is set up as a special display in front of the altar. The nature of the display led me to believe that it may be for a special saint's day, rather than being part of the church's regular decoration. Richard suggested the figure might be San Isidro, whose feast day is in May. However, June 28 was the date we visited. In any case, the figure (who might well be a woman) is dressed in a Mexican serape and wearing a rather fancy cowboy hat. Wrapped around the statue's waist is an elaborate leather apron with a flower design. I would be happy to hear from anyone who might be able to identify him/her.

A horse grazes peacefully by the ruins of an old Franciscan hospital for the Purépecha. When I spotted this structure on the street leading into town, we immediately decided it was worth investigating. Our interest increased when we saw that it was adjacent to the old Franciscan church. I thought it might have been the original colonial church, since most of the oldest churches were simple adobe structures like this one. When I emailed the photo to Richard Perry, he replied that this may have been a hospital attached to the mission complex. Its structure is very similar to one that Richard has definitely identified as a Franciscan hospital in the nearby pueblo of Patamban. Another very similar hospital in the pueblo of San Lorenzo is pictured in Blue Lakes and Silver Cities. The adobe structure seen above is rectangular and its exterior is covered by plaster. The clay tile roof is supported by wooden rafters. The only entrance is the arched door.

View through the door, showing adobe walls and carved wooden rafters. The interior was overgrown with brush. Apparently the the adobe walls inside the hospital were never plastered, or perhaps the plaster has fallen away. The only brick or stone elements of the structure I found were in the frame of the doorway. The original Spanish "hospitals" were not intended for medical purposes, but to offer shelter, food, and religious services to pilgrims. After all, hospital is the root word for hospitality. As the Spanish Church began establishing missions in the New World, hospitals were seen as a conversion mechanisms. The friars acted as health care providers in order to supplant their main rivals, the native shamans. Thus, the focus of the mission hospitals increasingly became medical care.

I was intrigued by the graceful carving of the wood rafters. The Purépecha were famous as woodcarvers before and after the Spanish arrival. The vast forests blanketing the mountains of Michoacan gave them ample working material. Hospitals such as this were utilised primarily by the indigenous people. The Spanish overlords avoided them both because of a fear of infectious diseases and because institutional care implied poverty. The Spanish preferred to receive their health care delivery at home.

Ocumicho, home of the little devils

Church of St. Peter and St. Paul in Ocumicho's plaza. This old colonial church is small but very charming. Ocumicho is built on a hillside so the streets wander a bit rather than conforming to the usual colonial grid pattern. Ocumicho was the name of the original Purépecha village. One translation means "place of the cobs", a reference to the production of maiz (corn). Another is "place of the tanners" referring to the tanning deer hides for leather and shoes, an early village specialty. The Spanish who settled here in the mid-16th century received their town charter in 1568. The Iglesia de San Pedro y San Pablo (seen above) was completed in 1622.

View of the rear of the church. The unusual conical buttresses on the rear corners of the structure caught my eye. This church also has an old hospital attached to it, along with other colonial-era buildings. According to Perry's book, Blue Lakes and Silver Cities, the church/hospital complex was a visita (local branch) of the Franciscan monastery at Tarecuato.

Two girls sit by the entrance of the mission complex. They are giggling over a note in the hands of the girl on the right. I am betting that it was received that day from a boy at their school. Kids are kids, wherever one encounters them.

Incense drifts toward the ceiling at the altar of the church. A Purépecha woman moved about, fumigating the various images and statues of saints with incense. Another couple of women sit near the front, chanting quietly. When I asked her, the woman with the incense confirmed that it was copal. Copal incense had been used for centuries by pre-hispanic civilisations in their religious rites. Since incense had long been used in Catholic religious rites, copal was quickly adopted by evangelising friars. Copal comes from the resin of the copal tree (Protium copal) and has an aromatic but slightly acrid scent.

An Ocumicho artisan, dressed in traditional Purépecha style. This woman was one of those we encountered in the church. She spotted us immediately as potential customers and quickly persuaded us to visit her nearby home in order to view her pottery creations. The local artisans, who appeared to be largely women, were friendly and not the least bit shy about button-holing stray tourists who might come their way. Since we had visited Ocumicho in good part because of its reputation for artisanship, we were an easy catch. She led us through a maze of ancient streets to her home. Most of the local artisan's work is not sold in Ocumicho itself, but in Zamora or other Michoacan cities. There are few places where the work is displayed. You must seek out the artisans, or let them find you. In our case, it didn't take long.

A grinning little devil revs up his motorcycle. Carole selected this little guy. On his front mudguard is a chicken and a basket of fresh eggs adorns the rear. Devil figures like this are a speciality of Ocumicho and have made the pueblo famous. Each figure is unique and made by hand by the artisan. Most are portrayed in a humorous manner. According to local legend, one day the devil came to Ocumicho and bothered everyone. He entered the trees and killed them. Locals dogs did nothing but shake and cry. He pursued people and made them sick and mad. Finally, someone had the idea of creating little devil figures so that Ocumicho could become a place where the devil could live without bothering anyone. Who created the first devil figure is a matter of some dispute. Some say it was a young man named Marcelino. Others claim it was a grandmother named Guadalupe Linares Margarita. Whoever it was, the local community has benefited greatly.

This little dragon-dog was my favourite. With his lolling tongue and happy face, I couldn't resist. He comes equipped with a pair of colorful wings, but I have yet to see him fly. This style of creature is called an alebrije. The style originated in Mexico City in the 1930s. when an artist named Pedro Linares created the first examples based on a dream. While sick with a fever, he hallucinated a forest filled with strange, unknown animals. All were crying out "alebrije!", a word which has no meaning in Spanish. He dubbed the creatures alebrijes and began to model them in cardboard and paper maché. His work became popular and the craze for alebrijes spread, eventually reaching the remote village of Ocumicho.

Another artisan displays her carved wooden devil mask. This one is very similar to the one I bought, seen in the first photo of this posting. The woman above is the cousin of the first artisan. She happened to be at her cousin's house when we came to examine the clay devils. As we left, she insisted that we come to see her ware too. That his how I ended up with my beautiful devil mask. The local artisans are nothing if not enterprising.

Reverse side of my Michoacan mask. This view shows how the wood was hollowed out to create a space for the wearer's face. The two small holes, located just above the eyeballs of the mask, allow the wearer to see through it. The ears and horns are inserted with dowels into holes and are removable to allow easy transport.

This completes Part 6 of my Zamora series. I hope you have enjoyed it and, if so, please leave any comments or questions in the Comments section below or email me directly. If you have a question, PLEASE leave your email address so that I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim

Zamora Part 5: The soaring Sanctuary of Guadalupe

Santuario de Guadalupe is located four blocks east of Zamora's Plaza de Armas. After my break to cover Emiliano Zapata and the Mexican Revolution, we'll now return to my series on Zamora. The church above was built in Gothic Revival style, also referred to as Neo-Gothic. Literature about Zamora de Hidalgo nearly always mentions the Santuario as a major point of interest and it truly is spectacular. At 107.5 m (352.7 ft), the twin steeples hold the record for the tallest in Mexico. The figure of the person walking in the right foreground helps provide a sense of scale. For a Google map showing the location of the Santuario in relation to the main plaza, click here.

Juan Diego spreads his tilma (cloak), showing the image of the Virgen de Guadalupe. The church is dedicated as a Sanctuary of the Virgin of Guadalupe. According to the legend, she was first encountered in 1531 by an Aztec whose baptismal name was Juan Diego. One day he happened to pass by the ruined temple of the goddess Tonantzin, located on the Hill of Tepeyac, near Mexico City. Suddenly, a mysterious, dark-skinned, female apparition appeared. Speaking in Nahuatl, his native language, she identified herself as the Virgin Mary and asked that a church be built on the hill in her honor. When Juan Diego went to Archbishop Juan de Zumárraga with the story, he was instructed to ask the apparition for a miracle to confirm that she was, in fact, the Virgin. The Aztec man dutifully returned and related the Archbishop's request. The Virgin told Juan Diego to gather the Castillian roses growing on the hill in his tilma and bring them to the Archbishop. Juan Diego assumed the miracle involved the existence of the roses themselves, which were blooming completely out of their normal season and were not native to Mexico. When the Aztec poured the roses out, the Archbishop was duly impressed. What really wowed him, however, was the image of the Virgin that miraculously appeared upon the surface of the tilma. A Basilica was later built on Tepeyac Hill in honor of the Virgin and the cloak is still on display there.

A Zamora resident strides toward the entrance of the Santuario. Because of her dark skin and fluency in Nahuatl, and the fact that she had first appeared to an indigenous person rather than a Spaniard, the Virgin of Guadalupe became a cult figure to the country's poor and downtrodden native people. Over the centuries, she came to be considered their special patron. However, there was bitter resistance, at least in the early years, to the acceptance of this version of the Virgin. The Franciscans denounced the rapidly growing cult as a sham. They viewed the Virgin of Guadalupe as a cover to enable the continued worship of the pagan goddess Tonantzin. Church leaders expended great effort over the centuries to stamp out any vestiges of the old religions, but with only partial success. Even today, some of the old pagan ways survive. In opposition to the Franciscans, the Dominicans and Augustinians pointed to the thousands of new converts pouring into the churches as a result of the Virgin of Guadalupe's popularity. Their attitude boiled down to "why look a gift horse in the mouth?" After all, the church had accepted the Christmas tree as a legitimate Christian symbol, even though it originated with tree-worshiping Germanic pagans. The bitter argument went on for nearly a hundred years before the practical approach finally prevailed. The Virgin of Guadalupe has since become one of the national symbols of Mexico. She even played a political role when her image was chosen as the battle flag of the insurgent army during the War of Independence against Spain.

Twelve niches adorn the facade of the church exterior, one for each of the Apostles. The Bible briefly mentions San Bartolome (St. Bartholomew)  as an Apostle. He may have been a farmer since his name translates as "son of the furrows." Later non-biblical stories allege that San Bartolome  evangelized in India, Ethiopia, Mesopotamia, Parthia (Persia), and finally Armenia, where he was martyred. The evangelist had apparently converted the King of Armenia, displeasing the King's brother. According to some accounts, the Apostle was flayed alive and then crucified upside down.

Interior of the church, looking toward the altar. Carole can be seen in the lower right. The altar area of the church is bathed in ethereal blue light. The dimensions of the Santuario are extraordinary. The total complex of buildings exceeds 5 acres. Within that area, the footprint of the Santuario itself covers 5,415 square meters (17,766 sq ft). The thirty-six columns of the nave soar 34 meters (111.5 ft) above the floor. Not only are the steeples the tallest in Mexico, the church is also the largest Neo-gothic religious building in the nation, with a capacity of more than 4000 people. Further, it is the fourth largest Catholic church in all the Americas, the ninth largest Neo-gothic cathedral in the world, and the fourteenth largest of any religious complex in the world. Needless to say, it is an impressive structure.

The left transept contains this door, set into one of the earliest sections of the church. The ornate, door was carved from mahogany. The rough stone surrounding the door indicates that this section of the wall was probably built between 1898, when the foundation stone was laid, and 1914 when construction was suspended due to the chaos of the Revolution. In that year, the half-built Santuario became the property of the federal government and was not restored to the Catholic Church until 1988. During the intervening 74 years, the structure was used as a military barracks, then impromptu housing for poor people, still later a school, and then a parking area for Zamora's garbage trucks.

Eerie blue light bathes a statue of the crucifixion, located in the altar area. Behind the statue is one of the massive columns that support the ceiling of the nave. More of the original construction of the church wall can be seen in the background.

This stained glass rosette is one of several that decorate the high walls of the main nave. These stained glass creations were installed in 2008, the 110th anniversary of the placement of the foundation stone. The Santuario de Guadalupe now functions as co-Cathedral of Zamora, along with the Templo de la Concepción (see Part 3 of this series). In 1898, the Church authorities intended for the Templo to function as the "temporary" Cathedral until the Santuario could be finished. As it happened, this took a little longer than originally planned. In 2008, the Church officials decided to create co-Cathedrals rather than demote the Templo, which had faithfully served its function all that time..

View from the right side of the altar area back toward the rear of the Santuario. Each column is four-sided, with a niche for the statue of a saint on each of the sides. As you can see, some of the niches are empty. Apparently not all of the statues have yet been created, or perhaps some were taken down for cleaning.

A brass bell hangs from one of the columns with a pull cord ready for use. I am always pleased when I find a bell that is actually intended for manual use, rather than just for decoration. In some churches, the sounds of bells are recordings broadcast from loudspeakers, a practice I find disconcerting and anachronistic..

View of the rear of the main nave showing the church's large pipe organ (top center).  The organ was brought over from the factory of Alexander Schuke in Germany. Like the rosettes, the organ was installed in 2008.

A grim reminder of the violent Cristero War of 1926-1929. A section of the wall to the left of the altar still shows pockmarks from bullets. Prisoners brought to the military barracks were executed while standing against this wall. Some of those executed, at this church and others around Mexico, were priests who had supported the Cristero rebels. The wall was preserved in this condition to commemorate the faithful who lost their lives here.

This stained-glass image fills a window near the bullet-pocked wall. On the left, the artist has created a scene showing a pile of burning bodies at the WWII German concentration camp called "Dachau". On the far right are the bodies of hanged Cristeros. In the center sits a group of heavily armed Cristero fighters. The artist's message, repeated in a nearby sign, is that the Mexican Revolutionary Government's repression against the Cristeros should be viewed as equivalent to the Holocaust. There were, indeed, human rights abuses, including summary executions, committed by the Revolutionary Government. However, the Cristeros were hardly innocent victims like those at Dachau. They were an armed, counter-revolutionary movement actively fighting the regime. The artist and his Church sponsors leave unstated the many abuses and murders committed by the Cristero fighters themselves. Cristero groups were often employed as death squads by hacienda owners against landless peones who were seeking to exercise their rights under the government's land reform laws. A sign near the stained glass window speaks of "the murder of the innocents", and there was much of that during the Cristero War. However, many of those murdered were killed by the Cristeros themselves. There was enough innocent blood shed during that conflict to stain the hands of everyone involved.

The true height of the steeples can only be appreciated from a distance. As we walked away from the Santuario de Guadalupe, I turned to take this parting shot. The human eye and that of the camera can play odd tricks. When standing near the church, as seen in the first photo of this posting, the steeples look tall, but not extraordinarily so. Here, we can appreciate their true dimensions.

This completes Part 5 of my Zamora series. I hope you have enjoyed visiting the Santuario with me and, if so you will leave any comments or questions in the Comments section below or email me directly.

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

Hasta luego, Jim