Tag Archives: living in rural Mexico

September 4, 2015 · 7:00 am

Hate thy neighbor

shadow

Our lovely girl Shadow, grazing peaceably.

Yesterday, someone injured our lovely lady Shadow. She and Joey were behind that house. While my son was just up the road with the goats, someone sliced Shadow’s leg, unclipped her rope and startled her so that she, Joey and Chokis the dog, bolted down the road to the main intersection. It was our good fortune that the neighbor, the cow barn guy, was coming to collect one of his cows and passed them on the road. He stopped to let me know and urged me to use my moto to catch up with them before they reached the highway. He even loaned my son a lasso since Shadow’s lasso was still tied to the mesquite. I pulled out the moto and my son hopped on behind. He had come a-running as soon as he realized the horses were gone, leaving the goats to fend for themselves.

At top speed, we raced down the road and found the three escapees under a tree off the road. My son walked back home with them. Joey was ornery as all get out, but Shadow had been injured. We put the horses back in their stalls and went in search of the goats, who had wandered up the hill. Seeing the gravity of the injury to Shadow’s leg, I determined that my husband should be notified immediately. Only, he had left his phone at the house. So I raced to his work to tell him and somehow or other he beat me home to take stock of the damage.

Shadow was injured in two places. One was a clean, deep gash all the way to the bone. The other was a jagged edge wound like she got caught on some barbed wire. We won’t know if she has nerve damage until the wounds heal up, but she’s in a lot of pain right now.

This isn’t the first time one of our animals has been deliberately harmed.  Our poor, defenseless donkey Fiona was shot in the hind leg.  Our babies’ mama Beauty‘s hoof was sliced nearly in half.  Countless dogs and cats have been poisoned. Makes you want to cry sometimes.

We suspect C as having done the deed this time. (See Buying a piece of heaven) There’s no proof of course. And really, there isn’t any valid reason, at least in our opinion, for him to have done so. Although he planted corn this year where my husband usually sharecrops (See Sharecropping) our horses have NEVER been in his corn. On the contrary, we have reason to complain about his pig farming. Every few days, another one of his pigs has died and he throws the corpse wherever where Chokis discovers the tasty morsel of raw, rotting bacon and hauls big sections of it down to our house and leaves it at the front door as a present. It’s disgusting! However, we haven’t called the Department of Ecologia yet.

grazing Shadow

Notice there is not a corn plant to be seen!

This week we have also had a complaint from another neighbor. He claims that it was our horses that have been nibbling his corn. It simply isn’t true. Ever since our other neighbor’s horses were stolen last year, including Spirit one of Beauty’s babies, we have kept our horses close to home. They are either tied or within sight. When no one is there to mind them, they remain in their stalls. The neighbor’s reasoning is that our horses are the closest to his corn field. But we are by no means the only neighbors with horses.

loose horses

Caught in the act! These horses happily munching the corn crop belong to the horse guy!

The horse guy, up the hill, has three horses, two of which are the same size and coloring as Joey and Shadow. Having heard hoof clopping late at night, we suspect that he may let his horses loose at night to graze. But again, we can’t prove anything.

He and the chicken feather guy were recently feuding. The chicken feather guy had a goat in with his pigs. The goat was not a happy goat and we could hear it bleating and bleating, probably because it was alone. One day, the goat disappeared. The horse guy accused my father-in-law of stealing the goat. The chicken feather guy went over to where my father-in-law keeps his goats to look for it. Boy, did that make my father-in-law mad. Not finding his goat there, the chicken feather guy scurried off, tail between his legs. If you think a 67-year-old man isn’t scary, you haven’t seen my father-in-law in the throes of righteous indignation with a machete in his hand.

So the suspect in the goat kidnapping fell back on the horse guy, who hotly denied it, of course. In retribution, the chicken feather guy set La Yacata on fire, destroying the grazing area of the horse guy’s horses. So now he lets them free graze.

The chicken feather guy and the horse guy outdo themselves as ladrones (thieves). Just last week, my son was bringing the goats home and came across the chicken feather guy loading various and sundry building material items into the back of his truck from the lot that belongs to the cholo boracho (drunk punk), another neighbor. I think perhaps cholo boracho is in jail at the moment, otherwise, I don’t think the chicken feather guy would have had the guts to steal from him. When he saw my son, he covered his face as if he was suddenly unrecognizable. Feel free to take a moment to roll your eyes here.

The horse guy has been sighted making off with building materials wherever he may find them as well. He has tried to pin the thefts on us, after all, we live full-time in La Yacata, as that were evidence enough or something. For instance, the newest neighbors recently returned from a 20-year stint in el Norte (the US), are constructing a cabaña (cabin) in La Yacata. Every week or so, something goes missing. The horse guy is very vocal about it being us. It isn’t. Having spent so long in the US, the newest neighbors have a fond prejudice for gringos and a belief in their overall honesty. So, as far as I know, they don’t believe us to have sticky fingers, but I could be wrong.

If “Justice in the life and conduct of the State is possible only as first it resides in the hearts and souls of the citizens.” –Plato, and the hearts and souls of La Yacata are representative of all of Mexico it is no wonder that 43 students are still missing, that journalists and activists are murdered, and that the countryside is full of mass graves.

Well, as my husband says “El cantaro da muchos vueltas” (what goes around comes around)

I counter with “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” (Romans 12:19) and Karma is sweet.

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August 28, 2015 · 4:29 pm

Fighting for Flowers

flowering tree

Yesterday afternoon, I turned into the neighborhood where I live and came upon three men with machetes cutting down the flowering trees at the entrance. Without thought, I stopped and demanded to know what they were doing

The leader of the two said he was beautifying the neighborhood since the branches were low hanging and ugly. I asked if he had permission. I meant permission from the owner of the lot who borders the trees, although I suppose the trees were technically in the public thoroughfare. He thought I meant permission from the Departmento de Ecología (Department of ecology) since cutting green trees is a fine-able offense. He said he didn’t need permission to tidy up the place.

So I asked who he was. He said he was the owner of the trees–of course. I told him I didn’t believe him. As I am part of the community board of directors, I know nearly all of the people who own lots in the community. These three men were strangers to me. Not that my neighbors in La Yacata are any better.  (See Good Fences make good neighbors, unless your neighbor steals it) He told me that I should contact the town council and tell them to come and trim the trees in the neighborhood.

My Spanish failed me at this point. I wanted to say eloquently that the town council would not come and trim trees until after they installed water, sewer and electricity in our community. I wanted to say that cutting such beautiful trees is a crime against nature. I wanted to say that he was a lying piece of poop that really had some gall thinking I would believe his altruistic motives for cutting the trees when we both knew he would take and sell the leña (firewood) in town.

tree cutter

What I said was that I would take pictures and show them to the owner when he asks me who cut down his trees. So I did, not that it did much good. One man turned his back to me, the other partially covered his face. I thought maybe I could get some identification from the moto (motorcycle) that was parked there, but it didn’t have any license plates.

I remained on edge the rest of the afternoon and into the next day. I tried to go and see the president of the neighborhood, but he wasn’t in his office. So I sent an email with the pictures and an account of my interaction with the men. He wrote back and said that he would investigate the matter.

My husband scolded me afterward. I shouldn’t be going around taking pictures of men with machetes. What was I thinking?

I have to admit to being impetuous at times. These men were destroying that which I enjoyed every day. The flowers on these trees and the scent they emit are my welcome home. How DARE they destroy that?

You see, that morning the mother of three of my students was shot and killed while heading to the gym. Last week, the father of a former student was kidnaped and is being held for ransom. Last month, someone in front of Waldo’s (a local discount store) was shot “accidentally” by police officers. The month before that two transito (traffic) officers were shot and killed by “unknown” assailants. Not so very long ago, my nephew was taken and tortured by rival drug members. Before that, my mother-in-law was run down by a police vehicle and killed. And before that, my husband was kidnapped right in our own neighborhood.

Those are the local issues. Looking beyond the borders of my own town– Last month, 42 people and one police officer were executed by the police just a few hours away in Michoacan. Last September, 43 students disappeared in Guerrero.  Mexico averages nearly 100 murders a day. In the past three years, more than 10,000 people have disappeared. Last week, a reporter and 4 female activists were tortured and murdered. Femicide is commonplace.

tree stump

And I can do NOTHING about any of these things. This place that I now call home is lawless, corrupt, and dying. The beauty that has existed for thousands of years is threatened by the unethical actions of man.

However, I could threaten the bejeezus out of these three men. Maybe word will get out that a crazy “gringa” (white lady) lives in La Yacata that goes around hugging trees and dancing in the rain–someone these would-be wrongdoers should steer clear of. It’s a small, unrealistic hope. The truth is there is no enforceable consequence for their actions. They know it. I know it. The government knows it. The world knows it. But I have to try.

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July 17, 2015 · 1:35 pm

Failing at your own business–Sharecropping

For the past few years, we have been sharecropping on a neighbor’s hectare (acre). It involves working 2-3 hours daily from the summer planting season in June until the fall harvest in November. (See Forcibly Green)

My husband waits to plant until the middle of June just to ensure the rains would remain steady because we have no way to irrigate the field. It’s a crucial decision in the life of a sharecropper. Plant too early and the corn sprouts wither. Plant too late and frost kills off the crop before harvest. We’ve had mixed results. Some years, there have been bumper crops. Others, the plants are puny and low producing.

barbechando

The first step is barbechando the area to be planted.

The first step is readying the field called barbechando. Fiona was an essential component there, pulling the plow up and over the old corn rows. She does 5-10 rows per day. When the soil is suitably mixed, she starts at the beginning again making rows. Nearly straight is just as good as totally straight. The plants don’t seem to know the difference and grow anyway.

plowing with fiona

Making the rows.

We plant in the tres hermanas (See Planting with the tres hermanas) style. Corn, beans, and squash are planted and tended together. Once the corn has sprouted about knee-high, Fiona takes another swing through the rows. Any maiz coyote (non-ear producing corn) is pulled out, and the regular corn plants in their rows are thinned out, although not aggressively.  Some sections need to be replanted.  Mice and birds really like organic seed corn.

thinning

Thinning out and replanting.

The rainy season ensures that the non-edible plants grow faster than the edible ones. To keep the edible plants from being choked to death, it’s necessary to arrancar (pull out from the roots) the invaders. As soon as the weeding is done through once, it’s time to start back at the beginning again.

working in the field

A nice morning for working in the field.

If the corn starts to yellow, we throw abono (fertilizer) around the roots. This is usually a one-day project, sometimes two if we get a late start on the first day.

As the crops ripen, we enjoy the steady stream of bounty. My husband makes a delicious squash, tomato and onion dish. Corn is boiled in its leaves or roasted over the open flame. Beans can be cooked fresh from the vine or spread out to dry for later.

corn

A day in the fields removing the dried corn ears from the stalks.

Let the planter beware! The drive-by harvesters flock to La Yacata about this time. Unlike crows, mice, and squirrels, the drive-by harvester is not put off by scarecrows or lines of plastic bottles swaying in the wind. We send out extra patrols, dando la vuelta to check the borders of our crops several times a day until all the fresh produce is in.

toros

These drying stacks are called toros.

Once the corn has dried, we cut and stack it in toros (stacks). This is when the sharecropper pays his dues. We had a la tercia (a third) contract For every 3 stacks the field produces, one stack goes to the owner of the hectare. The owner and the sharecropper walk through the stacks together while the owner indicates which stacks he will accept as payment.

bringing it home

Bringing it home.

Once the crop is divided, it’s in the best interest of the sharecropper to remove his stacks as soon as possible, either by having the molinero (shredder) come or just restacking them in another area for further drying. Remember, the concept of ownership is more open here in Mexico. We’ve had entire stacks of drying corn stolen in the night. We could file a police report I suppose, but when have the cops here ever looked out for anyone’s interests but their own?

fiona

Fiona saddled up for an afternoon ride.

This year, my husband decided not to plant. He was so determined not to plant that he sold Fiona. I opposed the sale. Fiona is a good worker. She earns her keep. She is placid and gentle when not working, unlike Joey I also prefer her lady-like steps to Beauty‘s mountainous stride when riding. But he was not to be gainsaid. (See Reducing the herds) and away she went.

moliendo rastrojo

Moliendo rastrojo. Milling the corn stalks for animal fodder.

Even without planting ourselves, we should be able to get enough rastrojo (dry corn stalks without the corn) from neighbors. A 7 x 20 lot size sells for less than $100 pesos. Entire hectares can be purchased after the harvest. We’ve done this before. My husband makes the deal, and when the owner says it’s ready to be picked up, he goes with the truck and brings it back to stack next to our house. When we have enough, he calls in the molinero, and we bag it up for winter feed. Instead of a June-November work season, our gathering work takes about a week in late November.

I am not about to give up on fresh, organic goodness even though we aren’t sharecropping. So this year, I’ve been trying my hand at container gardening. (See Failing at Container Gardening).

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