Tag Archives: Moroleón

The History of Moroleon for Kids ebook

Today is the last day to download FREE The History of Moroleon for Kids by yours truly and the fabulous illustrator Claudia Guzes!

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How much do you really know about Moroleon?

***Why is there a celebration every January 15 in Moroleon?

***Did Moroleon support or resist the Cristeros?

***Which indigenous groups peopled the area?

***When did the first European settlers arrive?

***Why is the main Catholic church called El Templo del Señor de Esquipulitas?

***How did Moroleon get its name?

***Who attacked Moroleon in the early 1900s?

***Why are businesses closed on Thursday afternoons?

Find out the answers to these and more about the history of Moroleon in this book artfully designed with children in mind.

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Las Fiestas en Enero–Jaripeo

feria 2016.jpg

January has come around again, and it’s time for the annual festival in Moroleon. Although the events seldom vary, our own experience with the festival has.

This year, our now 13-year old young man begged and pleaded to go to the fair with his friends rather than with us. Our schedule remains complicated, so he had to wear his school uniform, rather than ‘cool’ clothes, but he said he had fun. The first week was 2 x 1 admission which included unlimited rides and the circus, now with no wild animals performances. They did add the log flume to the ride repertoire, although getting drenched in frigid January temperatures isn’t ideal.

william at the fair

At the fair

I’ve decided that I’m too old for amusement park rides–my equilibrium isn’t what it used to be. My husband has an extremely weak stomach and never was a big fan of rides. So he and I decided we’d enjoy the festivities by going to a jaripeo (rodeo) instead.

When we found out that the jaripeo would be in the Lienzo Charro Nuevo, which was specifically dedicated to el Sr. de Escapulitas, and had free admission–there was nothing more to do but march our little fannies across the road from La Yacata and attend.

Our son decided that he wasn’t interested in attending, so just my husband and I set out.

Even though the rodeo was less than a five-minute walk from our house, my husband insisted we take the truck. Apparently, walking to such events is just not done. Sure enough, we saw several of our neighbors with their trucks there.

My husband clarified that this was not a jaripeo, even though that’s how it was announced, but a charreada–a skills presentation rather than real rodeo, but I didn’t care. The nearest I can figure is a true jaripeo is fairly dangerous to bull, horse, rider, and audience and may result in the death of any of the aforementioned participants. Whereas a charreada seldom results in death, although injuries, sometimes severe, do occur.

The charreada became popular when there were haciendas in Mexico, adapted from traditions brought from Spain in the 16th century. Originally, the charreada was a competition between the families of neighboring haciendas. The charreada is made up of 9 events for men and one event for women, all involving horses and cattle.

I had some mixed feelings watching the charreada. I enjoyed watching the horsemanship and rope tricks. However, I felt sorry for the undernourished yeguas (mares) that were roped and tripped and harassed. Most seemed to be about the same age as our Joey, but so thin and small, with large patches of hair missing from their hindquarters. I asked my husband what happens if one of the horses is injured in the fall. Sadly, they are fed to the lions. Yes, Moroleon has lions at the local zoo. Unmanageable, sick, unwanted, injured horses and donkeys are bought and served up fresh to the small lion pack at Los Areas Verdes.

Partying in honor of Las Fiestas de Enero continued on until the wee hours of the morning on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. We opted to steer clear of that again this year. It’s cold, noisy, smelly and just not a whole lot of fun for us old fogies. The fair is here 2 full weeks and events such as the jaripeos are randomly interspersed in between. The “trastes”(dishes) stand also comes to town but no longer sets up with the circus. It rents an open area near Soriana for their tents now, probably cheaper. Dishes, glasses, pots, pans, cooking utensils, dish towels and the like can be found there. They aren’t less expensive than the regular stores, but there is more of a selection.

I have a special treat for those of you from Moroleon. My friend Claudia and I worked up a little book for children that highlights some of the more interesting historical tidbits about Moroleon.

portada 2The History of Moroleon for Kids (Kindle)

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Just another weekend adventure

It's a good idea to keep one of these in your wallet when driving in Mexico.

It’s a good idea to keep one of these in your wallet when driving in Mexico.

Saturday started out rainy, which never bodes well. The amount of rain that falls is proportionately related to the number of classes I have.(See Failing at your own business–Saturday classes) Sure enough, I had only half my classes show. Well, I put my time to good use on other projects for the school until the rain let up and my son and I raced home on the moto before the next storm hit.

My husband arrived shortly thereafter for lunch. As it was clouding up again, he thought it best to take one of the vehicles back for his afternoon shift at the viniteria (liquor store) instead of his moto. Butch, the truck, had a slow leak in the back tire. He loaded the tire into Myrtle (See Placando Myrtle) to have it repaired in town before his shift. Then Myrtle, the VW bug, wouldn’t start. So he and I pushed her out of the garage, only to discover the back tire was flat. There was nothing to be done but put some air into the tire with the bicycle pump. That finished, Myrtle still wouldn’t start. We gave her a running push down the hill and nothing. My husband opted to take the battery out of Butch and connect it up, hoping that Myrtle’s battery would charge with the drive. We think maybe there’s a loose wire someplace but didn’t have time to run a full diagnostic during lunch break.

Joey posing for the camera!

Joey posing for the camera!

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly enough, except for an incident with Joey. (See Joey) Joey, as the biggest male in our animal kingdom, fully believes he is the head mucky-muck around here. Joey’s dad lives across the way in my brother-in-law’s B partially finished house but is seldom out and about. Joey’s dad is a full-fledged, ornery stallion. His bad-tempered self happened to be tied out near our house for an afternoon grazing session. Not thinking much about it, my son took out Shadow and Joey for their dinner grazing. B hollered over and told my son to take them back in until he got his horse back in his stall. Shadow obediently trotted back inside. Joey didn’t. He sniffed the air, snorted and was off, rearing and neighing. Of course, Joey’s dad didn’t take kindly to the upstart challenger. There was a lot of horse screaming, bucking and running about for the next 10 minutes or so. Joey’s dad was tied, so Joey felt brave enough to get right up next to him and throw some shadow kicks. My son and B had the lasso out and were trying to catch Joey before Joey’s dad broke his rope and caused some real damage. Throughout it all, Shadow was carrying on in the stall, eyes rolling in her head. All of a sudden, Joey gave up the fight. He ran right through the neighbor’s corn field and back to his stall. Joey’s dad snorted and huffed, then went back to his dinner. Of course, we waited until the coast was clear before taking our two horses out again.

While my son was out with the goats and horses, I cooked dinner. I wasn’t expecting my husband until about 11 pm but I didn’t want to be cooking at that hour, so I made his favorite cacapapa (fried potatoes, garlic, onion, and tomato) so I could just heat it when he got home. Well, 11 pm came and went. Midnight came and went. By 12:30 am I was starting to get worried. I tried calling his cell phone, but he didn’t answer. I dozed a bit, woke up to find that he still wasn’t home, and called his phone again. The next morning, he still wasn’t home. I called his phone at least 30 times during the course of the day.

We checked with my father-in-law, who went to town on his bicycle to see if he could find out anything. We drove around between torrential rain showers, checking his regular route and hang out places and found no trace of him or Myrtle. By mid-afternoon, we were pretty sure he was dead in a ditch somewhere. I started worrying about how to get the truck out of the garage for the wake since the back tire was in the back seat of Myrtle. (See Mass and burial Mexican style) My son and I talked about which animals to sell to cover the funeral expenses. Joey, after his little stunt, was at the top of the list. Then I started to worry that nobody would inform us of his death. None of his documentation in his wallet has La Yacata since the community doesn’t have any street names. Neither is Myrtle registered at our home address, for the same reason. (See Getting Legal–License to Drive)

My father-in-law came by to say that none of my husband’s buddies had seen him since yesterday. He also told us that my husband’s nephew L, who had only been out of jail for a few weeks (See More thoughts on Safety and Security) had been in a serious moto accident on Saturday and was in the hospital. The passenger was in a coma. Due to the nature of the laws here in Mexico, should the passenger die, L will be charged with homicide (See And Justice for all?) Since he had been to the hospital, he was able to confirm that my husband had not been taken there. He suggested we contact the police. I told him that if he had been arrested, surely he would have been allowed to call to let us know where he was. Unfortunately, there isn’t a one phone call rule here in Mexico, but I didn’t know that at the time.

I sent messages to my sisters-in-law T and P. T hadn’t seen him. P didn’t answer. A little while later, T called to say that a muchacho (young man) had just been to see her to tell her that my husband was in the jail in Uriangato, the neighboring town. I didn’t even know Uriangato had a jail. T didn’t know where the jail was, nor had transportation to go and get him out. B, who is currently living with his sister T, knew where the jail was and had transportation but wasn’t interested in doing anything about getting his brother out of jail. My son and I went up the hill when the rain let up to see what my father-in-law had to say. He’s always full of good advice. He didn’t know where the jail was either, but his son C, who was visiting, did. I couldn’t follow his directions, but understood it was just minutes from where P had moved to recently. So I called P. From the noise in the background, it seemed like she was at the hospital. She sent her brother M and her sister L on the moto to check the jail and called me back. Yes, my husband was there (which I already knew) and that the fine was 200 pesos, which nobody was willing to pay. In any case, he could only be held 24 hours and as he had already been there more than half, he’d be released soon. I had the money to get him out, but I still had no idea where the jail was and no one was willing to take me.

About an hour later, my husband himself called me. He said that he had just been released from jail and was walking home. I told him to take a taxi home. He said he didn’t have any money. I told him that I would pay the taxi when it arrived. So 30 minutes later, he was home. The taxi ride was $70 pesos.

Here’s what happened. My husband got off work at about 11 pm. Myrtle’s tire was low again, so he started towards the gas station a few blocks away to put air in it. The car stopped. The battery was dead again. It wouldn’t start, so he tried pushing it. As he was doing that, a police car came up and asked what he was doing. They checked the car out, saw the truck battery in the back seat, arrested him and had the car towed to the police station. Apparently, someone had reported a truck battery stolen or so they said. Sounds like the time my husband was arrested when getting a load of water because someone reported a stereo stolen in Ojo de Aqua en Media (See Christmas in Mexico–La Aguinaldo)

While waiting for the judge to hear his case, he was put in the holding cell with 4 other hardened criminals. Three of the four were from Cuitzeo and had been arrested for changing their clothes. Yep, you read that right. Most of the manual labor workforce and domestic servants in Moroleon are from Cuitzeo, a small town just across the Michoacan border. They have the curious custom of changing clothes. They take the bus to Moroleon, walk to their job sites from the bus terminal, change their regular clothes to work clothes, work their shift and at the conclusion of their shift, change back into their regular clothes to take the bus back to Cuitzeo. That’s what these three men had been doing. It seems the walls of their job site weren’t finished yet, so their changing could be seen from the street. They were seen, arrested, and charged them with indecent exposure.

The fourth delinquent was the young man who runs the papeleria (stationary store). He had been arrested because his music was too loud. You know those paper store types, always causing a ruckus. Once he paid bail, he stopped by T’s house to let her know where my husband was.

Meanwhile, one of the three from Cuitzeo paid my husband’s bail of $341 pesos, a bit more than the 200 quoted to M and L. He told my husband to pay it forward. When he went for the return of his personal items, the $400 pesos formerly in my husband’s wallet was nowhere to be found. So the judge gave him 10 pesos to take the bus back to Moroleon. Unfortunately, by now, it was late Sunday afternoon and the buses weren’t running anymore. Thus the $70 pesos taxi ride.

On Monday morning, my husband took the car title and my identification, because Myrtle is registered in my name, back to the police station to get the car. In order to regain possession of the car, he had to pay the police grua (towtruck). That bill was $850 pesos. He borrowed a battery from el plomero neighbor and brought Myrtle home. Since the money was gone, there is the very real concern about his debit card. On Tuesday, he went to the bank to see what could be done since his card number has been stolen once already. That time we did not have to pay for the resulting mystery shopping spree because we had informed the bank and changed the card prior to the date the charges were made. So far, no strange charges have been credited to our account.

I have to say that I am mighty impressed with the local police force. They certainly know how to clean the riff-raff off the street and keep its citizens safe. I mean, just last month alone….the mother of three of my students was gunned down on her way to the gym at 9 am….oh wait, no one was arrested. And just after that, the father of two other students was stabbed and his taxi stolen…but no, no one was arrested in that case either. And before that, the father of another student was kidnapped, his dismembered body returned to his family even after the ransom was paid…yet again, no one was arrested. However, committing the heinous crime of having two batteries in your vehicle or changing out of your work clothes or playing your music just a bit too loud, well, the police all over that. Thank God!

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More thoughts on Safety and Security

Last week my husband’s nephew L. was kidnapped and tortured. He was taken from the street along with his mother’s moto and held just a few blocks from his aunt’s house. He was stabbed twice in the back and had his ear nearly cut off with a machete. He escaped after 3 days of torture, naked and handcuffed. He was picked up and taken to the hospital where he was stitched up. Three of the four sequestradores (kidnappers) were arrested according to police. His mother sent L. into hiding.  He has just turned 20.

Is this boy evil enough to be tortured?

Is this boy evil enough to be tortured?

Being the mother of a son, this incident awoke a deep-seated fear in me, albeit my son is only 12 and a good boy. But you see, when I met L.,he himself he was 12 and a good boy too. So as parents, my husband and I began rationalizing away our fears. L. must have done something to deserve this treatment. Therefore, it was karma, justice, etc. And as our son hasn’t done anything so bad that he would be kidnapped and tortured, he would be ok.

We had some rationale for our thoughts.  This isn’t the first time L. has been involved in a violent attack. A few years back, his liver was damaged during the 13-second initiation beating rite of Sur 13. (See On Safety and Security) Then his mother’s boyfriend did a stint in jail for possession not so very long ago. (See Failing at your own business–Taxi Service) Part of his gang membership obligations included selling pot. He also used pot to cope with the constant pain he still has from his injuries. Is that enough to deserve torture? It hardly seems so.

If it wasn’t hedid, perhaps it was who he was involved with. As a street pot distributor, he would know who brought the drugs into town. Three days after L. escaped, two suspected drug distributors were murdered in Moroleón, one of them a transito (traffic cop).

You won’t find much of this information in the local newspaper, although other newspapers in Guanajuato have picked up on some of the assassinations and have reported on them or rather reported the gory details after the bodies have been found. But as Moroleón is a small town, no matter how much it wants to believe it is a city, the information spreads, although in whispers now.

The story being told is that someone turned traitor against those who previously were in “charge” of Moroleón and have been given permission by los estados (State Police) to eliminate those still remaining with the understanding that future control will be given to this person. These bodies that are “found” are executions. No one is ever arrested. No one is brought to justice.

Aliada al cártel de Sinaloa, La Familia domina Guanajuato

Ejecutan a 5 personas en Moroleón

Una menor de 16 años entre los ejecutados en Moroleón

Balacera en Moroleón; al parecer hay cuatro muertos November

Lo ejecutan amarrado de pies y manos

Ejecución múltiple; hallan a cinco sin vida

Ejecutan a hombre en Moroleón

The body count has become so high, that the powers prohibited the local radio station to announce “fallecidos” for a time, which is how most friends and family members learn the day and time for the funeral and novena. (See La novena)  I expect their reasoning is, see no evil, speak no evil, and hear no evil.

So as parents of a pre-teen boy, we hope that the executions end soon. We increase our vigilance over our son, although he resents the restrictions. We look for talismans to hold out as wards against evil. Be home before dark. Come straight to where your dad is working from school. Don’t visit L. Bring your friends to our house rather than going to their houses. Will it be enough?

students

My son is not involved in gangs or drugs, but that wasn’t protection enough for the students in Iguala. And we already know that there is no justice to be found in México. (See On Life and Liberty) (See Justice for All) What more can we do?

Así fueron los últimos momentos de los estudiantes desaparecidos en México

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