Tierra de Tortugas

BOOK REVIEWS

NOTABLE BOOKS ABOUT MEXICO

STONES FOR IBARRA (1984)
by Harriet Doerr

CONSIDER THIS SEñORA (1993)
by Harriet Doerr

Doerr clearly spent much of her early years in Mexico and she wrote these two remarkable books late in life. Her writing is clear and uncluttered, rich yet spare, and her economy of word is often startlingly on target. Her descriptions of mid 1950s to mid 1960s Mexican village life bring the people fully alive – their feelings, their backgrounds, their hopes, their fears, their contradictions. “Stones for Ibarra” was once made into a passable, if terribly simplistic, TV movie. These books are far better and far more intelligent than the movie. —PRW

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QUATRO NOVELAS de la REVOLUCIÓN:
(Excerpted and paraphrased from a review by Javier Munguía in the Sunday, November 14, 2004 edition of “El Imparcial,” from Hermosillo, Sonora.

LOS DE ABAJO (1916)
(The Underdogs)
by Mariano Azuela

This is perhaps the most celebrated novel of the Mexican Revolution. Serialized a year before publication as a book, by 1925 Azuela’s seminal work was rediscovered as an important critique of conditions before the Revolution. While he denounced the poverty and persecution that drove thousands to engage in armed struggle, he also denounced the rape and opportunism of many of the revolutionaries, and the violence committed in the name of ideals that, in many cases, the fighters themselves did not comprehend. (Available in English.) . —PRW

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LA SOMBRA DEL CAUDILLO (1929)
(The Shadow of the Caudillo, or Military Leader)
by Martín Luis Guzmán

Guzmán denounces the ‘institutionalization’ of the Revolution. The figure of the Caudillo (Alvaro Obregón, although his name is never mentioned) appears as an omniscient entity who resorts to violence and assasination against those who refuse to obey his mandates. He becomes, paradoxically, equally as or more tyranical than the dictator originally deposed by the Revolution: Porfirio Diaz. . —PRW

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CARTUCHO (1931)
(Cartridge)
by Nellie Campobello

While “Cartucho” consists of a series of reports on the struggle in northern Mexico, concentrated in Chihuahua, it can also be read as a novel. We see the tenderness, the solidarity, the filial bonding demonstrated by the revolutionaries amidst the horrors of the war, all through the eyes of a little girl. (Available in English.) . —PRW

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DESBANDADA (1933)
(Disbandment, also Confusion, Disorder)
by José Rubén Romero

This novel presents a disenchanted view of the Revolution. It contains ‘vignettes’ of distinct locations in the town of Tacámbaro, presented through the voice of one of the few educated inhabitants whose life was altered by the arrival of the armed struggle. . —PRW

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Other important works related to the Revolution:

LA MUERTE DE ARTEMIO CRUZ (1962)
(The Death of Artemio Cruz)
by Carlos Fuentes

Notes translated from the book cover: “On his death bed, Artemio Cruz remembers when he fought in the Mexican Revolution and how afterwards he lost his ideals, along with the only woman he ever loved. Married to the daughter of a landowner, he utilized family political connections to amass an immense fortune. Foul-mouthed, audacious, corrupt, opportunistic, Artemio Cruz represents the paradoxes of recent Mexican history.” (Available in English.) . —PRW

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THE LIFE AND TIMES OF PANCHO VILLA
by Frederick Katz

Everything you ever wanted to know about the compelling life of Pancho Villa (ne: Doroteo Arango) and his important role in the Revolution is included in this 800-page (!) book with extensive footnotes. Though long, it’s a fascinating tale that resembles the great myths. Humble beginnings, famous triumphs, catastrophic defeats, unbelievable recovery – all the elements of greatness and fatal flaw are there in this Napoleonic character. Villa demanded absolute loyalty from his followers, dealt harshly with those he felt betrayed him, and never really seemed to grasp the idealistic principles of the Revolution. Perhaps that’s one reason there are at least 29 villages in Mexico named after Emiliano Zapata, who was a true revolutionary, and only one (in the dusty, dry NW corner of the State of Chihuahua) named after Pancho Villa. (Chosen as a “New York Times” Notable Book in 1999. Available in English.). —PRW

How’d We Get Here Anyway?

Kino Bay, Sonora, Mexico

Perry and Carolyn retired in the Spring of 2004. Some dear friends helped us load everything we owned (about 60 boxes of books, three sailboards, household goods and tools, and very little furniture) into a U-Haul truck. It was so neatly packed that it was an impresssive sight to behold.

Then we all went to a local watering hole for afternoon nachos and drinks. Afterward, we thanked our friends and hugged them profusely for a long day of hard work shoe-horning everything into the truck. We said our goodbyes in the parking lot of the restaurant.

We were ready to leave in the morning, headed to a storage unit in Green Valley, Arizona that we’d rented over the phone. Then Perry noticed the tires on the truck seemed to be bulging ominously. A sign in bold letters beside the door read, “Maximum Weight: 11,000 lbs.” That surely sounded like more than enough for what little we owned. But still...

In the late afternoon, we drove to the closest truck stop to find a scale big enough to weigh the truck so we’d have peace of mind on our long road trip. It was another unnecessary thing we didn’t need to worry about. We paid $8 to the cashier, and drove onto the scale. When we went back to retrieve our weight slip, it read 16,000 lbs!

We were more than a bit shocked, and drove carefully back to the U-Haul place to rent a bigger truck. But all theirs were gone. After several phone calls we found one across town and gave them our credit card info. We left the truck at our now-empty house and drove our car over to get the new truck. I drove while Carolyn made phone calls to arrange with a moving company to cart everything out of one truck, and into the other. They could do it, but they had another moving job first thing in the morning and weren’t sure when they’d arrive. We’d meet them in front of the home of some other friends who had a long lot and a very long curb. We’d back the trucks up to each other to make it as easy as possible. Carolyn spent the day with last minute details and I waited with the trucks until the crew arrived in the early afternoon.

They were three of the biggest Native American guys I’ve ever seen and they were already exhausted from the earlier job, that included moving a grand piano (really!). I couldn’t help but think of that classic Laurel and Hardy movie, although these guys looked a lot more competent. I primed them with ice-cold Cokes to get their energy levels back up, and they started the long process of loading the new, and much larger, truck – which ended up looking only about half full, but drove a lot better.

We paid the movers $300 for an afternoon of heavy work, and later, when I dropped off the first truck, I signed a credit card slip for about $175 for the priviledge of storing everything in the truck overnight. We were almost $500 poorer but now we had a truck that could carry the load safely. We figured we’ll eventually share this story with the friends who helped us load up in the first place, but not just yet. Maybe someday, when it’s funny.

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We arrived in Green Valley (about 20 miles south of Tucson) after a couple of days on the road and we hired an outfit called the “Packrats” to unpack the truck. Then it was off to our new (if somewhat old) house on the beach in Bahia de Kino, Sonora, Mexico. We had packed the van with the things we’d need when we arrived in Kino in June. The winter clothes could wait for a while.
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Temperatures in Kino were consistently in the high 90s each day, with a wet breeze blowing in from the Sea in the afternoon, and we had no electricity. Any kind of artificial cooling was not an option. We wore shorts and t-shirts and went barefoot to stay cool as a hot steady breeze blew through the house and moisture collected on the tattered screens to run in rivulets to the floor. We’d take long walks along the beach in the crisp morning light. And each day, in the late afternoon, we’d dive into the Sea of Cortez just outside our door to wash the sweat off, followed by a cold shower before dinner. We’d linger in the warm waters of this fertile Sea, transfixed while the setting sun painted glorious colors across the sky as it dropped below the jagged horizon of Isla Tiburón. At night, we’d toss our cushions and bedroll on the floor in front of the door, spritz ourselves from a spray water bottle, and sleep to the sound of the ocean right at our feet – or so it seemed.

Life was good in a simple and carefree, ‘sandrat,’ beachcomber kind of way.

The house was part of an estate. It had been mostly unoccupied for a decade and poorly maintained longer than that – a recipe for problems in a saltwater environment. We’d seen the house only briefly, six months ago on a visit when we found that it was available. The utility of the house itself was questionable. It needed to be completely rewired. Badly deteriorated insulation hung from heavily corroded lines leading to the nearest power pole. The coolers had been corroded beyond usability by the salt air. There were leaks in the carport’s concrete roof and large chunks of plaster had fallen to the floor. And there were serious structural problems with most of the concrete columns and beams along the sea porch. But the estate would sell it for the price of the land. It seemed like just our kind of place, and we called the lawyer from a pay phone on the street.

We knew the house was only marginally livable when we bought it, so we tried to arrive as prepared as possible. We’d figure the rest out after we got there. We carted the cooler and the camp stove into the house, Carolyn dug out the candles we’d bought in Hermosillo, and we set up housekeeping. We’d be ‘camping out’ inside until we got reconnected to the power grid.

Since we’re not wealthy enough to afford another house (or two, or three) elsewhere, this would be our only home (not counting an REI puptent we keep in our old van). To our eyes, this simple, neglected concrete house was the essence of beauty. The toilet flushed, more or less, and the roof didn’t leak all that much, so we weren’t really roughing out – in the strictest sense of the phrase. And being right on the beach at an affordable price didn’t hurt, either. We’d happily make do with what we had. This next adventure in our lives would be a ‘romantic interlude.’ It’s amazing what you’ll put up with if you just phase it right.

There was much to do. Our days were soon filled with activity: arranging for Victor the electrician to work us into his very busy schedule (can you find the fingernail moon in this picture?), for Gordo the welder to fix the ‘reja’ (the large rolling front gate), for Fernando the door man to get our old, corroded sliding glass doors to work and to repair our screens to keep some of the bugs out. We’d sort out the water heater later, but it wasn’t an issue in the heat of summer.

Eventually we got the house in livable order. Victor installed a higher quality copper supply line and untangled the other wires leading to our house. To our surprise, the very old Admiral refrigerator worked just fine, and so did the old Frigidaire electric stove. And now we even had lights at night (instead of candles), and fans to help move the hot air around a bit. Gordo, an impish grin upon his face, got the reja working. And Fernando made the doors glide as they had when they were new.

We reveled in the luxury of simple gifts.

Now we had a little time to relax, except for long days spent drawing plans to incorporate our latest ideas for remodeling the house – an ongoing process that will continue until concrete is poured for the new footings.

It was time to attend the annual gathering of the “Summer Survivors.” Most of the ‘gringo’ community (maybe the sensible contingent) leaves Kino by June to escape the building heat. The hard core holdouts have a party to make light of the blistering heat of the coming summer – kind of like whistling past the graveyard.

The local Mexican community, by contrast, heads for the beach in large numbers starting with the Easter weekend, one of the biggest holidays of the year. They look forward to summer at the beach to cool off from the heat of Hermosillo, Nogales, and other inland towns. The shore is dotted with encampments, and whole families spend the entire day in the water, followed by laughing and singing around a campfire late into the evening.

The local joke goes like this:
“Where are you staying at the beach this weekend?”
“At the Hotel ‘Camarena (Hotel ‘Sandbed’)!’”

We were there only for the beginning of the summer season, then it was time to leave on a 12,000 mile odyssey across most of the eastern US and up into Canada.

But that’s another story... — PRW

We Blog!

It's time to start telling stories from Bahia de Kino -- sunny Kino Bay, on the Sea of Cortez in Sonora, Mexico. With this "blog," we enter a new area of communications -- for us! We look forward to sharing our experience here, keeping friends and family informed of goings on, the progress on our house project, and the many things we are learning and experiencing. Both of us are writing randomly about all sorts of things. You may get a poem, a treatise on the state of world affairs, detailed directions for getting to our portion of the beach, or even a recipe (we just had a lesson in making flan!). We'll post photos, as each of us has a digital camera. Look for lots of stunning sunsets!

Since this technology is totally new to us, we may start out slow, but then we'll probably overwhelm you. Most of all, we hope it will give you a chuckle from time to time and inspire you to come see us on the lovely Mar de Cortez (Sea of Cortez).

Abrazos, y ¡vamos!
Perry and Carolyn

BOOKSTORE

I ALWAYS MEANT TO TELL YOU
by Perry Robert Wilkes

Perry wrote this book after the death of his brother Steve, sister-in-law Janette, and nephew Eliot in a plane crash in northern Alaska. It was written in Bahía de Kino (Kino Bay), Sonora, Mexico over several years and serves also as an homage to the people and the place that is "Kino." The book is filled with rich descriptions of the Sonoran coast and the daily life one encounters in walks along the shore of the Sea of Cortez.

An excerpt from the book:
"The surf was gentle again this morning, Steve, as it was two years ago when you and the family were here. A very gentle surf, maybe six inches high, greeted us each morning as the sun rose. Surf that a baby could play in. Surf that gently nudged beautiful shells ashore at night as if shyly courting the land, leaving morning presents at her door."

What readers say:
"…a joy to read…" — Mary Cohen
"…really writing from the heart…" — Betsy James
"…a real act of love. I like to think that your brother is reading it too – out there somewhere, somehow." — Charles Exley
"It brought me lots of tears and lalughter." — Mary Ann Anderson
"…I really enjoyed and was moved by your book." — John Kaplan

U.S. price: $19.95 plus $3.00 postage & handling.

Please send check to:
Liberación Press
PO Box 6460
Nogales, AZ 85628
(allow 6 weeks or so for delivery)

The price in Bahía de Kino: 200 pesos, which includes delivery by bicycle. Call 242-01-22 in Kino.

Also available in the following libraries:
Club Deportivo, Bahía de Kino, Sonora, Mexico
Biblioteca Publica, Bahia de Kino, Sonora, Mexico
University of New Mexico Zimmerman Library, Albuquerque, New Mexico
Main Library, Albuquerque, New Mexico
Albuquerque Geneology Library, Albuquerque, New Mexico
Alameda Elementary School Library, Albuquerque, New Mexico
Tipp City Public Library, Tipp City, Ohio
Eugene Sheddon Farley Library, Wilkes University, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania

On sale at the following bookstores in Albuquerque, New Mexico:
BookWorks
Bound to Be Read
Page One
University of New Mexico Bookstore

Día de la Revolución

Kino Bay, Sonora, Mexico

Today in Mexico is a holiday – Día de la Revolución (Revolution Day), commemorating the Revolution of 1910. The Revolution began with the ouster of the dictator Porfirio Diaz and lasted for ten bloody years in which the nation lost 10% of its population. This is one of many important national holidays, and it is celebrated in the little village of Bahía de Kino Viejo (Old Kino) with a parade and performances in the parque central. All the school children come out, either in school uniforms or costumes representing various aspects of the revolution. There are the oligarchs in their finery, bandidos and brave revolutionary soldiers, Federales, and indigenous people. Kindergarteners in elaborate costume dance to “Guadalajara” and “La Bamba.” Community dignitaries sit at a table of honor and review the performances, then make their speeches while hordes of people stand in long lines to buy steaming tacos from stands spilling smoke and the delicious aroma of roasting meat and chile. It seemed as if the entire town came out to celebrate the Revolution that formed modern Mexico.

Perry and I followed the parade through the streets, then tried out the tacos (delicious!) while watching the staged show. And we were greeted by people we now know from our day-to-day dealings here – from shops and restaurants and English classes taught by a friend where we’ve begun to help out with conversation practice. Little by little we learn and are absorbed into the culture, and we feel great gratitude to be embraced by these warm and generous people. You will know what I mean when you come and experience it yourselves! – CK

The House

Kino Bay, Sonora, Mexico

It’s beautiful, sunny, and about 75° here today. The Sea of Cortez is calm, with a gentle breeze. Perry captured this shot of a Hobie Cat sailing by from his work corner in the bedroom – just one example of what enchants us here.

Thought I would take time to tell a little about the old house we bought and are just about to begin renovating.

The house was built in the 1970s, and it does look it! It’s built of concrete, of course; everything here is built of concrete, for a number of reasons: hurricanes, termites, and limited forest resources, to name a few. And Mexican builders are masters of concrete construction. This house is solid, even after 30 years and at least one major hurricane in 1993 that took out all the glass windows and doors but didn’t affect the structure.

When we arrived, we found piles of furniture; clothing still in the closets, old copies of Sunset Magazine from the ‘70s; a profusion of orange, avocado, and yellow paint, fixtures, and appliances; and the musty accumulation of some ten years that it had been mostly uninhabited. It took us over a week to clean it out. We donated two truckloads of things to the catholic church for a yard sale that will help people in the local community; and in the process, we found some surprising treasures: beautiful Tonalá pottery, an almost full set of Mexican blue glass tableware, and a few pieces of furniture worth refinishing and keeping.

The pictures in the “Our Old House” photo album will give you a little taste of what greeted us. As we begin the process of remodeling and adding on, we’ll use this weblog to keep you up to date.

So far, Perry has drawn at least a dozen variations of plans; and we may be getting close to something final – which would be good, as building on a new sea wall is supposed to begin around November 24. Then again, things just take time here! And the redesigning/redrawing was made necessary by our growing awareness of local requirements and codes. As a result, however, we should have a truly great place here on this piece of beach on which we feel so fortunate to find ourselves! -- CK