Eric and Rachel on thu 16 sep 04
The Road to Cocucho
Dear potters, the tales from Michoacan continue! The day after=20
we'd sat around and heard flaming tales of kiln firing Barbara and I headed=
=20
to a potters=92 village where they don't use kilns at all=85
Barbara and I drove out to the village of Cocucho, climbing the=20
curves over pine covered hills dotted with broad fields of tall grass. The=
=20
road was new and smooth. Such a road does not even exist back home in=20
Oaxaca, yet here in Michoacan they are almost commonplace. Why the=20
difference, I do not know? But we made quick time, for which I was glad.=20
Though no longer the case, this road was once a fine place to meet highway=
=20
bandits. That was a while back, before the pavement when this 20-minute=20
trip took 2 hours. However their spirits still linger on the curves, or at=
=20
least in the curves of my imagination.
Cocucho, a boldly traditional Purepecha village, sits high on a=20
slope, snuggling into the hilltop pines. The village overlooks a vast,=20
gentle slope that drops into a plain far below which is covered with that=20
tall grass and cornfields. The village is dotted with trojes, ornate=20
indigenous log cabins. They are small with steep, wood shake roofs, front=20
porches and stout porch posts carved with flowers and designs. Under the=20
shake eves are tied up bunches of dried corn; yellow, red and blue, with=20
the husk attached but peeled back. Seed corn for next year=92s crop. Peeking=
=20
inside a house you see dark wood walls, cups hanging in rows from the=20
ceiling (above which, in the attic, is stored the rest of the corn), plates=
=20
artfully placed on narrow shelves against the wall, colorful cut paper=20
decorations hanging like flags across the room, a table and a bed.
On the porch of the family we went to visit stood 7 stout clay=20
urns stained dark with atole, or liquid cornstarch, and three stout women,=
=20
corn fed and stained dark by pure Purepecha blood and work in the sun. Mama=
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Lorenza and her two grown daughters, Antonia and Angelina. They each wore=20
velvet blouses, pleated skirts and waist aprons with multiple wraps of blue=
=20
and red beaded necklaces tight around thick necks and large, heavy, silver=
=20
earrings in the form of hanging crescents that pulled their earlobes down.
Unlike the other villages Barbara and I had visited, Cocucho=92s pottery=20
showed no Spanish influence. These enormous pots, some four feet tall,=20
where coil built from the ground up and surface fired one at time in=20
bonfires. The potters here pulled the pots out of the fire smoldering hot=20
and brushed then with cornstarch which burned into the porous surface of=20
the pot and gave it a seriously freckled look, an ancient mottling. Old=20
school potters at their finest. I tried to lift one of the bigger pots and=
=20
could barely budge it. The walls were an inch thick top to bottom. The=20
women carried them on their backs.
But in Cocucho I found myself to be more interested in the potters=
=20
than the pots. Well, that is often the case if the truth must be known.=20
Often I think I wander on the trail of Mexican pottery because it gives me=
=20
the excuse to sit on porches and swap tales with these very earthy, solid=20
people.
Which is just what we did in Cocucho. We sat chatting back and=20
forth about their pottery and the village in Spanish. They told us that=20
the pottery wasn't even sold locally anymore. It all went away in the hands=
=20
of buyers to urban markets in Guadalajara, Mexico City and beyond. I could=
=20
certainly vouch for this as a former pottery exporter. The Cocucho pottery=
=20
was sold far and wide in the US by wholesalers and had become very popular.=
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They said the pots used to be for storing water, corn, cooking tamales and=
=20
so on, but no one was using them that way anymore (I guess no one didn't=20
include them because they had an enormous jug in the yard full of water).
Then they started speaking to each other, clarifying some point=20
about the way the pots used to be used, and switched from Spanish to=20
Purepecha. The tone of their voices changed entirely. Their voices went=20
deep, coming from below those tight blue necklaces, from the depths of=20
their chests in powerful bursts. Their voices vibrated in the ground below=
=20
my feet and seemed to have a physical presence as they poured their words=20
back and forth to each other like clouds of dense, warm, brown smoke. I=20
suddenly felt like I was seated in the court of the powerful leaders of an=
=20
ancient matriarchal clan and sat in awe of the power these women exuded.=20
Was this just this family, or did all the women in this village speak so=20
forcefully, so surely, in Purepecha? Then they switched back to Spanish to=
=20
speak to us and their voices came up a couple of octaves and went soft. I=20
wished I could speak Purepecha just to take part in the power of their=20
conversation, though at the same time I sensed I'd be squished like a=20
cockroach by the density of their voices.
As it was, no bugs were squished that day and we enjoyed ourselves=
=20
sitting around on the porch of the cabin talking about clay and corn. Soon=
=20
enough though Barbara and I had to go. Everyone I had spoken with agreed=20
that the road to Cocucho was entirely bandit free=85in the daylight. As=20
darkness was getting too close for comfort, I pushed for leaving and we=20
said our farewells. In the curves of my imagination I was redrawing the=20
roadside bandits from men with red bandanas and broad hats to large women=20
in silk blouses with hefty earrings. One has to pay for those silver=20
earrings somehow. They didn't use guns or machetes, they just stood in the=
=20
middle of the road and demanded, in locomotive horn Purepecha that you give=
=20
up all your valuables. There would be no arguing.
As it was, we made it to the other side without incident. And perhaps=20
darkness wasn't as imminent as I had thought, for we were home by 4pm.=20
Still, better safe than sorry, no?
atentamente, Eric Mindling
Want to brave meeting these Cocucho potters yourself? Join us in January=20
for the Michoacan Clay Adventure, Tour and Workshop. See=20
www.traditionsmexico.com for details.
Please note our new address- traditionsmexico@yahoo.com
Rachel Werling, Botanist
Eric Mindling, Tourist
Oaxaca, Mexico
Traditions Mexico Hands-On Tours
www.manos-de-oaxaca.com
www.traditionsmexico.com
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