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Another ViewPoint by JimViers .... Salvatierra Mexico .... Feb 5, 2001
As I gaze from the window I see the lights of the city that pan out over the valley that lays below men the city lights together with the lights of the small villages that dot the mountain sides, give one the illusion of looking into the heavens which is filled with stars. The night is brightened by the full moon which enables the navigating of the volcanic rock strewn paths that lead to the humble concrete houses where all are asleep resting for the beginning of another work filled day. The brightness of the moon is only occasionally obscured by a gently floating cloud that soon passes on its heavenly journey. Off in the distance - an ancient volcano, long extinct - can be seen, A mountain thousands of feet high has been created by the powerful explosions of the past. It serves as a guiding marker to all who would need it's towering peak to point them homeward.
The far off sound of a barking dog can be heard along with an occasional braying of a burro. The ancient city of Salvatierra is asleep once more. Its time for me to grab a few hours of rest before another day gets underway. The thin cool air of the high altitude, works its magic and soon I am sawing logs with the best of them.
The sound of roosters herald the coming of a new day and soon the horizon glows with the coming majesty of the sun as it peals away the darkness and touches the grateful bodies of those who need its warmth to drive away the cold that descended during the night. At first they come in a trickle as their ghostly forms appear in the darkness. As the morning progresses the trickle becomes a stream. They come from every direction. Like an army they make their way into the city: by foot, by bicycle, by car, by truck, by bus they come. Once again the city awakes as each one performs their service just as people everywhere, to provide the necessities of life for themselves and their families.
All roads lead to the plaza built in the center of the city . The plaza or garden has a gazebo at its center, large enough to house the local musicians. The outer parameter has a large sidewalk which is lined on each side by beautifully trimmed trees.. Benches placed in the shade of these trees beckon the footsore traveler to rest for a few moments before continuing on their way. For me the temptation is too great. Its charm is almost magical. The unique smells, sounds and sights that are Salvatierra fill my senses and in some strange way I feel like I have come home again.
Around the outer perimeter of the plaza are buildings that house, banking, churches, and government agencies as well as small shops which beckon the shopper to buy their goods. The city bustles with these shops - most of which are family operated - on practically ever street, They are usually small and concentrate on selling one type of wares. There are shops for hats, for men's clothes, women's clothes, plumbing supplies, electric supplies, auto parts, etc. etc. You name it and you probably will find it somewhere in Salvatierra.
The streets were built by the Spaniards for horse and buggy travel. With the exception of paving some of the streets, nothing has changed. But somehow these ancient streets have come to accommodate the hustle and bustle of modern traffic. Busses, taxis, cars, bicycles and motorcycles - navigate these narrow passages - always within inches of disaster. The ensuing near misses is enough to give a heart attack to the unsuspecting novice. After all these years you would think I would harden to spectacle, but somehow it is vision that defies ones ability to accept.
My favorite time is the couple of hours after the sun has sat and the city is winding down for another night. The appetite is whetted by the savor of the food floating on the evening air. Tomalleys, kasadias, freoles, corn on the cob, freshly roasted, chicken, along with tortillas and bollios are only an arms length away. A few pesos exchanged and your hunger is satiated for another day.
Sit with me in the tranquillity of the plaza. Young men take advantage of the last few moments to court their lady fare. Parents gather up their children and board the busses for home. Shop keepers store their goods and cover the doors and windows. And soon the ancient city of Salvatierra is once again asleep. It is a pattern that has been repeated for hundreds of years. Before the USA was a nation, Salvatierra was and had been for hundreds of years.