Tepoztlán and Taxco, colonial charm and silver
By Robin Evans (April, 13, 2006)

I just arrived back in San Miguel from a five-day bus tour through the mountains of central Mexico. We were 30 travelers, plus our bus driver and David, our guide. First, we went to Mexico City for a drive-through.

David chose a beautiful route, but I'm glad we didn't stop and spend any time there because it's very crowded and the air is polluted. 

We stopped for one day in Cuernavaca, a large city several hours outside Mexico City, from which we took a day trip to the wonderful, tiny mountain town of Tepoztlan, a place with much Indian and Spanish culture. The Catholic church in Tepoztlán is hundreds of years old and has only been restored very sparingly in an effort to retain in their entirety the original murals and structures. One wonders how a church bell, taller than I, was installed up so high long ago, and how those murals were painted so perfectly, as if by a computer. 

The people of Tepoztlán lovingly create a new front gate for their churchyard every year. The gate is made up of large panels decorated with murals created entirely from colorful seeds-incredible numbers of tiny seeds of every color, hue, size and variety, all glued into place in lines, areas of color, shade and pattern. It looked as though none of the seeds was artificially colored, and no paint had been used.

The murals inside the church at Tepoztlán are painted, or, perhaps, artists applied color with fired clay stamps and then handpainted faces and other details. The murals were striking line paintings. It appeared as if the artist used a mixture of powdered charcoal and vegetable oil to create jet-black images on a white, plaster-like background.

As a rule, Mexican churches are flamboyant affairs, with pounds of gold leaf covering European, Gothic, Victorian or Rococo interiors. Altars and statuary often are adorned with velvet, jewels and solid-gold halos. There are rich oil paintings, sometimes painted directly onto the wet plaster. There can be huge vaulted ceilings with opulently painted domes and sumptuous floor-to-ceiling altars, sometimes three and four in a single church. 

The Catholic church in Tepoztlán is no exception. On the day we were there, we were able to enter the internal courtyards, rooms and passageways of the church, as well as walk in the grounds.

Flowering jacarandas line the walks and interrupt the landscape with their divine fragrance and spectacular amethyst blossoms like giddy prima donnas.

I met a local who told me that the town has vortexes of power under it. There may be something to that, since many in our party reported elevated feelings of well-being and happiness while they were in Tepoztlán. 

On the other hand, these travelers, Los Vagabundos as they refer to themselves, already were a pretty cool bunch.

Back in Cuernavaca, some of the group visited galleries and museums, others shopped or lazed by the pool and yet others visited the home of the American-born artist Robert Brady. An outrageously showy, Spanish colonial home, it is full to overflowing with sumptuous art, sculpture, fine furnishings and textiles. The Brady home has been kept as it was when Brady gave it to the city upon his death in 1986. Apparently, Brady did not care for electricity or other modern things. His home could have been from any era, and if you ignore the kidney-shaped swimming pool, sitting precariously atop the artificial hill on which the home itself is perched, you could imagine yourself to be anywhere in Mexico at any time. (By the way, if you're a disabled person in Mexico, you're not asked to pay an entrance fee to many tourist attractions. When I insisted on paying, my Spanish-speaking companion informed me that I was insulting them. They were offering me a gift and I should accept it gracefully. Hence, I did!)

The next day, we set off for even higher elevations. The mountain village of Taxco is just over 100 miles southwest of Mexico City. Taxco is one of Mexico's famed "silver cities." As we meandered slowly into the town (in the VW Beetles we rented because the streets are too narrow for a bus), we noticed that the shop fronts along the way literally glittered and sparkled with new, polished silver objects. There are hundreds of tiny shops as well as large wholesale factories and supermarket-type stores where you are given a basket at the door in which to collect your purchases. 

There are dazzling displays of silver jewelry, tableware, belt buckles, clothing accessories and candlesticks that stand up to four feet high. There are great silver cats, birds, fish, insects, human images, bar accessories, autos, lighters and boxes.

There is engraved silver, burnished silver and every conceivable thing that can be cast, sculpted, covered, beaten, dipped or clad in silver-and it is that way in almost every shop in town. The quality is excellent and the prices are very reasonable. Our group arrived in town in the late afternoon and by dinner time we had already begun to look like visiting royalty. Taxco is an absolute must-see, not just for the silver but also for the unsurpassed joy of its people. 

The Cathedral at Taxco, situated in the city zócalo (main plaza), is on the international 100-most-endangered monuments list. It is an exquisite rococo twin-towered monolith of stone, gilt and Spanish treasure.

We had a lot of fun in the hotel at Taxco-several in our group got quite lost in the rabbit warren of corridors, stairwells and oddly shaped rooms.

Until the time we headed for the VWs to leave town, we were still buying stuff. A street seller approached me with beautiful hand-carved alabaster Mexican Indian masks. "500 pesos," he said. "What?" I said, "I'll give you 100 pesos." "250 pesos?" he replied. Feeling like I had his number, I repeated my original offer and he caved. I was amazed at how easy it was to get my price; after all, it was a beautiful thing. I paid him and clambered into the waiting VW. 

Later, on the bus, I pulled out my mask to proudly show it off and tell the story of my latest achievement in the skill of barter, when someone said, "I saw those for 75 pesos in a shop down the street!" Grrrr. I hadn't achieved anything. In fact, I had overpaid by about US $2.50. I had to laugh at my own foolishness in thinking I had gotten the better of the man. He was a professional, and I became his early morning score. I got what I deserved!