celebration. Breaks were taken after each round
of dancing with gourds dipped into the buckets
and copious amounts of tesguino consumed –
some in cups and some poured straight from the
gourd into the thirsty celebrant's mouth.
Aside from our group there were fewer than a
dozen other tourists witnessing this. The other
spectators were local residents or Mexicans from
the surrounding countryside. At sunset the entire
procession danced in a parade to the cemetery on
the edge of town where a ceremony of speeches
and blessings was performed by leaders, followed
by an informal choir of women singing a haunting
hymn in their native tongue.
The hundreds-strong group then paraded back
into town and increased the frenzied pace of
dancing, running and drinking. From the moment
I stepped off the bus I noticed a group of sinister-
looking gentlemen in identical sequined shirts,
taco-hats and snakeskin boots – they certainly took
notice of me, a tall gringo with aviator sunglasses.
I did my best not to look directly at them but could
feel their suspicious stares.
Well after dark, my group of six walked down
a quiet dusty street towards the plaza and saw a
man passed out horizontally in the road, head
lying where a center-stripe would have been if the
road had been paved. “That doesn't look good,” I
thought as we approached, and as if on cue, an
automobile eased around us towards him. We
watched in horror as the car slowly rolled over his
head and a loud sickening POP! was heard. I'm
trained in Wilderness Advanced First Aid but
wanted no part of dealing with a massive head
wound in a foreign land.
After some urging from the group to help, I and
three others approached the victim to see what
assistance, if any, we could provide. As we per-
formed our initial assessment we realized his skull
remained intact, but he did have a gash on his
temple. The POP! we heard must have been the
tire reconnecting with the road or friction kicking
his head out from under the tire. He writhed in
pain as we attempted to check vital signs and
stanch the bleeding. A crowd quickly swarmed
around us. Some in the group were laughing and
drinking, with advice to push him to the side of the
road, while some women and children wailed in
anguish and flailed their arms. Through our pan-
icked broken Spanish we were informed that there
was no ambulance, no first-aid kit and no clinic in
town. The patient was mumbling, yelling, smiling,
grimacing, speaking a language we couldn’t
understand; his being smashed drunk didn't help,
but it provided an anesthetic at least.
Multiple times we begged the crowd to back up
and give us room, but it didn't help – the scene
became increasingly more raucous, and I could
feel the situation slipping out of our hands.
Crouched over him with only a headlamp for illu-
mination we were lost in a forest of shoes and legs.
Nothing in my training prepared me for a scenario
this chaotic. Finally, several of the town elders in
full-feathered regalia and paint arrived, calming
the crowd somewhat. They helped us load the
injured man into the bed of a pickup. We rolled a
blanket to stabilize and pad his head. The vehicle
prepared to leave, and we had to explain that
someone needed to ride with him to prevent him
from bouncing around the truck bed. One of the
elders suggested we ride along, but thankfully we
found a local who reluctantly volunteered to leave
the festivities and assist in this.
Our initial reception upon arriving in town had
felt uncomfortable, but after this incident the vil-
lagers warmed up to us and seemed genuinely
grateful for our presence. Two of the sinister-look-
ing men in expensive attire approached me with
grins and actually handed me a cold cerveza. The
ice was broken!
The dancing continued throughout the night,
and I began filming again at first light. The partic-
ipants were fewer in number, with many curled
around bonfires. Those still celebrating clearly had
equilibrium issues from too much tesguino.
As the sun warmed the cool morning air, I
became transfixed by a young Tarahumara who
seemed determined to prove his worth to the
elders with his dance, style and grit. Watching
him pirouette and snap the flag, with a small
group of acolytes following suit, was one of the
most graceful displays I’ve ever seen. The con-
centration and pride he demonstrated was
inspiring. In our world, where tradition and cul-
ture seem to be rapidly vanishing, I couldn't help
but see him as the flag-bearer of a proud and
unique people, completely focused on represent-
ing everything that came before him and what
was yet to come. Other dancers and women all
seemed to grow silent and watch him as I did,
unsmiling but gazing at him with reverence and
pride. It seemed like he was carrying the entire
populace on his back and still asked for more
burden; he appeared unstoppable. For over an
hour this continued. Villagers ceased their tasks
and gathered around him to witness. I don't
know when it ended. The call for departure
came, and I had to leave. As I walked busward
residents steadily streamed in the opposite
direction to join in with the building drumbeats.
This final day of celebration crescendoed with
a huge fire being built and Judas' effigy being
sacrificially cast into it, but our bus left before
we witnessed this ritual.
Riding homeward I reflected on the problems
and issues facing Mexico. They seem insur-
mountable, but I find it encouraging that no mat-
ter what hardships surround the people in
Barranca del Cobre they show a determination
to move in a direction they are familiar with –
forward, yet unchanging, with no need or desire
to alter their lifestyle. I briefly thought perhaps I
should retire in this area and start up a local vol-
unteer clinic, but there are many people much
more qualified than I for this. One goal I have set
that I can accomplish is to return to the Copper
Canyon many more times in my life to continue
hiking, exploring and experiencing a culture that
has remained virtually unchanged for centuries.
Mexican
and
American
Food
Noon Buffet Wednesday and Friday
Famous Beef & Chicken Fajitas • Ice Cream • Clean, Fast Service
Rene & Maria Franco, Owners
513 O’Reilly Street • Downtown Presidio
432.229.4409
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(see videos of Copper Canyon on Youtube at Angell
Expeditions)
Cenizo
First Quarter 2013
21