Francisca Lomelí Rodríguez: memories of an almost centenarian woman
Francisca Lomelí Rodríguez is 96 years old and has retained all her vivid memories that describe the San Cristóbal of her childhood. Photo by: María Reynozo.
By: María del Refugio Reynozo Medina
Francisca Lomelí was orphaned at the age of eight. School was her life. In the San Cristóbal Zapotitlán of her childhood, classes only went up to third grade. She attended school and she remembers the name of her teacher, Trina.
The school was made of adobe and reed. It was not surrounded by a wall, but by a “wall” of huizaches and nopales (native trees and cactus). In addition to learning how to read, the girls learned how to sew and embroider napkins. They spent a lot of time at school because at noon they went home for lunch and then returned to continue the afternoon’s classes. At the end of the school year, the municipal president, accompanied by the town delegate, would go to see the students’ final work. The teachers would place a sample of the student’s embroidered napkins on display.
Corporal punishment was given by wooden ruler. When students did not finish their homework, they were given a few slaps of the ruler.
The teacher wrote lessons in chalk on a blackboard, using a cloth as an eraser. There were no notebooks. The students would buy a sheet of brown paper and tear it into four parts, and when the pages were worn out on both sides, they would buy another sheet.
Francisca remembers the delegate of that time, Beatriz Chavez’s father. He used to openly carry a gun every day. He was a man who was respected. He paid to have a cobblestone pavement installed in town. Despite looking different today, the plaza was the place to go for prominades and serenades.
Chica, as Francisca is known to the townspeople, remembers the nights of music and the women and men milling around. Some women would carry a “chiquihuite” or palm basket with flowers from their garden and sell them for pennies. It used to be very common for there to be fights on holidays. Men would go around armed with guns or knives. Sometimes as many as three or four people were killed, who were left lying around while the aggressor escaped, as there were no police as there are now. The police, who sometimes appeared, were called «Los Charros» by the people.
The women were guarded carefully by their male siblings and parents, although some, when there were weddings, carried a bottle of punch and danced to the music of the harp.
-We waltzed,» they would say.
Chica remembers “El Vapor,” which was a very large boat that came from Chapala. In the morning, very early, it arrived for the passengers and returned in the afternoon. On its journey over the waves of the waters of Chapala, El Vapor, emitted a high-pitched noise that reached the ears of the locals. It was a strange noise, like in the famous song «La Llorona,» the locals said.
People would come to the shore in the morning to say goodbye to their relatives and watch the boat floating in the water, until it was gone from view. In the afternoon, they would also come to the shore to receive the passengers, who came loaded with packages from errands in Chapala.
The steamboat was the only way out, since there was no highway around the lake in those times. The first streets that were made were called caminos. Everything was surrounded by mountains, so it was difficult traveling over them.
In town of San Cristobal, there was not much to buy. There was a store owned by Arnulfo and Lola Aceves. Everything could be bought by centavos: a centavo of butter, a centavo of salt, a centavo of cheese.
Another man was called Tacho. He sold meat, but not every day. When he was going to slaughter an animal, he would announce himself by standing in the middle of the street rubbing his knives against each other. The sound could be heard for many blocks and people knew that there would be fresh meat that day.
“Tacho is sharpening his knives,» people would think, and they would prepare to go shopping. Pigs and chickens were raised in the houses. On special days people would slaughter the pigs that they had raised. Chica remembers the whiteness of the lard and the smell of pork rinds from the houses, as there is no other smell like it. The pigs roamed the streets and none of them got lost. They could roam all day long and return home in the evening to sleep. Sometimes the sows were heavily pregnant and returned home, accompanied by the piglets walking alongside their mother. The chickens were also on the loose, going to and from their homes.
The water of the lagoon was so clean that the people could drink it. The townspeople went with pitchers to bring it back in order to prepare food and also to drink. Chica remembers that her grandfather had some beehives and extracted a lot of honey from them. He would invite the neighbors to bring a small pot to share his honey with them.
There was an «old boy» (that’s what they called him because he never married), but he was a older man. He sold bread in town.
The church was an old building, made of adobe and tile. Father Prisciliano Michel contributed to its improvement. Chica remembers, when she was a child, that after mass they would bring sand from the cemetery. Everyone cooperated, young and old, with whatever they could, and if they could bring a brick, they contributed.
The villagers contributed to the construction of the temple. There was a lot of religious fervor during Holy Week, remember that the women only made hats until Wednesday because Thursday, Friday and Saturday were days of mourning and fasting. The images hanging on the walls were covered with purple cloth as a sign of mourning. No music was played, and many went to church on their knees in the street. Nor did people ride horses; if they passed a cross, they crossed themselves with reverence and the men took off their hats.
In the town there was no Health Center; Daniel Cervantes was everyone’s doctor, he gave injections, he was very good at curing people. Then a doctor Ureña started to come, and another one was called Dr. Cuervo.
From her bed, Francisca continues talking about her childhood and youth.
It was nice,» she says with a smile.
When I ask her about her husband, she says:
“He was my first and last boyfriend.”
José Reynoso and she never talked, they shortened the distance with messages sent through friends, or with José’s whistles from the street informing her that he had been near. On some occasions her friend Margarita Solano, warned her.
-Chirin, chirin!
She would exclaim from the door and Chica would come out to greet her and raise her hand, while behind her friend’s back, Jose would return her greeting from a distance.
Translated by Colleen Beery
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