I now know why I enjoy taking trips into rural Sonora in Mexico.
It’s because those sweet trips remind me of my growing up in a rural western Pennsylvania town.
I love reading maps, and when I spotted Ortiz, Sonora as a small, obviously rural dot on the map of Sonora, I said aloud to myself, “Why not go there?”
The beauty of San Carlos couldn't keep me from wandering through Sonora's rural towns. (Image taken by Victor Hugo de Lafuente Flores)
But for some mystifying reason, on my way there, I rented a small house in San Carlos, Sonora.
I spent a couple of days there, exploring San Carlos’s rugged shoreline watching seals, dolphins, and seabirds fooling around in pristine tidal pools. But I soon grew restless, because, in general, I dislike tourist sites, especially ones that cater to middle-class Americans, Canadians, and Mexicans, as San Carlos does.
Soon realizing the big mistake I’d made, I fled San Carlos driving southeast from San Carlos to Empalme, which was – once upon a time – an important, prospering railroad town. That was definitely confirmed when I crossed a double set of railroad tracks where off to the left and right of me I saw the rusting, tilted hulks of locomotives, boxcars, and cabooses.
When I entered Empalme, the first person I met was a traffic cop who whistled me down as I was about to make a wrong turn into a one-way street. Flustered, I apologized and asked him if he knew the best route to Ortiz, whereupon he exclaimed: “That’s where I was born!” He then gave me very precise directions for the drive up to Ortiz.
Following his directions, the first town I encountered was Las Palmas, Sonora. I smiled, because it was clearly a rural town with, maybe, 60 modest houses clustered around a store.
Thirsty, I pulled up to the store to see a gaggle of pre-teenage boys hanging around its front – teasing giggling and poking at each other.
As soon as I stopped, one bold boy apparently saw this “norteamericano” as an easy mark. He told me that he and his pals were thirsty after a hard morning’s work at school. And so, this easy-going “norteamericano” told the bold boy that he’d be happy to buy him and his pals a round of Pepsis. Which prompted more of the teasing, giggling and poking that is so universal among all pre-teens worldwide.
But when they ran into the store to claim their sodas, the storekeeper chastised them and glowered at me. He was embarrassed by what he perceived as their rude behavior and displeased by my apparent gullibility.
His stern, disapproving demeanor reminded of the chastisements I once got from my western Pennsylvania dad, when I did something stupid. (Which was often.) But I was only amused, and after paying the cranky fellow for the Pepsis, I then headed on up to Ortiz, on a rolling, severely potholed road.
When I arrived at Ortiz, I encountered more of my own life growing up as a kid in a western Pennsylvania town.
To be sure, Ortiz, with its current population of about 1,000, is a much smaller town than was my Pennsylvania town. Most of Ortiz’s streets are unpaved, just like the western Pennsylvania lane on which I was born.
But as I drove slowly through Ortiz, raising puffs of dust, I saw flourishing backyard garden plots with some of the same vegetables my dad nurtured back in my own hometown – tomatoes, carrots, cabbages, onions, and corn.
Finally, what impressed me most during my visit in Ortiz was the greeting an Ortiz mom gave me as I passed by while she was busily pinning bed-sheets onto her clothesline.
She somehow managed to flash a big smile my way. I waved, smiled back, and remembered my mom.
Jack, you’ve prompted me also to remember my mom, who worked 6 days a week at Randolph AFB, bending over our bathtub, scrubbing school-boy clothes on a washboard. Oxydol was her preferred soap. On the surface of the rinse water, cloudy bubbles would form.
During the summer, my older brother and I were delighted to jump in the last rinse water to cool off.
Mom’s hands, like the hands of so many moms, showed the signs of washboard ripples.
Great article Jack,
The outbacks in Mexico are wonderful places to visit but you missed Santa Clara de Guaymas, Santa Clara de Guaymas and Arroyro de Guaymas. The small Mexican ejidos that surround Guaymas. These are small Mexican barrios that reflect village living on the outskirts of Guaymas. You really should have checked out LaMonga. A small fishing village on the West outskirts of San Carlos. A village of fisherman, their families and a succession of 10 – 12 seat restraunts selling the catch of the day. Empalme is a major city compared to these villages. Ortiz is a historical site and the fort is still there. My guess is that you will find more tourists there (you went there) than you will find in San Carlos.
You also mis-characterized San Carlos de Guaymas as a tourist town. I have been here eight years and have probably run into less than 100 tourists during this period. San Carlos is a retirement town that the developers and maybe some of the Realtors would like to see become a tourist town. The Gringos you saw were probably 65+, retired and living their dream in sunny Mexico at a fraction of the cost they would be experiencing North of the border. San Carlos is a weekend destination for many Mexican Nationals who come here during the weekends and during “Semana Santa” (Holy Week, Easter) or what NorteAmericanos would call Spring Break with a major exception. In San Carlos it’s the whole family that flocks to the beaches. Ever available hotel room si rented and there are thousands of families ten camping on the beach. The town comes alive at night with young people partying on the main street (Beltrones) and it is reminiscent of dragging the main in the valley in the sixties. Smile, attempts by gringos with Spanish and the same with Mexicans wanting to get into conversation to practice their English.
Come back and I’ll give you the real San Carlos tour.
—
George Gadsby
Casa de Muchos Besos
San Carlos Mexico
I swear, Bruce, Oxydol was also my mom’s favorite detergent!
But the aroma I most remember is the foul-smelling Lava soap my dad used to scrub off the grime from his hands after working in a highly skilled job – for barely liveable wages – for a machine company back there in my western PA hometown.
When he joined his fellow workers to try to establish a union, the machine shop shut down.
Which leads me to recall another aroma I remember – wall-paper paste.
Because during that shut-down, somehow, my dad managed to support us, by becoming, quite possibly, one of the best “wall-papering experts” in all of western Pennsylvania.
But the most puzzling thing about my dad is that he always voted Republican!
Hi Jack: Loved your “Meanderings.” I remember sending in Oxydol box tops from Brooklyn to get free vegetable seeds. Don’t forget to vote for that other guy from Western Pennsylvania.
When driving south from Nogales on our way to retirement in Mexico, we made the mistake of stopping in San Carlos for the night. It was Saturday of Semana Santa. All the hotels were packed for the holiday. We had to go to a time-share resort which had doubled their price to $200US. It was a nice place, right on the beach, with a roving swimming pool, Wifi, and breakfast buffet.
Semana Sancta. The one week of the year when San Carlos is unbelievable. We lock the gate and smile, smile, smile. Actually, I like the kids, it’s like a Mexican Burning Man, they even have fireworks. Think Mardi Gras (which it actually is) South of the border. Bad week unless you are into a Mejicano rave. And habla Espanol.
Except for that week, actually really about three days, San Carlos is a sleepy Gringo retirement village. Great prices and restaurants, and as George said above.
But if you come during Semana Sancta, make sure to bring your Xtasy and roll, roll, roll.
Thanks, George and “badfrog” for giving me a deeper look into San Carlos. It is truly a stunning place, and obviously one that you both love.
That’s not the first time I’ve been mistaken in Mexico, though – it is an incredibly complex country. I once lived in a small village outside Oaxaca City for 3 months which was far too little time for me to even begin figuring out the history and cultural influences of the indigenous people that form the majority of the population there.
Even my description of Empalme (a city of 40,000) left out that it fronts the bay where the newly renovated and huge shipping port has arisen. It is a port that will soon be one of the busiest on the entire west coast which will surely bring an uplift to the economies of both Guaymas and Empalme.
I shall return and when I do, it will surely be during Semana Santa! There’s hardly anything I enjoy more than an authentic Mexican fiesta.
I wish that I could go back in time and visit small town Pennsylvania. But having left the US, I have to do the local scene which is the Patzcuao-Morelia corridor. To be sure there is a great contrast between the rusting railroad cars of Empalme. Railroading is big time in my area with the Canadian owned rail lines being constantly maintained. This has become big business probably due to the China trade. But I would give anything to have the railroad passenger cars back online to travel around Mexico. As a teen I traveled by railroad from Ciudad Juarez on the Texas border to Coahuila before it became a part of history. I think that this area, that is Coahuila holds a part of my history as my paternal grandad was instrumental in taking the railroad north to connect with the US lines in El Paso. Wish I knew more of that story. Wish that passenger trains were still running between Mexico and the US.
Great story! Thanks for sharing.