July 29, 2005
Miguel Hidalgo Haunted Us Across Mexico
posted by Heather
Whether we were driving in circles in Guanajuato, or finding our way through the busy streets of León, Don Hidalgo was there, painted on a tile placed high in a wall, giving his name to the street on which we wandered.
We left Jaumave on the afternoon of Friday, July 23, driving a white 15 passenger van down to Guanajuato and León to search for product ideas in the markets and talk with leather processing companies. There were five of us; David and Madeleine and baby Jesse, Mackenzi, and myself (Heather).
Our road led us South, through the plains. There cactus grows taller than the few mesquite trees. The sky seems very close to the hard-baked dirt, and oddly-shaped mesas stand up suddenly out of the dust. Little huts made of poles and thatched with dry yucca sit beside the highway; during the day vendors come out from the desert behind to sit in the shade of the huts and sell snake skins, wild birds, or little foxes that turn in tight circles in their tiny pens. We drove on, while the sun set behind the bank of clouds that lay low in the horizon and the plains began to rise into the rolling, mountainous region around Guanajuato.
Plan A had been to stay with a missionary family on the other side of the town. But as 11:00 PM approached, then passed, and we were still driving in circles, we decided to find a hotel instead. Miguel Hidalgo laughed from his perch on the concrete walls. We followed his street down into subterranean tunnels and back out, toward the edge of town then back in. The van complained as we forced it around corners in narrow, cobble-stoned streets. The brakes began to smell as we went down the steep inclines, only to go back up when one-way streets turned us in directions we did not choose.
It was well after midnight when we gave up on our maps and David's keychain compass. Miguel Hidalgo had won. A taxi driver eating a late dinner at a taco stand agreed to lead us to the hotel we had called for reservations – La Casa Mexicana. He took us farther than we expected, out of Guanajuato, leaving us finally at a very nice looking lodge just beyond the edge of town. It was not until after we had paid him, and he had left, that we realized that it was NOT La Casa Mexicana. It was a Bed and Breakfast, and it was closed. Blankly we stared at each other; we were completely lost, it was nearly one o’clock in the morning, and we were no closer to finding our hotel than when we first entered the city nearly three hours before.
But God was faithful. His faithfulness would become a recurring theme during our trip. It took only a few minutes to find a second taxi, who led us back into town, through the same tunnels in which we had wandered, and right to the doors of the Casa Mexicana.
We spent two full days in Guanajuato, visiting the markets that abound in this very pretty city set on the side of a mountain. David was looking for ideas and patterns, crafts that might influence the work that Joshua Projects' El Proyecto del Carpintero will be making. Guanajuato is a very pretty town, with plazas shaded by huge trees, and winding, cobblestone streets running up and down the mountainside. Street vendors stand on the sidewalks by the national theater. The markets are crammed with vendors, selling everything from tomatoes and onions to shoes, underwear, or baskets. A farmer – his skin wrinkled and leathery from the sun – led several donkeys down the street. His ten-year-old son rode the lead donkey. Old women sat on the edge of the concrete stairs, scraping the spines of flat cactuses with huge knives in their tiny, wrinkled hands.
Monday we left Guanajuato behind and drove about an hour to León, the leather capital of Mexico. We forestalled Miguel Hidalgo and found a taxi before we were lost, and followed him to the first leather processing company we would visit, Bengala. The representative met us at the big, steel door to show us around and explain the processes to us. He took us past big drums tossing fresh leather with dye, past a steel table where small hoses spread paint on the leather, passed racks of leather drying, and into his office. There he spent close to an hour answering David's questions, cutting off leather samples, and writing down restaurant recommendations, leather market locations, and the name of a nearby hotel.
Here again we were struck by God's faithfulness, shown to us through the representative. Not content with giving directions to the hotel, he led the way to make sure we arrived.
God went before us the next day, too. When losing our way, or dealing with difficult banks, or the inevitable delays kept us from visiting the third and last leather company until just before it closed, it seemed as if our meeting would be short and ineffective. Instead, we found that the rep was undistracted and able to give us his undivided attention, answering questions and giving us the behind-the-scenes tour.
Miguel Hidalgo continued to follow us as we started home. But we were expecting him now, and he couldn’t catch us quite the way he did that first night in Guanajuato. Safely back in Jaumave, it is clear to see how God blessed us and protected us on this trip through Mexico. Yes, we got lost over and over again, but He always helped us find our way in the end. He protected us in Guanajuato as we wandered through the markets. He gave direction in León as we talked to the leather companies, helping us to gather the information we needed. He got us back home safely.
Miguel Hidalgo might have followed us across Mexico, but God went before us.