modern tzintzuntzan

When we left our Michoacán historical narrative, the evil Nuño de Guzmán was being led off stage in chains.  Leaving behind the decimated P'urhépecha society.


Actually, it was the opposite of decimated -- where only one in ten is killed.  Ninety per cent of the P'urhépecha were dead -- through disease, war, execution, or slavery.


Some of the "bad Spanish" tales have been exaggerated to serve political ends.  But not this one.  The P'urhépecha were in terrible shape.

The new bishop (a Jesuit lawyer), Vasco de Quiroga, was a perfect anti-Guzmán to turn the P'urhépecha into good colonial subjects. 


And let's not fool ourselves.  He was there as a colonial functionary.  Admittedly, to do good.  But he was not a liberator.


Don Vasco wanted to remake society on earth while saving people's souls.  He admired Thomas More's Utopia, and believed it could be the basis for restoring P'urhépecha society.  A society that would be peaceful, Spanish, and -- Catholic.

Each village under his care would have a specialized trade.  The villages would then trade with one another.  Creating a larger self-sufficient community.


Even today Don Vasco is revered by the P'urhépecha.  And the results of his experiment are still evident in Michoacán.


Don Vasco assisted the P'urhépecha in building a Spanish town on the ruins of old Tzintzuntzan.  That portion of modern Tzintzuntzan has changed little since then -- except for the hordes of tourists toting off chairs and chests.


Tzintzuntzan's specialty was (and is) carved woodwork.  I did not take any photographs of the woodwork shops.  Frankly, the pieces struck me as being rather pedestrian.  Especially, considering the town's reputation.


But there were some interesting (and colorful) woven reed pieces.  The type of thing you buy your mother-in-law to enjoy watching her figure out just what to do with it.

The only other attraction in town is a Franciscan monastery and church.  The grounds and the buildings are currently going through a major renovation.  And an honored site because it is where Don Vasco began his project.


I have often wondered why Mexico, as a Spanish-based culture, did not use olive oil in its cooking.  The obvious answer is because Mexico is a maize-based culture.


But Don Vasco tried to get the locals to switch to olive oil.  The church courtyard has an orchard of olive trees, the oldest planted by Don Vasco's hand (or at least at his command) almost five centuries ago.  Living proof that Mexico's history still impacts its daily life.


In the photograph, you can see one of the newer olive trees in front of the church.

Modern Tzintzuntzan is an interesting stop, but it was not enough to hold my interest for very long.


So, off we went to Pátzcuaro -- where my interest did not wane.