By: Gibran Rivas | Category: Aztahuacan Legends / Subcategory: Chronicles of the Earth and Water
When the Past Blooms Through the Asphalt
Many of us who walk today along Eje 5 and Ermita, or those who go shopping at the large stores in the area, ignore that beneath our feet rests a memory of struggle, water, and blood. Official history usually tells us about the conflict from grand palaces, but the true Santa Maria Aztahuacan Revolution was experienced by our original towns defending their land and faith.
The story you are about to read is a beautiful and shocking testimony. The man who bequeaths it to us, Don Isidoro Flores, was born in 1929; a key year for Catholics, as it was the peak of the Cristero War. This was a painful conflict where humble people had to rise up to defend the right to profess their faith and celebrate the Holy Mass against government persecutions, even hiding crucifixes because Calles’ government set up all the Acme brand traps it could like the Coyote and failed… like the Coyote. Although Don Isidoro didn’t fight in 1910, his family made sure to pass down the truth of what happened in town, offering us unique chronicles of the Santa Maria Aztahuacan Revolution and La Cienega. We hear everything from the tragic hangings on the town’s pepper trees and the muleteers moving tequezquite, to the ancient limits of our great forgotten lagoon.
We leave you with his intact voice, a direct bridge to our grandparents’ memory.
What They Told Me About the Santa Maria Aztahuacan Revolution
Speaker: Mr. Isidoro Flores
“My name is Isidoro Flores, I am originally from the town of Santa Maria Aztahuacan, I am 79 years old. It wasn’t my turn to be in the armed conflict, since I was born in 1929, when the Cristero War was at its peak, but on this occasion I would like to comment on some events of the 1910 Santa Maria Aztahuacan Revolution that happened here, which my uncle Pedro Flores told me about.
First I will start with the hanged men, because at that time when the Government soldiers arrived and found people who sympathized with the Zapatistas, they hanged them regardless of whether they were young; they raped the women. As I was saying, there was a very notorious case here and they were the hanged men of the old road of Santa Maria, over there where the Comercial Mexicana is now, the one on the axis and Ermita, that big one there, there were huge trees, they were pepper trees (pirules), pepper trees were abundant here. There were three neighbors from the town who were hanged, one was Martín Castillo, Don Merced Castillo’s father; another was Manuel Barrera; the other I don’t remember his name well, what I remember is that his last name was Fuentes, that was in ’14, because the uprising started in 1910.
The second thing I will comment on is about General Herminio Chavarría. When he took up arms, the first to follow him were his brother Juan Chavarría who was a Zapatista captain, and Don Pedro Cedillo who was a colonel; I knew him, he dressed in a colonel’s uniform, he was a sub-delegate of Iztapalapa here in the town, he ordered the San Pedro washhouses to be built. Another who followed him was Juan Chirino, Mrs. Guillermina’s father, I think he was first a captain and then a colonel.
When General Herminio was killed, they shot him and brought him to the hospital, but they took him out already dead. I don’t remember if it was in ’13 or ’14, but it was almost at the beginning of the Santa Maria Aztahuacan Revolution. They say he was buried near the church door, since they still buried people there in those years. I still knew many graveyards, they were very big and made of stone when I was 9 years old in 1938, but Carrancistas arrived and dug him up to burn him.
Don Herminio was very well known since he was a muleteer, muleteers were abundant here. They were the ones who took tequezquite and many other things produced in Aztahuacan to sell. They went away for a long time, sometimes for 2 months, they went to the State of Morelos, Guerrero, and Puebla.
In Santa Maria there was La Cieneguilla, ‘La Cienega’, which had a lot of water. A lot of cattle would get lost there, my uncle would go look for them because they would get stuck in the acalote (water channel). In the Cieneguilla pasture there was a lot of land, it reached up to where the 44 (Public Ministry agency) is. It was a very large lagoon, they hunted ducks there, that is, they formed hunting parties. Later, this territory changed completely, becoming the Ejido of Aztahuacan as a consequence of the Santa Maria Aztahuacan Revolution.”
Conclusion: The Invisible Footprints of Aztahuacan
This account is pure gold for our local map. Don Isidoro has just revealed to us that the ancient lagoon, known by our grandparents as “La Cieneguilla”, was so immense that its shallow waters and acalotes formally extended to what we know today as the Territorial Coordination or Public Ministry agency 44. No wonder current floods continue to take their toll in those same areas! Our land has memory and reclaims its ancient grounds.
If you are passionate about discovering how this great wetland defined the town’s history and how duck hunting financed local monuments, we invite you to read our special investigation on the secrets of the Lagoon of Aztahuacan and the Centenary Clock.
Did you know the tragic fate the Carrancistas gave to the remains of our General Herminio Chavarría during the Santa Maria Aztahuacan Revolution, or did you know that you do your shopping on Ermita right where there were once revolutionary pepper trees? Tell us in the comments what your grandparents passed down to you. Let’s build community!
