Another Historic House in La Paz

Towards the north end of the Malecón in La Paz, in the same block that the New Peking Chinese Restaurant is on, about mid-block, sits up above the sidewalk a simple, older brick house that was recently bought by a foreigner and modernized. Before that, the house had belonged to the Cuevas-Amadors, a regional family that also settled on Pardito, a small island (measuring about 60 yards by 40 yards) in the middle of the mile-wide channel separating San Jose Island from San Francisco Island in the northern Bay of La Paz.




This is a little bit of the story that the house on the malecon holds in its past.

Pardito Island as seen from the sea


The following is from a manuscript I'm working on that I'd like to share with my fellow Nomads who give a hoot.

"A Regional Baja Legend
During the years of the Revolution (1910-20), a typical Mexican had about a one-in-ten chance of dying a premature death. A typical Mexican living on the mainland, that is. In Baja California Sur, on the other hand, what revolutionary-related violence there was usually resembled an episode of the Keystone Kops more than a raid by Pancho Villa and his División del Norte. Because of its relative peacefulness, an adventurous young man living in Sinaloa might have found the peninsula just over the horizon an appealing destination during such turbulent times. And, according to his descendants, so it was that a young Juan Cuevas decided to try his luck in Baja California Sur.

In La Paz, fishing has long been an economic activity favored by newcomers with limited job skills, so Juan became a fisherman. He quickly advanced from crewing for others to owning his own boat. The typical boats used in those days were sail-and paddle-powered canoes imported from Nayarit, which were inexpensive to operate but had a limited range.

Back then, most local fishermen practiced one of two fishing strategies. Early each morning, part of the fleet left the city for nearby fishing grounds where they remained a day or two before returning home to either El Esterito or El Manglito, the two historic fishermen's neighborhoods of the city. These were the men who provided La Paz with fresh fish, much of it sold dangling from oars balanced across their backs while they walked through town hollering what the catch-of-the-day was.

The rest of the fishermen formed small groups amongst themselves and left La Paz at each group's personal convenience--or need--for extended periods, living in temporary camps at various locations along the shores of the Bay of La Paz. The lack of refrigeration and ice meant that catches had to be preserved with salt.

Each strategy had its advantages and disadvantages. The overnighters enjoyed the comforts of home on a regular basis while the campers had less competition for more fish.

Juan Cuevas tried yet another approach; he took his family with him and made the fish camp routine their lifestyle. Although there is some doubt as to when the Cuevas family first settled on Pardito, a book researched in the early 1950s states that 1923 was the year Juan and his wife Paula arrived, which coincides with what island residents say today, some of them adamantly.

By the 1940s, Juancho (at some point, Juan's name became Juancho) was a regional personage known for his quick wit and ability to spin a yarn. Although his sense of humor was appreciated by many, he also had a reputation as a tireless worker. He built all of Pardito's early structures himself. Living with a family on the waterless island meant frequent replenishment trips to tinajas (natural catchments that hold seasonal rains) on nearby islands or to San Evaristo, a community 9 miles away on the peninsula's coast. Cooking was done with firewood, which had to be gathered on the peninsula and surrounding islands using sail power. Don Juancho and sons also built evaporation ponds on San Francisco to produce some of the salt needed to preserve their catches. He also raised nine children with doña Paula. Even though he had little wealth to spare during his life, don Juancho was known for his kindness and generosity towards strangers in need.

Although don Juancho was known for many things, he was famous for one: maintaining several households simultaneously for most of his adult life. His descendants on Pardito say their grandfather had “only” four wives (wife is a term often used loosely in Mexico), but other sources place the number as high as nine. Some of the families knew and interacted with each other, one even lived for a time on the north shore of San Francisco Island, at the site where don Juancho and doña Paula first settled--within sight of Pardito.

For several decades, don Juancho managed his multiple families as a fishing cooperative, each household working as an economic unit in his enterprise. At times, the cooperative was able to produce more than what La Secretaria (the coastal trader that called on Pardito) had room for. When an American had boat trouble nearby and abandoned the craft, don Juancho was quick to rescue it and happy to become the proud owner of his very own seven-ton coastal trader.

Don Juancho put the extra cargo capacity to use, buying regional production to sell in La Paz. These arrangements allowed him to buy properties in La Paz, including a house on the malecón (the seawall along the town's harbor) at a time when fishermen were being driven off the waterfront by rising property values.

What has been recorded about this unusual affair of families often depicts a rosy picture of harmony and communal cooperation among its members. Don Juancho and his progeny are quoted saying that they lived well and wanted for nothing.

But there is evidence contradicting the popular view. One Islander remarked that, although don Juancho was known to outsiders for his easy-going, cheerful and helpful nature, he ruled his roosts like a dictator. Another sign of disharmony was how quickly the "family co-op" disintegrated once don Juancho's failing health confined him to La Paz.

When the Old Man suffered a stroke in the early 1970s during one of his frequent visits to the city, he and his wife retired to the house on the malecón. His eldest son, Eduardo (Nacho) accompanied them to help take care of him. The rest of the Pardito clan contributed part of their earnings to provide for their parents and older brother during the period of their parents' declining health.

Although he passed away in the late 1970s, don Juancho's fame lives on. A resident of Pardito told a story of a man from Mexico City coming to the island for advice. The visitor figured that if don Juancho could manage so many wives, then surely he could tell the man how to handle only one. Unfortunately, the trip was for naught, the seeker of knowledge arrived after don Juancho had passed away.

Today, more than three decades after his passing, people in the region still talk of don Juancho with respect and a bit of awe."


What don Juancho's house looked like before it was remodeled


Don Juancho's oldest son, Juanito and his wife, now in their 80s.


The house on the malecon now that it's been remodeled


A sunset from Pardito

My stepfather, the archaeologist, worked out of San Jose de Comondu during the 1950s and 60s. If you know anything about local archaeology, you may have heard of the Comondu Culture, which he named.

In the 1960s, we stopped in San Jose a few times (once, our truck broke down there and it took us three days to get back on the road, we camped under a large tree next to a bar just outside of town).

One of my most vivid memories was jumping off one of those old rock walls and onto a pile of what I thought were innocent palm frawns. While they were, indeed, palm frawns, they were from not-so-innocent date palms. I had one of those long thorns go though my tennis shoe sole, the tip of my toe and come out the top of the shoe. That was a well-learned, and relativelly cheap, lesson.

While I can't say I still know anyone living there, we do pass through sometimes to show out-of-towners the place. I particularly like arriving from San Javier, it always seems more spectacular from up there when you first arrive at the arroyo's edge. Too bad that both places aren't what they use to be--the youth are leaving to seek economic opportunities elsewhere. "In the olden days," there was much more agriculture in the arroyo and it really looked like a paradise found.

If I had lots of money, I'd own an old house or two in San Jose. Prices are bound to be cheap, and it's sure to become an American enclave eventually, that would be a good investment.

The view coming in from San Javier


The "Mission Church" at San Jose de Comondu. In actuality, the real mission church fell victim to the religious purges of the post-Revolutionary years, it's building material was used to build a nearby school, someone once said. This is part of the missionary's quarters, heavily rebuilt, if I'm not mistaken.


Of course, one of the best things about making the trip is the road between San Javier and the Comondus, sometimes not as well maintained as most other regional roads.

Loretanos aren't the only ones who have trouble with the way La Paz is oriented. The confusion is due to the direction from which one arrives in town when coming from the north. By the time you get to the malecon, you are actually heading northeast, towards Pichinlingue--in other words, when you get to the malecon, you're arriving out of the southwest. I didn't catch on to that little clue for years while living here.

So you have every right to be confused by how La Paz is oriented. We all are.





Man, I feel like David K.



[Edited on 2-10-2012 by Bajatripper]

Thanks for your thoughts and photo's ... tripper, much appreciated ...

what a great story ... and what a macho to have so many wives and kids LOL

Heck , most guys can't even handle one wife let alone 4 or more