Osprey - 2-14-2016 at 07:18 PM
The Pulse
Things You Can’t See through the Windows of a Bus
I’m interested in Anthropology but I could never be a real student of the science. Too much frustration at every opportunity for discovery and
enlightenment.
Here’s an example: in the U.S. and elsewhere they are beginning to amass millions of hours of verbal history, taped interviews with seniors about
their lives, vocations, travels, avocations, families and more. Young, inspired scholars find out who they might want to interview, arrange to do
that, usually at their home or rest home and they show up with recorder in hand along with a small gift for the interviewee.
I’ve listened to a few of the tapes from the files of a giant and growing library at University of Nevada at Las Vegas. I listened to my dad’s tape
first; he’s long gone and missed but it seemed he was right there with me when I heard the old quirky jargon about a gamblers life interrupted by his
coughing, wheezing fits.
With the many other tapes it sounded to me like the seniors were a little nervous at first but after a few minutes they were not able to be stopped
--- as the histories unfolded it often became a string of hit and miss remembrances that would have to be placed in some order and/or edited for
veracity or clarity by others in tune with the times and places. What a task! When I left I was thinking “Forget all this personal stuff and study the
newspapers of that time and place.”
Of course one could only do that if they had newspapers. Many small towns don’t have newspapers – there’s no newspaper in La Ribera so I’ll have to be
the local history guy. You may consider this my rambling tape (with no coughing or wheezing). I’ve only lived here for 20 years so don’t expect first
hand history from me before 1995 – expect what you came for, the flavor and tone of the place.
The earliest maps of the Baja California peninsula showed it to be a long island paralleling the west coast of Mexico. I still see it that way because
it may as well be an island for those of us who enjoy its southern parts. This little village is on the inside of the island where locals fish the
calmer waters of the Gulf of California. Down here we are in an almost desert, a transitional zone because our scant rainfall depends on the sea and
wind, upwellings and hurricanes and not much rain from mainland Mexico.
This little town is about 12 miles from the talus of the mountains nearby and is surrounded by wide arroyos that are usually dry but which carry
untold acre feet of water when the storms bring water in the form of deluge along with dangerous winds. A large hill, Cerro La Ribera, splits the huge
arroyo and diverts the ruinous random flash floods to either side of the area below, between the hillock and the playa.
Tourists have been passing through this area for millennia so they noticed the flat dry place protected by the hill and that’s where they stayed for a
time; some even settled and over the last 200 years the flat place down by the water began to look like a little village. What held the people from
moving on was the fresh water in and near the arroyos and several inshore seamounts that for thousands of years have held food fish in great
abundance.
Eventually the area was beset by storm driven surges of water that fooled them all and entirely flooded the little camp and all the structures. The
villagers cleaned it up again and again but when there began to be serious potential for loss of life the government stepped in, soldiers rounded up
all the people there, cordoned off the whole area and moved everyone to safer, higher ground.
That’s where I live, 65 feet above sea level on a little bluff that now looks down on what remains of the fingers and islands of what was to be a
grand and glorious marina. The local ejido sold all that low-lying land the government moved them from so the 800 acre parcel could become two golf
courses, lots of homes, condos and hotels --- after 8 years only one house, no golf, no condos, no hotels, marina slips for about a dozen fishing
boats, a small launch ramp. Beyond that, not many changes here since I arrived 20 years ago ---- population has grown by about 1,000 people.
Occasional hurricanes and storms in the mountains still fill the arroyos, flood the deltas, ruin marina maintenance efforts, keep the water table up
for the farmers and replenish the marine food like minerals and edible detritus along the shores and out to the seamounts that feed the whole village.
All the weather elements now seem bent on overtaking the whole marina beginnings, returning the land to wild, free ciénaga – incessant north winds
push great waves to punish the jetties while sand is being forced back into the channel.
The current one of a kind Gorilla El Niño likewise is punishing Baja’s Pacific coast where fishermen and villager’s beaches and lifestyles are in
jeopardy. The people cope as they always have. They need only to have some breathing room, some time and space to adjust. They have a communal pulse
you can almost feel running low and slow to go on; over, under, through to find food and comfort for their families when this harsh place turns
against them.
This Christ Child phenomenon is not through with us. Nobody can see the terrible changes to come – my neighbors will get through it and many years
from now only a few will remember it. Maybe some young anthros will catch a word or two on the tapes but it will be lost in the blizzard of curses and
invectives spat out about The Government or The Governor. The Gorilla can’t change that.
Footnote:
The Gorilla might stay around to haunt a lot of people for a very long time. All up and down the Baja (and the mainland) storm surges, high winds,
higher tides, Blue Moon tides are moving the beach sand around like never before. Soon the Government, SEMARNAP, will come to the party and begin to
move the markers, mojones, for the Zona Maritima, The Free Zone, while we all wonder:
Are they doing it right? That is, since the zone is marked off AS AN AVERAGE OF ALL THE HIGE TIDE WET SAND MARKS AT A GIVEN LOCATION IN A LUNAR
EPOCH, 18.6 YEARS, when did they mark the last one? Where are we in the cycle of the current Lunar Epoch?
Since most of the markers are lost, stolen, buried, how good are their records? Are they being fair as they decide the placement based on recent
sand/beach gain or loss? Won’t it change every concession in place and start a never ending concession paper chase that leads nowhere?
[Edited on 2-15-2016 by Osprey]
Osprey - 2-14-2016 at 10:49 PM
I don't know lencho. I know they use Google Earth now to collect property tax but it has some glitches. A lady in Loreto went into complain about her
tax bill, the clerk went over the imagery with her, pointed out the buildings and the appropriate tax.
One of the buildings was a BIG guaymuchile tree.
People around here move those markers at night as often as they think it will advantage their position especially those with concessions. Wonder if I
would renew, pay for a concession I could see was now under water most of the year? Wonder if my concession space doubled due to gana del mar if I
could legally keep people further from my property?
BajaBlanca - 2-15-2016 at 06:20 PM
the storms are really eating away at the beachfront property here in town - the original markers are totally irrelevant any more.
Udo - 2-17-2016 at 09:21 AM
Thanks for enlightening me of the village's life and geography. I think we would have to have a very rapid iceberg meting as well as a gargantuan El
Niño to have the ocean water reach your property.
MMc - 2-17-2016 at 09:58 AM
I love your writing. Your insight is always refreshing. Like most things in Baja, your berg will move at it's own pace.