Real de Catorce

An HSU student's rocky road to paradise

By Mary Ann Cruse

You know the feeling. You get out of the car or step off of the plane, and the first thing that comes to mind is awe. You look around at the unfamiliar surroundings, smell the exotic scents and listen to the foreign sounds amidst the new-to-you culture. It is sensational, it is peculiar, it is magic.

Usually when visitors travel to Mexico it is to explore the many wonderful tourist areas. It may be the beautiful beaches, deep-sea fishing, shopping for folk art or exploring the exotic metropolitan diversity. But when traveling to Real de Catorce, it is the magic.

When I went to Real de Catorce a few years ago, I had no idea were it was, what it would be like, or how long I would be gone. My travel companion happened to have a modest vacation house there and offered me a place to stay. It was far away, it was remote, and it was a step toward getting my life back together.

I was fleeing a 17-year relationship that had gotten rather rocky and dangerous. I needed a place to go, and I wanted to be as far away from my ex as possible. Real (pronounced ree-al) fit the bill. What I didn't know was Real de Catorce is a very special place, a magical place.

The magic is intangible. It may be because the terrain is a constantly changing palette of gray, coral, and purple hues caused by the shadows cast upon the mineral-rich bands on the sparsely vegetated mountains. The colors change like those in a lava lamp, slowly and fluidly. But it is only an illusion. Because it is a high desert, it is very dry. And as the temperatures increase, it gets that smoldering effect from the earth upward. You can see the movement of the dry air, like on black asphalt on a hot day.

The 19th century mining town sits on the Sierra de Catorce, one of the highest plateaus in Mexico -- about 9,000 feet above sea level. But it doesn't take long to reach 10,000 feet when meandering on one of the many hiking paths or horse trails. Maybe the high elevation plays with the mind. Perhaps that adds to the surreal feel of the Real de Catorce experience. The magic is probably why this was chosen as the perfect location for the Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts movie "The Mexican." The 100-year-old crumbling redbrick buildings and cobblestone streets were an ideal setting for this twisted, yet fun, surreal flick. But it must have been a chore getting all the movie set's supplies to the site.

"Many of the dilapidated homes were once palatial masions covered with stucco covering the now-exposed brick." photo by Mary Ann Cruse

There are several charming accommodations that add to the history and mystery of the area, as well as some excellent Epicurean establishments. There is not a lot of quantity of services, but some excellent quality -- such as dining at the fine Italian restaurant Eucolipto, where they would never rush away your unfinished flan.

If claustrophobic, the 1-1/2 mile dimly lit Oggario Tunnel is an extra adventure. The single-lane tunnel is the only way in or out of Real de Catorce by vehicle. There is a wider location in the middle that allows vehicles to pass in case of an emergency. The pullout also doubles as a place to park when lighting a candle in the small tunnel shrine. Because of the tight fit, bus passengers must transfer to a shuttle to continue on toward the light at the end of the tunnel. The trek is kept safe by tunnel-traffic controllers with phones, located at each end. While waiting, one can munch on prickly-pear cactus candy, sweetened maguey stem pieces or some other treat offered up by the small hands of the young vendors.

When the short, bumpy trip through the tunnel is completed, the magic begins. It is like being transported through a time machine. The town is unlike any I have ever seen. It is like entering a Mexican village 100 years ago. Although there is one telephone in the town and an occasional satellite dish, most of the surroundings are rustic and untouched by modern frills. The burros, horses, chickens, dogs and goats have the right-of-way. So instead of just looking both ways when you cross the street, be sure and look down as well.

Real de Catorce is located in the north-central region of the Mexican state San Luis Potosi. It's about a 10-hour drive south of the United States boarder -- crossing at Laredo, Texas -- and 6 hours north of Mexico City.

It is a do-able one-day drive from the United States, because the roads have improved as part of the North American Free Trade Agreement infrastructure requirement. But driving in Mexico is still a challenge, and it is essential to stay alert to make it to the intended destination in one piece. The free-range burros and cattle throughout the area can have quite an impact on a moving object. On a smaller scale, there are the occasional goat herds that pepper the roadside from Matehuala to the Real de Catorce turnoff.

Once your body is safely delivered to Real, the spirit will follow. Or maybe the spirit is already there. Thousands of people believe this as they make the annual pilgrimage to the church of San Francisco, built in Real de Catorce between 1783 and 1817. On Oct. 4, the saint's day, people from all over Mexico gather at the neo-classical church to pray to the large, reputedly miraculous statue of St. Francis of Assisi. It is said that people who have prayed to the statue have been able to see again or had a loved one healed -- typical miracle stuff.

I love old churches and cathedrals, and have been in more than 100 of them throughout the United States, Mexico and Italy. But as I approached the beautiful blue-domed church in Real de Catorce, I felt something magical. As I looked past the vendors selling religious souvenirs (Madonna on a rope, crucifixes, etc.) and walked through the massive wooden doorway, I felt a warm glow -- within my abdominal area, to my heart, up the back of my neck, and across my scalp. At this point I had heard nothing about the history of the church or reported miracles.

Priests are buried below the floor of the church, and the lids of their coffins comprise the wooden floor. On the December afternoon I was there, it was quite cold. Because of that, the church was almost empty -- very still, very quiet. I saw a door to the left with the word "salida" above it and ventured forth. This is when I learned of the miracles. The walls were covered with exvotos, which are basically thank you notes to God. The enormous room was wallpapered with recent photos and drawings, old-painted pieces of tin (about a foot in length, some dated in the 1800s), letters, and graduation certificates. The colors varied, but they were mostly bright. The warmth filled my body again. I felt great peace as I looked over this vast evidence of faith.

The other church is across town and is about a 15-minute walk. The Pantheon is the oldest church in town and the location of the cemetery. It was a beautiful visual contrast. The evening sky silhouetted the white church against the cross-laden yard and the charcoal-gray striped hills in the background. Maguey and prickly-pear cactus added dimension to the eerie calmness that greeted me.

As I walked on the stepping stones toward the church, I felt like I was walking on sponges -- soft on every step. All of my senses were sharp and everything looked incredibly beautiful. I had black-and-white film in my camera and finished off the roll before very long. I thought to myself, This is exactly where I am supposed to be. I was at a point in my life where I needed some peace. I needed to find some faith. I needed to find me again.

This Maguey man is part of a culture that has thrived in the high desert climate of Real de Catorce. photo by Mary Ann Cruse

Peyote is also used by a few of the local artisans, who comprise about 5 percent of the 1,000 or so full-time residents of Real de Catorce. Most of the artists have made the move -- from Switzerland, Germany, Argentina, France, Italy, Spain and the United States -- and there are several galleries in town that display some of the magnificent local artwork. Behind the unobtrusive wooden doors are some very kind and talented people. I was fortunate to meet and break bread with some of the local folk, who made me feel very grateful and welcome.

Luckily for this ill-prepared gringa, most of the transplants to the area speak English. During the time I was there, there was a Swiss school in Real with four or five students -- ranging from ages 5 to 9. They only spoke Swiss or English in class.

The foreign influence not only adds diversity to the local culture, but it also helps change the local architecture. Many of the dilapidated homes were once palatial mansions with stucco covering the now-exposed brick. The renovated residences are being built as close to their original condition as possible. Although some of the abandoned homes appear to be nothing more than piles of brick and stone, beneath them lie the floor plans of the original structure. From there the homeowners put the pieces of the puzzle together, one stone and one brick at a time.

The original development of Real dates back to 1773, when silver was discovered in the surrounding mountains. It is estimated that 40,000 people lived there during the peak mining years in the early 1900s. It was a multi-cultural mix then as well -- with Spaniards, Mestizos, Creoles and Indians. The thriving city had consisted of traders, miners, retailers, dukes and counts. Because of the 1910 Mexican Revolution and a drop in the price of silver in the 20th century, the town was all but abandoned. Many of the structures still stand. But all of them have weathered, and many have lost their graceful form.

The ground is level downtown, which perfectly suits the covered street bazaar. This is a great place to stroll and enjoy the local arts and crafts, jewelry, clothing and food products. The hilly terrain is great for hiking around from shop to shop. I got a great workout without even leaving the town. To get the best overall experience though, head out of town.

There are incredible hiking trails all over the ridge. One of my favorite hikes descends from Real de Catorce to the smaller town of Los Catorce, which is near the valley floor. Here lies an underground river, creating an oasis in the otherwise arid environment. Another trail leads through Real de Catorce, past the dilapidated bull-fighting ring, beyond the Pantheon, across the high desert, and eventually ends up miles below in the expansive, flat desert.

For me, Real de Catorce was magic. I had met some wonderful people. I was with a good friend that cared about my well being. And most importantly, I began to care about my own well being again. To someone else, Real may be stark and boring. It really is "through the eyes of the beholder." Although I was only there for a few weeks, I took a part of Real and its people home with me -- in my heart and in my memories.

Seeing "The Mexican" the other night made me want to go back -- this time to share this special place with my husband, whom I met several months after my return from Real de Catorce. He has only seen the tourist side of Mexico.

Since I left Real de Catorce my life has continued to get better and more balanced. I have love in my life. I have faith in my life. I have a great life. Maybe it is good luck. Or maybe, just maybe, it's magic.