Alamos-The Ancient Town

In southeastern Sonora is a very old city. Long before the now popular towns were even thought of, this was a thriving metropolis, capital of the states of Sonora and Sinaloa, and a large mining center with a mint to coin its silver. A people rich in money and proud in heritage created and built Alamos. The palatial dwellings dominated by the Moorish style of colonnaded verandas that face the streets and enclose the beautiful patios made and still makes Alamos the most interesting and lovely of all towns in Sonora.Alamos was a magnificent city in its day. Most of the buildings are still standing although many are in need of repair and some have completely disintegrated and returned to the earth. Here is a study in early Spanish colonial life. The modern world has had little influence upon the daily routine.

In the canyons, in the streets and plazas of Alamos are found many varieties of the wild fig. Several large and beautiful specimens are in the Alameda just across from the market where their dense shade makes a cool outdoor room that serves as quarters for the “refresquerias”. On hot days it is fun to come here and sip drinks made of syrups poured over shaved ice in tall glasses. This is a meeting place for little groups that always seem to gather in such pleasant places. The people of Alamos accept the wild fig as a part of their everyday living.

My introduction to this old Spanish town was through a friend, who has a home in Alamos and operates a mine near Piedras Verdes. I was a guest in his home for several weeks.

I was immediately given the task of general kitchen supervisor. It was more or less a jest but turned out to be an enlightening gesture of my host. My first trip to the market started about 7:30 A. M. To my surprise I found no meat, but supposed this was not the day they butchered. There was but one stand with vegetables and these looked like they were World War II surplus. I did manage to find a cabbage and returned home thinking I had surely arrived before the stalls had opened. I told my host about my trip to the market and he laughed and said, “By the time you had gotten there everything was sold. The time to market is between five and six.” Many items can be purchased at the door. Bread in various forms is brought oven fresh, usually in a basket but sometimes on a table which the merchant carries on his head. Eggs are brought by little children. One tiny girl never comes with more than three and often only one egg.

Spanish colonial architecture is indeed well adapted to living in this part of the land where much time is spent in the cool shade of the long verandas. The residence where I lived was built about one hundred and twenty-five years ago. It is in the form of an “L” with the porch on the inside of the letter. The rooms have seventeen foot ceilings and also the porch with its splendid arched supports. The doorways and windows are made alike except that the windows have a grill over them. This allows for toads, snakes, lizards and other things that keep close to the ground to enter one's room at will. The doors and windows are never closed at this time of the year unless one goes away for several days. The floors throughout the house are of red tile block about twelve inches square.

Housekeeping is a bit different here where a hose can be turned into any room, and by so doing cool the floor and the entire room for the rest of the day.

One of my pleasant pastimes was to try to hold in my mind each picture that was framed in classic elegance by the arches of the veranda. The finest view is at the end of the porch and through an unusually broad arch is a "sapote" tree, the home of Betito and Niña, who are two very pretty little parrots. They are bright green with red, white and blue on the tops of their heads. Niña is a baby of three weeks and has to be fed. Sometimes Betito takes pity on her and stuffs bits of food into her always open mouth.

In the foreground of this end arch is the dining table where we have all of our meals. Often at breakfast there is a cool breeze from the east and we say it comes from the high sierra over in Chihuahua. Hot muffins for breakfast are often made with the flour that the maid grinds in her mill she uses for the masa. To make the flour she cleans and washes the wheat, drys it in the sun and then parches it slightly. When cool it is then ground to the proper fineness. This is always a favorite bread flour at this house.

For lunch we sometimes have halves of papayas filled with sliced bananas and mangoes garnished with sprigs of mint that originally came from the home of Irvin S. Cobb. Then there are figs, avocados and pineapples and other fine fruits from ranches nearby or from sections a little farther south.

Sometimes at dinner, which is served just a bit after sunset, we have native foods made of corn, meat, and chili. And after the rains there are delicious wild greens that the maid cooks using masa and delicious chopped onions. Turning the corner of the porch, there are seven other views each different, each another part of Mexico. In the first is a plain bit of the adobe wall. Just beyond the wall can be seen the roof of the house of our neighbor, Pedro. Pedro often comes over to help with the yard work.

The gate that leads onto Calle Sonora is in the next archway. Its boards are gray with age and form a pleasant contrast with the red brick of the facing gate. Through the gate can be seen the sharply pitched thatched roof of the home of other neighbors. Frequently in the evenings we hear guitar music and laughter coming from this place.

There is a date palm with several bunches of fruit in the next archway. This tree is beside the driveway that leads from the house to the street. Two small orange trees are in the foreground.

Large mesquite trees are near the adobe wall. A few days ago a friend, Sr. Vega, and his four small boys came over and picked several sacks of beans from the mesquite trees to feed their goats. The mesquite bean has been a staple item of diet of the native people of this region and southwestern United States for centuries. They grind the beans and make a sort of bread that is baked in their outdoor ovens. However, Sr. Vega simply tosses the beans to his goats and they do the rest.

In the favorite arch with newcomers is a delightful bell. It is small and has a clapper made of an old key. The keys to these ancient houses in Alamos are extremely large and the locks they fit are very picturesque. The bell hangs from a chain in the center of the arch and when the wind blows sometimes there is the sound of wind voices made by the old key touching the sides. It is so very pretty.

Alamos, sometimes called the Taxco of Sonora, is a study in early Spanish colonial life. In its glorious past it was a great silver producing center, a city of culture and courtly ways of old Spain. Now its days of glory are only gentle memories.

The architecture of Alamos came from Spain and shows Moorish influences. It was admirably suited for the country.

Next is almost a complete arch and it is full of the most activity. Across the driveway is a low raised terrace. Here is the “pila” or swimming pool surrounded by a grove of papayas. The delicious melon-like fruit hang close to the giant stems underneath umbrellas of fantastic leaves. When the fruit is an even orange-yellow color it is ready to pick, and then we have little tropical feasts. Up above the green tops of the papayas is the great fan like wheel of the windmill. The slightest breeze keeps it turning and bringing to the surface the clear clean water which is a luxury here.Through the seventh arch I can see the turn in the driveway that makes the park for the truck. In the foreground is a large guamuchil tree and in May it is loaded with beans or pods that enclose a meaty covered seed. These seeds are greatly prized by all the folks here and even sold in the market. Every day children come with baskets or bags to pick up the beans that have fallen or to pull them off the branches with long poles. Then this tree is also the home of two beautiful Sheffler's Military macaws. These birds are natives of this region and make most interesting pets. Every morning they come down on the veranda and go to the kitchen door and call for their breakfast of masa. Often they come and sit on the back of a chair while we eat our meal. Their long tails are blue and rose, wings green and blue, head, shoulders, and breast green, cheeks a delicate pink with stripes of black, and then to add a note of contrast they wear bangs on their foreheads that are bright red. In the background of this scene is Alamos mountain where sunsets linger in the warm summer evenings.

Sometimes the sky is clear, sometimes full of white clouds and again when evening comes I have seen these same views change to shadows against a heaven of sudden bursts of flashing light when a storm was near.

Alamos is a quiet little town. In years past there were 15,000 people here but today there remains but a small fraction of this number. Silver created the wealth that made Alamos. Today there are few mines working. During the days of unrest and instability of the revolutions the mines were forced to close. Some of the people left the country never to return while others were killed or entered other business. There are many good mines near Alamos and some are well worth reopening.

Occasionally I go to the mine with my host and the trip is always interesting. One day we had just left the town and made a turn in the road when we had to stop.

Walking toward us were about twenty-five men, all in clean white clothes and carrying their hats. The man in the lead held a cross made of freshly cut wood. Then four or five men followed. The next six carried a coffin, homemade, covered with black crepe paper. Other men surrounded the coffin and trailed behind. This was a funeral procession on the way to the cemetery another four or five miles away.

When the first rains come in June the whole countryside suddenly blooms. All along the road to the mine the trees changed over night. From masses of gray-brown branches they became clumps and fluffs of many colors. There were dainty green-white tuffs of blossoms on sprigs of fern-like leaves beside towering stems of purple and yellow.

The mine was originally opened by the Jesuits in 1584 and continued under their supervision till they were expelled in 1768. When the Padres left they closed off the drifts and stopes that contained the best grade of ore and hid the surface opening as best they could. They hoped that in time they were to be allowed to return to Mexico and then they could again work the mine.

However, it was not until about 1900 that a Mexican by the name of Augustine Ortiz relocated the property with the aid of an old Spanish map. He went to New York to obtain machinery to work with when he suddenly died of a heart attack. The taxes were paid on the place for the next thirty-five years and then it went “caduca.” It reverted to the government. Ramon Vega, the present foreman, then took up the claim but one night his partner skipped out with their combined capital so the mine again went “caduca”.

Alamos, a city lost in the beauty of its own antiquity, is, nevertheless, the center of a rich and large trade in furs. The fur “king” is also the jumping bean “king.” This is Joaquin Hernandez, a young man who has built a flourishing business in this out of the way place.

Several tanneries supply the shoe factories with leather for the export trade in shoes. Saddles are also made in little shops where fine workmanship is placed above speed in production.

Alamos is an artist's dream. Fine old architecture is always the backdrop for scenes of laden burros or colorful girls carrying ollas on their heads. Memories of the past echo across cobbled stone streets for those who will listen and relive the life that was once glorious Alamos.