ON THE HIGH PLAINS OF NORTHERN CHIHUAHUA, Mexico, a crumbling village lies ar the base of a notched peak called El indio. The village, much longer than ir is wide, stretches between the Palanganas, a branch of the Casas Grandes River, and the abandoned Chihuahua Al Pacifico Railroad. The plaster peels from low rectangular buildings across from the old railroad sration. Adobe bricks show through, disfiguring the painted advertising of former stores and cabarets. Lirtle trace is left of the huge hunber mili that once made the village a boom town. The railroad repair yard that serviced the rolling stock for a vast nerwork of northern Chihuahuan trains is also gone. Cattle graze beyond the single line of tracks, somertimes wandering across into the dusty streets of the village. A first glance suggests a place with a past but no future.
ON THE HIGH PLAINS OF NORTHERN CHIHUAHUA, Mexico, a crumbling village lies ar the base of a notched peak called El indio. The village, much longer than ir is wide, stretches between the Palanganas, a branch of the Casas Grandes River, and the abandoned Chihuahua Al Pacifico Railroad. The plaster peels from low rectangular buildings across from the old railroad sration. Adobe bricks show through, disfiguring the painted advertising of former stores and cabarets. Lirtle trace is left of the huge hunber mili that once made the village a boom town. The railroad repair yard that serviced the rolling stock for a vast nerwork of northern Chihuahuan trains is also gone. Cattle graze beyond the single line of tracks, somertimes wandering across into the dusty streets of the village. A first glance suggests a place with a past but no future.
Original Title
Walter Parks -The Miracle of Mata Ortiz -Fragmento
ON THE HIGH PLAINS OF NORTHERN CHIHUAHUA, Mexico, a crumbling village lies ar the base of a notched peak called El indio. The village, much longer than ir is wide, stretches between the Palanganas, a branch of the Casas Grandes River, and the abandoned Chihuahua Al Pacifico Railroad. The plaster peels from low rectangular buildings across from the old railroad sration. Adobe bricks show through, disfiguring the painted advertising of former stores and cabarets. Lirtle trace is left of the huge hunber mili that once made the village a boom town. The railroad repair yard that serviced the rolling stock for a vast nerwork of northern Chihuahuan trains is also gone. Cattle graze beyond the single line of tracks, somertimes wandering across into the dusty streets of the village. A first glance suggests a place with a past but no future.
ON THE HIGH PLAINS OF NORTHERN CHIHUAHUA, Mexico, a crumbling village lies ar the base of a notched peak called El indio. The village, much longer than ir is wide, stretches between the Palanganas, a branch of the Casas Grandes River, and the abandoned Chihuahua Al Pacifico Railroad. The plaster peels from low rectangular buildings across from the old railroad sration. Adobe bricks show through, disfiguring the painted advertising of former stores and cabarets. Lirtle trace is left of the huge hunber mili that once made the village a boom town. The railroad repair yard that serviced the rolling stock for a vast nerwork of northern Chihuahuan trains is also gone. Cattle graze beyond the single line of tracks, somertimes wandering across into the dusty streets of the village. A first glance suggests a place with a past but no future.
N T H E HI GH I'LA I NS OF NORTHERN CHI H UAHUA, Mexico, a
crumbli ng village lies ar the base of a notc hed peak called El indio. The village, much longer rhan ir is widc, stretches between the Palan- gan as, a brancb of the Casas Grandes River, and the abandoned Chihuahua Al Pacifico Railroad. The plaster peels from low rectangular buildings across from tbe old railroad sration. Adobe bricks show through, disfiguring tbe painted advertising of former stores and cabarets. Lirtle trace is left of the huge hunber mili that once made the village a boom rown. The railroad repair yard tbat serviced the rolling stock for a vasr nerwork of northern Chihuabuan trains is also gone. Cattle gr aze beyond the single line of rracks, somerimes wandering acr oss into the dusty streets of the village. A first glance suggests a place with a past but no future. H owever, a second look reveals signs of something else. A few of the houses ha ve new plaster covering rhe old adobe. WaiJs ha ve been repaired and additions made. A new house sta nds along the back street next to the river. T he interior of this house has plasterboa rd walls, acoustical ceilings, and a kitchen tha t looks like it was ordered from a Sears catalog. The you ng man who lives here with his wife and childre n makes a living creating th in-walled bowls and jars, decorating them with delica tely paintcd red and black designs. Matuo Quezada is a second-generation poner who has never had any other occupation. H e a nd his wo rk a re examples of a ceramic art mo vement tha t blust forth in recent yea rs in the ha lf-forgotten vi llage of Mata O rtiz on the remote plains of what the Mexicans cal! El Norte. Matuo was a tiny baby when his uncle, Juan Quezada, began to make pottery. Since his own childhood, Ju an had been experimenting with day and colors. His only teachers were rhe prehistoric pottery shards he found on the ground while gathering firewood. He stuffed these beautifully paint ed little pieces in bis pockets and wondered ::1bour the ancient people who made them. l.f these long-vanished artists could make such beauti fui objects, there must be clay somewhere nearby in rhe mounrains, plains, or arroyos. Eventually, he found it in all those places. He brought the clay home, mixed it with water, and tried to make little pots. But he failed. He rried again and failed. The bottoms were not right; the clay cracked; the painr would not stick; and there was no
