Julian Lynch, Yawning

Unpacking from Deep México is hard. For a moment there, you think time ticked slower, the sun rose as if it were yawning from a good night sleep.

Tolimán in Querétaro is a few miles away from Bernal. You could say is on the path to the Franciscan Missions in the Sierra Gorda yet, getting there is complicated enough for a Mexican who understands the hidden perils of the country.

My first impressions of Tolimán are that to the disgrace of the weaving hands of the women and men that live upon their handcrafts, there has been a number of prior projects that have abused their prices per item and either received no pay, nor any kind of recognition of their valuable work.

I can see the structures that have played against them, stacked always against them. I can see them wearing their traditional gala outfits, becoming suddenly famous with a few clicks of the cameras and the media... Then after the hype is gone, left back to oblivion, completely on their own, wondering where did their handcrafts go, why didn't they get paid what was promised or how is it that fame will give their kids to eat, or buy their shoes for school.

I saw the face of deceit. Women thinking this is no longer a way of living, tired of bargains from rich women coming with their big cars and asking if their prices can be lowered so they can sell them to their rich friends for thousands of pesos, even hundreds of dollars.

I can see the pain of years on their hands, they not only create poetry by the shapes they weave, but when there is no money, they go to the fields of Tequisquiapan and plant tomatoes from the early sunrise to the late evening, leaving those little ones they care the most, back home, where other things happen while no supervision is present.

The least of the evils is what I saw this weekend. It is understanding life this way. Acquiring certain mistrust for everything that comes from the outside: students, missionaries, new governments, even from those who they live with.

Women being on their own, as the cliché persists in these mountains. Men crossing deserts, risking their lives towards the U.S. (around 4000 USD paid to the polleros), and finally if they make it to any state, earning around 600 USD a month on the construction sites, living as an American for a number of years. Sending back 300 USD to their families but then finding the new way of life more seductive than the one they had. Sending less and less money to their families, then none at all.

This project is not easy. At all. It weights upon you. While the responsibility of sustainability is key, the sustainability of Hope and real Change is what really matters.