NO ME OLVIDES (DON’T FORGET ME)
Originally Published the Week of Aug. 25, 2022 in Western Outdoor Publications
If you’ve ever driven down the Baja Peninsula or have or had the opportunity for that matter on any Mexican country highway, there is perhaps nothing more poignant then what you see on the side of the road.
Yes, if you’re not driving, stop checking your Facebook messages for a moment. Or stop taking selfies mugging for friends back home with the beer in your hand.
Plenty of time for that.
Look up. Look out.
Yes, you’re gonna see a lot of scrub brush. Cactus. Mountains or cliffs maybe in the distance. Crossing another dry arroyo. The Pacific or Sea of Cortez shimmering off the horizon.
No, look a little closer to the road.
Down there closer to the pavement zooming by or on the highway shoulder.
It’s a bit sobering. It might even make you put your beer down for a moment and give you pause.
And reflection.
After many years down here, nothing characterizes a Baja road more than the numerous crosses and shrines built next to the road.
Not the occasional burro. Not the occasional loncheria taco stand. Not the faded billboard for Tecate Beer. Not the dry desolation that looks like no one has ever been there.
Because, you see the markers and crosses and obviously, someone has indeed been there.
And then wasn’t. But someone is trying to remember.
They come in many shapes and sizes.
Some sit forlorn and forgotten.
Crude rusting metal. Blasted over the years by sun, wind and the other elements.
Crumbling wooden markers that are deteriorating and eroded by the arid Baja days and freezing nights.
Others are as elaborate or well-kept as if someone visits them regularly.
Mini concrete block sanctuaries adorned with candles and dusty plastic flowers. Perhaps a glass-framed painting of the Virgin Mary within.
Or a saint. A little raught-iron fence around it.
Or whitewashed rocks.
Others are built from the local stone of the area into little cairns or grottos. Perhaps a wooden name hammered on the front.
Some might have some special crucifix made by some skilled craftsman. Way back.
You might see a number of markers in a row. A family?
I have often been asked about them down here.
They are not grave markers although that is often the common sentiment among visitors. That can sometimes be confusing. The local name for them is “descansos.” (Resting place)
But, they do mark a spot where tragedy happened.
The story has it that originally, the practice of marking goes back to the days of the missionaries and conquistadors. It was a tough trail back then as they criss-crossed the continent for church, crown and gold.
They marked you where you fell. Then end of your personal trail in life.
So, originally, they truly were grave markers.
You were covered up and the explorers kept moving. The early pioneers, trappers, soldiers and settlers did the same in the U.S.
But modernly, the spots in Mexico don’t mark the spot of interment. Rather, they spiritually mark the spot where the “soul left the body.”
So, most often it’s a roadside accident.
And there are a lot of markers along the roads.
Mexican highways can be notorious for accidents. Poor construction such as lack of barriers or maintenance; inadequate grading; poor lighting; poor markings and signage have all contributed.
Animals such as goats, cows, burros and horses regularly cross highways. It is not uncommon for animals to sleep at night on the warm asphalt or gravel especially on colder desert nights.
Add to that the human factor. Actually it’s A LOT of human factor.
Simple bad driving. High speed. Alcohol. Bad judgement or a bad vehicle.
Living in Mexico, it’s a daily occurrence to see local folk who treat the road like their personal Hot Wheels track and most folks have never had a formal driving lesson. You pass the test, you get your card.
Heck, many folks I know do not even really have licenses.
Rules of the road are “self-regulated” and there are no infractions unless you get caught.
But as you travel, you see these memorials. The bottom of a curve. In the mountains. Rocky areas. Tricky turns.
All evident of a violent and untimely place where souls left their bodies.
Other times, there is no indication of what might have occurred on some long stretch of road. Perhaps someone just feel asleep. Perhaps an animal or another car.
Often the memorials are adorned with a mangled car door. Maybe the hubcaps or side view mirrors and debris from the vehicle.
To go along with the occasional wreath or flowers or glass candles. Or whatever creative construction has been erected by the survivors.
It’s a fascinating and reflective opportunity if you get the chance to stop to examine some of these memorials to lives suddenly ended.
Descansando en Paz…resting in peace.
Drive carefully yourself!
That’s My Story…
Jonathan
That's My Story 