Ruins at the Ruina

Every time I've taken the bus on the toll road to the coast, when we pass by the outskirts of the mountain town of Ixtlan del Rio, I've noticed the sign that points toward "Ruina". That's all it says," Ruina", a blur seen from the bus window.

That little sign was enough to make me want to see the ruins. I've been to Guachimontones in Teuchitlan and to the Palacio de Ocomo in Oconahua several times. These sites are a short drive from home, either direction. Both are fascinating places that fill my imagination with the lives of people of an earlier time.

Last year I'd shared my desire to see the Ixtlan del Rio archeological digs with Jim, who has been there, as well as many archeological sites all over Mexico and Central America. He promised we'd go this year.

We did. We went. We took off from Etzatlan very early in the morning, hoping to beat the heat of late afternoon. In our desire to make the trip, a minimum of two hours, even more delightful, we determined to take back roads getting there and coming home.

We headed due west through several small villages, on a narrow road that was gravel a mere five years ago, climbing all the way. In Amitlan de Cana we stopped for breakfast/lunch in a café along the Plaza.

I am not fluent in Spanish, to my shame, having lived in Mexico thirteen years. Too many people speak English, making it easy for me to slack off. I can make myself understood in most situations. I took online classes for a short while and then got lazy. Recently, my shame got strong enough to urge me to search for a better lingo class, so I'm back in school. I've been studying short lessons, not every day, but, I'm happy to brag that I asked directions, along with other opportunities to use Spanish, with confidence and more understanding than in my past.

We only got mixed up a little making our way out of Amitlan de Cana and back onto the road up into and over the high mountains and down into Ixtlan del Rio, from a direction that took us wandering through town streets until we found the way to the ruins.

When I describe Jim and I as "ruins at the ruins", I mean that we are well matched as traveling companions. I have a gimpy hip on one side and many-times repaired knee on the other side so I use a cane as a constant third leg. I get by, slow and steady. Jim has COPD, making frequent stops to rest and breathe.

I won't try to describe the ruins. They are better explained, with photos, in articles online. Each location I've visited is of a civilization from a different time, with different ways of life, and of setting up their administration buildings, homes, and places of commerce, worship and burial. I see differences and I see similarities. Much of it is not different from our own daily lives.

Jim and I spent several hours at the ruins, wandering around the restored structures, stopping frequently to sit on benches and to imagine the men, women and children of the past going about their daily lives, working, bartering, playing.

Jim is a great companion for visiting ruins, simply because he can make comparisons of the structures in Ixtlan del Rio with his knowledge of other ruins throughout Mexico.

The sun was heading toward the west when we finally hit the road for home, heading east, this time taking the back road down the high mountains into Magdalena, a small town close to home, famous for opal mines, where we stopped at the first well-shaded street stand for tacos and pozole.

Thank you, Jim. What a day. I had a great time. I am still smiling at the memories.

My friend heads home for Missouri tomorrow morning. We talked about where to go next year, the Good Lord willing and the creek don't rise.

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Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton's essays and other work at

http://montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com/.

Email sondrajean.ashton@yahoo.com.