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Updated: May 19, 2025
They assured us that at Quezaltepec and Ixcuintepec it was surely raining heavily, and that the roads would be wet, slippery and impassable. Long before we went to bed, a gale was blowing and we felt doubts regarding further progress. In the morning it was still wet and chilly; all told of terrible roads and risks in proceeding; we delayed. Finally, we decided to press on at least to Ocotopec.
The town is purely Indian, and the type is the best we had seen. Had there been light for photographing, we should have stopped there and done our work, instead of passing on to Ixcuintepec. As it was, we spent the night, and were well treated. Leaving early in the morning, we hurried to Quezaltepec for dinner, the road being better than we had anticipated.
We had a letter of introduction from the cura at Juquila to the schoolteacher at Quezaltepec, and therefore rode directly to the school. The four boys who were in attendance were promptly dismissed and the maestro was at our disposition. He was a mestizo, and possessed the art of lying in a fine degree, like so many of his kind.
Passing Camotlan, we entered a magnificent gorge, along one side of which we climbed, passing in front of lovely cascades and having magnificent outlooks. While we were on this trail, we encountered the maestro from Ixcuintepec, who was on his way to Quezaltepec to spend his holiday. A whispered word with his half-brother, our companion, quickly changed his plan, and he accompanied us.
The Mixe villages are set upon the very crests, or upon little terraces a few hundred feet below the crest, or the summit of some spur that juts out from the great mountain mass, of a long and narrow ridge. The road from Juquila, by Ocotopec to Quezaltepec was beautiful and typical. The ascent, just before Quezaltepec, was magnificent.
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