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INSTITUTE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY PUBLICATION NO. 6 



is it difficult to get passage to Patzcuai-o. The 

 new truck, one would think, would be welcomed 

 by everyone. But no, that is not the reaction 

 at all. Immediately the gossip begins to run. 

 "Jose has a new truck. I hope it breaks down. 

 Why should he have a truck?" Nobody sees the 

 great collective value to the community to have 

 its own transportation, no longer to be depend- 

 ent on the busses. 



It is as if the town's malice is, in some way, 

 communicated to the battered truck and its 

 driver. Jose never has driven a car, and has 

 only the barest knowledge of how it is done. 

 One of the truck drivers working with the high- 

 way repair crew offers to give him a few les- 

 sons. Jose is insulted. Is it thought that he is 



when fires sometimes are lighted in fields to 

 burn off stubble. Occasionally these fires creep 

 into neighboring forests, and much valuable 

 timber is destroyed. Looking across the lake, 

 for several nights we have seen fires burning on 

 the slopes of Zirate and other lesser hills. But 

 that is the worry of the people in Santa Fe and 

 Quiroga. Those hills are nothing to us. 



But now the picture has changed. A fire is 

 seen only a couple of kilometers away, on the 

 slopes of Tariaqueri. This is serious business. 

 Eleuterio is badly upset. "Already we don't 

 have enough firewood, and each year we must 

 go farther to get it for our kilns. Now this fire 

 comes along and makes it even more difficult," 

 'Why don't you do something about it, Eleute- 



not able to drive? Must he, the owner, ask a rio?" I ask. "It's the responsibility of the pres- 



mere chauffeur to show him how to handle his 

 property? Jose climbs in the driver's seat, 

 studies the instrument panel, makes several ad- 

 justments, and steps on the starter. The car 

 backs against an adjacent adobe wall, knock- 

 ing several loose pieces onto the truck bed. 

 Jose again makes the adjustments, the truck 

 lurches forward in a series of faltering jerks, 

 and then comes to a dead halt. Jose tries again, 

 but nothing he can do will persuade the truck 

 to move. It remains there, all day, on one side 

 of the road. Next day the hood is up, and I 

 note that the carburator is out, disassembled, 

 and spread out in the sun beside the house. 

 "It's weak," explains Jose to the spectators. "I'm 

 putting it in the sun to charge itself." Several 

 days later the ill-fated vehicle disappears. "The 

 tires were no good," apologizes Jose, "and on 

 account of the war I can't get new ones. I had 

 to send it to Morelia to be put in storage until 

 I can get more tires." Jose is embittered by the 

 experience, the townspeople are saying, "I told 

 you so," and marketeers continue to stand in 

 the highway and watch the loaded busses pass 

 them by. 



XIII. 



"Let the other fellow do it" might almost 

 be the motto of Tzintzuntzan. Nobody is will- 

 ing to take any responsibility upon himself, 

 and everybody is afraid that he might, for the 

 common good, work a little harder than the 

 next person. It is the month of March, a time 



ident of the Comunidad Indigena," he replies 

 indignantly. "If he won't do it, much less me." 

 Jesiis Molinero wonders out loud why the 

 president has not organized a party of men to 

 put out the fire. Since the fire has just appear- 

 ed, it is suggested that maybe the president does 

 not know about it yet. "Jesiis, why don't you 

 go and tell him?" But Jesiis does not have 



time 



Old Don Bernardino Farias speculates as to 

 who may have been careless with his milpa. 

 Unlike the others, he is not upset. He has seen 

 this happen many times before. "It will burn 

 until it burns itself out," he announces. And 

 time proved that he was right. And he, and 

 Eleuterio, and Jesiis, and the hundreds of others 

 who saw the fire, have even less wooded land 

 from which to take their firewood. 



XIV. 



There is great consternation in town. The 

 water pump in Ojo de Agua has broken down, 

 this time permanently. The water taps are dry, 

 and one must go on foot to the springs to bring 

 drinking water. During the past weeks there 

 have been short intervals without water, but Don 

 Pancho now announces that the pump is worn 

 out beyond repair. There is great indignation. 

 How can the Government allow such things? 

 Wlio will repair the pump? The toilet seats at 

 the school are covered with burlap sacking, and 

 the children retire to the bushes at the rear of 

 the yard for their necessities. Continually one 



