“Lovebirds” Photo by Carla DeMarco

Last spring, our second in Southern New Mexico, my wife and I discovered that this part of the country has the most shameless bunch of birds we have ever seen. I mean, it’s disgraceful!

They sing all day, sometimes even into the night, and they want us to think they are a charming delight, but we know what they’re really up to. It’s caboodling. That’s what they’re really up to. Birds can’t outsmart us!

I don’t know which species is the most disgraceful. 

The white wing dove, old "Johnny one note," may be the most persistent. All day long, these birds perch on power lines, fences,  roofs and tree branches, and they call out to each other, over and over and over. Occasionally, they pair up and fly away together, right out in the open, where anyone can see them, with the "C" word on their minds.

The mockingbirds are a sight, too. They not only embarrass us with those libidinous avian operatic voices, they stake out a territory and lay claim to it like they were in the California gold rush. Heaven help you if you’re a cat! Those mockingbirds not only cut up and carry on in public, they chase cats. 

The house finches, which look as if they stuck their heads in a bucket of red paint, try to imitate the mockingbirds’ song.  It’s not easy to mock a mockingbird. These little guys have a strange role model. If I sat in a tree and whistled at every lady bird around and chased after cats, my face would be red, too. 

I guess my candidate for the most scandalous bird of them all, though, is the boat-tail grackle. (Heavens, I’m almost embarrassed to say the name.) They not only broadcast their intentions with an astounding array of lascivious noises, sounding like an audio tape run backwards, they strut and stretch and display themselves like they were something special. But even the mockingbird is more respected. Could you imagine a song called "Listen to the Boat-tail Grackle," or a novel named "To Kill a Boat-tail Grackle?"

I know that by this time, you must be terribly concerned and asking anxiously what we can do about all this. Well, I have several suggestions. 

First, we have to form a committee. Anyone knows you can’t do anything without a committee. Washington has taught us that.

Next, I think we should all write letters to our local newspapers and complain right out in public about the behavior of these birds. That will undoubtedly line up wide support.

Then, I think we should write letters to the mayors and the city councils and encourage, no, demand!, that they pass ordinances against such bird behavior. That should take care of it.

If we don’t do something, we’ll have to put up with the scandalous sights and sounds of these caboodling birds again next spring here in Southern New Mexico. 

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Las Cruces, NM. Photo courtesy Las Cruces Convention and Visitors Bureau

Tucked into the southern Rio Grande Valley, with the jagged Organ Mountains rising to the east, Las Cruces is the second largest city in New Mexico, the seat of Doña Ana County, and home to the nation’s only Chile Institute. This clean, modern metropolis with a population of 72,000 bears many architectural reminders of its rich Spanish heritage.

Las Cruces first saw Spanish explorers around 1535. Four hundred years ago, members of the Juan de Oñate expedition refreshed themselves in its verdant valleys before embarking on a shortcut to northern New Mexico so treacherous it became known as the Journey of Death, or Jornada del Muerto. The name Las Cruces means "The Crosses" and refers to the graves of travelers who met with the wrath of Apaches.

The westward frontier expansion from 1850 – 1875 wrought destruction on Native Americans living in the new outposts of civilization. As Apache tribes diminished and the railroad was constructed, Las Cruces’ population began to flourish.

Today’s Las Cruces is a bustling center of education, culture and trade. New Mexico State University boasts one of the nation’s largest campuses and planetary observatories. The Doña Ana Community College, Troy State University, and International Business College are located in the greater Las Cruces area.

The New Mexico State University Museum, Las Cruces Museum of Natural History and Gadsden Museum offer fascinating exhibits. NMSU hosts concerts, symphonies, theater and art exhibits. Las Cruces is home to the Chamber Ballet, Rite Combination Dance Company, Doña Ana Repertory Theater, Branigan Cultural Center, and many fine galleries. Seven convention facilities and 31 hotels offer business travelers facilities to meet every need

In the town of La Mesilla, historic Old Mesilla with its narrow streets, charming town square and plaza, and double-spired San Albino Church, provides a relaxing and singular shopping and dining experience. Southwestern art, ethnic clothing, jewelry, books, freshly made chocolates, and a myriad of hand-crafted items beckon from shop windows. Restaurants offer a variety of fine foods. The Gadsden Museum provides a look at the last century, and at the old haunted house, visitors hope to see a ghost. In the evening, local cantinas come alive with rock, blues and salsa. During the colorful fiestas of Cinco de Mayo and Diez y Seis de Septiembre, mariachis and ballet folklorico dancers perform on the plaza.

The Farmers’ and Crafts’ Market features artwork, Native American crafts and spicy southwestern foods. Landmarks, historic sites, golf courses and parks also await discovery.

At 3,900 feet, Las Cruces boasts a temperate climate and low annual rainfall that combine to offer year-round outdoor fun. Within short distances, visitors can venture to the White Sands National Monument, Picacho Peak, Aguirre Springs Recreation Area, Burn Lake, the Butterfield Trail loop tour, El Paso, Texas and Juarez, Mexico.

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Imagine this staggering grocery list: 750 pounds of stone ground corn, 175 gallons of vegetable oil, 75 gallons of red chile, 175 pounds of grated cheese, and 50 pounds of onion. Well, chile lovers, this is what it takes to conjure up the world’s largest enchilada, which you can watch being prepared and then devour at the culmination of The Whole Enchilada Festival (TWEF) on Sunday, October 3 in the Las Cruces Downtown Mall.

The festival is New Mexico’s 4th largest tourist event; it attracts more than 70,000 merry-makers. TWEF fun commences Friday, October 1, 1999 at 6 p.m. and runs through Sunday, October 3. This family affair includes a midway carnival, a parade, youth shows, boxing, live music – 20 bands and solo musicians, mariachis, a roving magician, street dancers, and countless vendors – arts and crafts, apparel, and authentic Mexican foods – more enchiladas, gorditas, tacos, flautas, and sopaipillas. It’s your chance to appreciate and savor Southern New Mexico’s unique food and culture.

The highlight for this chile aficionado is when Chef Roberto Estrada, "Mr. Enchilada," rustles up the colossal enchilada that takes two-and-a-half hours and a crew of 14 to put together. Elephantine equipment (engineered by Estrada himself) is used to create the delicious savory: a giant tortilla press (two plates heated to 550 degrees), a hot plate to hold the finished "corny" tortillas (each of which weighs 65 pounds), and a 150 gallon oil vessel heated by 37 propane gas burners. Ten feet across, the serving plate requires 10 brawny people to handle.

Estrada, a native of Mesilla and a graduate of Las Cruces High School, tackles this annual feat with practiced elan. The 60-year-old community-spirited chef began pressing corn tortillas at age 15 in a Mesilla tortilla factory where he worked for 15 years before striking out on his own. In 1968, Estrada bought an old tortilla factory (908 E. Amador) and christened it New Mexican Mexican Foods, where knee-weakening aromas pervade to this day. Then, to satisfy Las Cruces’ Mexican food fetish, he opened a restaurant next door, the now famous Roberto’s, where wife Sylvia and sons Ronnie and Chris, and daughter Yvette create some of the best Mexican cuisine north of the border, including red enchiladas, of course. Other favorites are flautas, gorditas, beans, spicy hot tamales, tasty sauces, jumbo breakfast burritos, puffy sopaipillas drizzled with lip smackin’ honey, and on and on. A drive through window keeps the place hopping both inside and out and my red chile fixation pacified.

Home chefs can create their own red chile sauce using this simple recipe: Rinse 10-12 dried red chiles with cool water. Place pods in a Dutch oven and cover with water. Cover and boil about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool. Drain. Remove stems and slice chiles lengthwise, removing seeds, course pulp and veins. Place chiles in a blender with a pinch or two of cumin and Mexican oregano. Add water as necessary and blend to create a delectable spicy-rich sauce that adds zip to favorite dishes.

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Ballet Folklorio dancer at Cinco de Maya Festival in Mesilla, New Mexico

Hispanic currents flow through the history and culture of Las Cruces and Mesilla like the Rio Grande flows through the fields and arid pasturelands of these adjoining valley communities.

Spanish-speaking conquistadores and colonists left their tracks and bones along the sandy river bottoms more than four centuries ago.  Northern New Mexico’s Spanish-speaking settlers, uprooted by the Mexican/American conflict of the late 1840s, rebuilt their lives at Las Cruces and Mesilla, constructing community, churches and homes along the riverbanks.  Their descendants, along with more recent Spanish-speaking settlers, now serve in local political offices; work in local businesses, industries and professions; study at the local university and colleges; and teach in the local schools.

And they celebrate their Hispanic heritage, bent through the prism of Mexican history.

They gather three times each year in the traditional Spanish-style plaza in Mesilla to remember Mexico’s most important national holidays, Cinco de Mayo (the Fifth of May), Diez y Seis de Septiembre (the Sixteenth of September) and Dias de los Muertos (Days of the Dead).

The Cinco de Mayo celebration commemorates the day in 1862 that Mexican troops, under famed Mexican General Ignacio Zaragoza, inflicted a humiliating defeat on a French expeditionary force of 6,500 soldiers at the city of Puebla, some 60 miles southeast of Mexico City.

Dancing with "Death" at the Dias de los Muertos celebration in Mesilla,
New Mexico

Diez y Seis de Septiembre celebrations recall the day in 1810 that firebrand priest Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla issued his famous grito – a call to revolution – from the pulpit of his church in Dolores, near Guanajuato, igniting the Mexican overthrow of Spanish rule.

The Cinco de Mayo and Diez y Seis de Septiembre events both infuse the old Mesilla plaza with a tide of vibrant color, the smell of chili con queso and burritos and tamales, the rhythms of Spanish-speaking voices, the laughter of boisterous children, and the music and song and dance of Mexico.

Youngsters line up to take turns swinging sticks at huge piñatas, which are suspended and festooned ceramic vessels which will rain down candies and toys when broken.  It is a custom taken from the Indians, whose children swung their own sticks at suspended treasure-laden ceramic vessels long before Columbus turned up at San Salvador.

Adult and children’s dance groups, gaily dressed, perform the ballet folkloricos, or Mexico’s regional folk dances – the dignified polkas and chotis’ of Northern Mexico, the flirtatious "Mexican hat dance" of Jalisco, the stately choreography of Michoacan, the ancient "Dance of the Deer" of Sonora, the flamenco style zapateados of Veracruz.

The Dia de los Muertos (November 1st, All Saints Day, and November 2nd, All Souls Day) ceremonies and customs connect the living to the dead, becoming a celebration of the past lives of relatives, friends and national heroes.  It is a bittersweet, distinctively Mexican festival with roots in both prehistoric Indian ritual and the Roman Catholic church. Families gather at cemeteries to tend and decorate the graves of deceased relatives, leaving bouquets of flowers and ofrendas (offerings) of favored foods and drinks.  In expectation of visits by the spirits of the dead, they set up altars in their homes, decorating them with lost relatives’ photographs, papel picado (elaborate paper cutouts), toy skeletons, sugar candy skulls, foods, drinks, burning incense, and marigold blossoms (the Aztecs’ symbolic flower of death).  Finally, they celebrate death, joyfully, with costume, music, dance and fireworks.

Mariachis playing at a Hispanic festival in Las Cruces, New Mexico

Later in the fall, Las Cruces hosts what has become one of the largest events of its kind, an annual international conference for Mariachis, musicians who have blended the melodies and song of 16th, 17th and 18th century Spanish theater with the tunes and rhythms of ageless Africa into a sound which seems to rise from the Mexican soil. The Mariachis wear the Mexican cowboy’s, or charro’s, waist length jacket, tight fitting pants with boots, ornamented with embroidery and silver. With violin, trumpet, guitar and voice, they turn the feet of young and old to dance. The Mariachis define the joyous regions of Mexico’s soul.

In Las Cruces and Mesilla, Cinco de Mayo, Diez y Seis de Septiembre and Dias de los Muertos are not holidays, so the events are usually celebrated on the weekends preceding May 5, September 16, and November 1 and 2.  Las Cruces’ annual international Mariachi conference is usually held in early to mid-November.

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Site of La Cueva (The Cave) near Las Cruces.  Photo by Bob Dickerson

During a recent trip to Las Cruces I visited one of the local archeological sites, one which I later discovered was also the site of an unsolved murder dating to 1869. This place is called "La Cueva," The Cave.

Taking University Avenue east out of Las Cruces, it will turn into Dripping Springs Road by the New Mexico Farm & Ranch Heritage Museum. The road climbs steadily for the entire 11-1/2 miles, and it is paved for the first 5 or 6 miles. It turns into a dusty washboard road about a car and a half wide, then back into a paved road shortly before reaching the cattle guard and swinging yellow gate that make up the entrance to Dripping Springs. This area is in the care of the Bureau of Land Management and is manned by some kindly retired folks who volunteer their time and knowledge.

Not too far past the entry gate, looking to the left you’ll see a sign indicating a picnic area down off of the main road a bit. Follow that road and you’ll end up in a paved parking area at the foot of the Organ Mountains. Directly in front of the parking lot is a massive sand colored wedge of a rock. Look at the highest point on this rock, then follow the vertical crack that runs from just left of the peak down the face to near ground level. There you’ll see the black, almost square entrance to La Cueva.

Excavation in the 1940s tied this site to the Jornada branch of the prehistoric Mogollon culture. It’s also common knowledge that this area was the frequent stomping grounds of 18th and 19th century paches, so most likely they were aware of the shelter provided by La Cueva as well. It was during the 1860s that La Cueva became home to one of the more obscure characters in New Mexico history, an individual by the name of Agostini-Justiniani, "El Ermitano" . . . the Hermit.

Information on Agostini is hard to come by, but he is thought to have been born in 1800 to Italian nobility and to have studied for the priesthood, but he refused his vows. He spent considerable time walking through Europe, Mexico, South America and Cuba. At the age of 62 this fellow walked with the wagon train of Euginio Romero, from Kansas to Las Vegas, New Mexico, a distance of roughly 600 miles. He lived awhile in Romeroville before winding up on Cerro Tecolote, locally known as Hermits Peak, northwest of LasVegas. He struck up an acquaintance with the Penitentes and got along well with them. The Penitentes believed in the hermit’s healing powers and sanctity, and on Easter a "Sociedad Del Ermitano" still makes rosaries of native plants to honor his memory.

In 1867 Agostini headed to Mesilla, a distance of about 250 miles, to seek advice on a legal matter with Colonel Albert Fountain. He then walked 530 miles to San Antonio, Texas, then back to a cave near Juarez, Mexico, another 500-odd miles. It’s amazing to think that a lone individual at that age, during what were less than peaceful times in New Mexico, could cover such distances on foot.

In 1869 he spent time on the Old Mesilla Plaza visiting with the Barela family, sometimes preaching in their home. He told them of his plan to live at La Cueva. The Barela family, and probably anyone who had the opportunity to do so, warned him of the danger of living out there alone. He answered their concerns, saying "I shall make a fire in front of my cave every Friday evening while I shall be alive. If the fire fails to appear, it will be because I have been killed. I shall bless you daily in my prayers."

One Friday night in the spring of 1869 the Barela’s fears were realized when the usual fire failed to appear. Antonio Garcia led a group up the mountain to find the Hermit lying face down on his crucifix with a knife in his back. He was wearing his penitential "metal girdle full of spikes."

El Ermitano is buried in the Mesilla Cemetery with the following Spanish inscription, "John Mary Justiniani, Hermit of the Old and New World." He died the 17th of April, 1869, at 69 years and 49 years a hermit."

You have to spend some time to ponder the difficulties brought on by everyday living at La Cueva. The insects are unrelenting, the terrain unforgiving, but as with many places in New Mexico, the harsh beauty and serenity that existed then still exist today, virtually unchanged. If you take the time, you may see and feel what attracted "El Ermitano" and others to this place.

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