ROAMING THROUGH THE ALLEYWAYS

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In a town in Las Huastecas, a region of Pre-Hispanic Mexico, at the beginning of the last century it had an alley among its “urban weft” that had enormous popularity throughout the Veracruz region because it had a double name.

It was a alley to walk, like any other, but with that characteristic that made it different, because from the moment he took the first step the passer-by felt somewhat involved and confused, precisely because of the names that the alley outlined.

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Don’t think that the person who entered it didn’t come out, or anything like that, but that everyone who walked along it came out satisfied with something they received during their walk along it. They were obliged – according to legend – to walk it in both directions. But one of them did not have the same effect as the other.

Their two titles insinuated something of what they would feel when walking along it; however, each individual – man or woman, child or old man – received different impacts on their person according to their personal experiences.

In order to be able to locate this alley, a novel fell into my hands and I transcribed one of its parts referring to the alley:

“In an early night looking for an inn that everybody had recommended to me, I came across an alley named ‘The novel’, it caught my attention and after asking once more how to orientate myself towards fancy food, I arrived at it and immediately asked for the special dish of the house which was ‘Estrujadas de chile color con camarones (Squeezed color chilli with shrimps)’. What a delight! The people who advised me on this place and this dish were right.

I was already tasting the shrimp and at one point, when the waiter was a bit relaxed, I asked him about that alley. He told me that a few decades ago a novel had been published that told of the tribulations of the priest of a village in the region and that some events seemed to have taken place there. He continued, almost without breathing, to explain to me that several neighboring villages had claimed to be the seat of that town, but as far as he knew it was never clear which one the author was referring to.

He added nothing more, as he went to customers (clients) that were demanding his service and that was all he told me at the time.

Two days later I met a couple who were wandering around in the alley area and I dared to ask them about that story and fortunately they knew it too. I was able to find out something else, for example that the real author of that book was not known either.

They told me that not far from that alley there was another one that had, curiously enough, two names. On one side you could read a plaque that said ‘Callejón de los Recuerdos (Alley of Memories) (Memories Alley)’ and if you approached it from the other end it had another one that said ‘Callejón de los Olvidos (Alley of Forgettings) (Alley of the forgotten)’. They told me:  “that if you walk down memory lane you start to evoke things that you have experienced and that you had erased from your memory; but if you approach it from the other side, which you reach via a small stone bridge, you forget all the bad things you have done. That is why people who believe in this legend recommend that you take your girlfriend or your wife to forget all the things you have done that she did not like.

I think he was trying to prove something in that alley and she was trying to make him remember some situation. I couldn’t see that.

The restlessness caught me, because the seed of curiosity was sown in me. From that moment on I was so interested in that story that I later returned to the inn to ask the waiter if it was possible to get that novel, the origin of the plaque. He could only add that the name had been given to it 8 or 9 years ago, and there was quite a celebration when it was placed”.

Before the name of “La novela” (The Novel), there were other names: “Un callejón más” (One more alley), which was probably given to change all those legends that no one wanted to cross; “La libertad de caminar” (The freedom to walk), probably to give security to the users. The interesting thing is that one day in March 2014 I made a trip to find it and finally I was able to find it. The proof is that you can still read its plaques hanging on the different walls with the different names it has taken.

Any alley can induce us to transpose some form of being and modify our walk through life. Let us look for our own alleys -with one name or with a double name- and go through them with the desire to find answers to our walk.

202. FOUR AT SUNSET

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