Patrons

Esta foto de Rio Rancho es cortesía de TripAdvisor (Courtyard of Casa San Ysidro in Corrales)

An issue that pops up in New Mexico from time to time is that of the historical and present role of los ricos --  patrons -- in the affairs of the state and its people. There is a strong libertarian streak here that claims to reject the historic role that patrons have played in the Spanish and later Anglo societies in New Mexico, but it's pretty obvious that what these libertarians are really rejecting is the social responsibility patrons  have and have had over the centuries. They would like to hold on to the "rule" or authority patrons are able to exercise over the common people, they just don't want to have to bother with all the responsibility for the well being of others that goes with that authority.

It's as I've said many times, the libertarian motto is: "I demand the liberty to impose my authority on you." Without -- let it be said -- any reciprocal responsibility toward your welfare or the well-being of the community as a whole.

We went to Casa San Ysidro in Corrales last night and got a sense of how a patron might have lived in rural New Mexico in the 1700's or early 1800's.

It was simple to say the least. So simple that the Anglos who flooded in after the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo considered this traditional lifestyle both primitive and barbaric. And yet the role of the patron is still an essential factor in New Mexico's society and culture.

A traditional patron in New Mexico has extensive community responsibilities that go well beyond his own personal needs. This tradition of responsibility is very strong even today, and it is one of the factors that keeps New Mexico from sliding into the abyss of the kind of irresponsible nonsense that afflicts both Arizona and Texas.

The main responsibility of the patron is for the community's functioning and survival over an extended period of time -- often under very difficult circumstances.

That is how many of New Mexico's public officials see their roles today. Even Libertarians like ex-Governor Gary Johnson and Republicans like current Governor Susana Martinez see the necessity of social and community responsibility, something that seems to be missing from the perspectives of Governors Jan Brewer in Arizona and Rick Perry in Texas. The concept of responsibility -- as opposed to "authority" for its own sake or in concert with it -- seems to be alien to them.

American ricos by and large have abandoned social and community responsibility. They see no reason to be concerned with the well-being of others, especially others outside their class -- who they seem to believe are not even human. This is, I suppose, a natural consequence of granting god-like powers or appellations like "Masters of the Universe" to a cadre of not-too-bright but highly predatory individuals whose primary interest appears to be exploitation for its own sake -- without renewal or consideration for the future.

We went out to Casa San Ysidro last night because it was a Christmas Season open house, and we'd never been there, though we'd contemplated it many times.

We were able to stop by a place we call "Hazel's" -- El Bruno's in Albuquerque -- for an early dinner, where Hazel's great-grandson was introduced to us as "our future boss." That sense of continuity -- and responsibility -- is a fundamental part of society here. When "Hazel's" -- El Bruno's -- in Cuba burned several years ago, Hazel and Bruno set to work immediately to try to recoup and recover and rebuild, not so much for themselves, as for all the people who were relying on them and their restaurant -- their family, friends and employees, and the town of Cuba itself, along with their customers from all over New Mexico and the Southwest (like us) who had made their place a destination for many years. In return, the community pitched in to ensure that El Bruno's reopened and even became better than before.

That's how it goes. Or rather, that's how it should go.

 As we left Casa San Ysidro, we got caught up in the tail end of the Christmas Starlight Parade through the Village of Corrales, attended by thousands of residents and visitors who lined the main street -- it seemed for miles. Where did all these people come from?  we wondered. There are fewer than 10,000 residents in Corrales, and I'm sure there were more than that lining the street. We had thought of attending the Twinkle Light Parade in Albuquerque last night, but getting caught up in the Christmas cheer and parade in Corrales made the idea more than a little redundant.

Cuba

Yesterday, we went up to Cuba. Yahhhhhhssss. Cuba. We've been going to Cuba for years, or rather we did until we actually bought a place in New Mexico, in the East Mountain area. And then we didn't go to Cuba any more. There were so many things to do getting the house restored and livable, and after it was at least habitable, there were so many things that still had to be done that going to Cuba was something there just wasn't time for.

So we didn't. Until yesterday. The trip was an eye-opener, I'll say that. So many things have changed along the way -- a way we haven't traveled in quite a while -- that it almost seemed like we were entering a different country than the one we'd known before. We went along the usual route, but things were very different. The roads had deteriorated somewhat, but towns along the way showed a good deal of prosperity, a good deal more prosperity than we expected given conditions east of the Sandias, where prosperity is not the rule. Bernalillo, in fact, appeared to be thriving, almost overwhelmingly so, and even little San Ysidro was in better shape than I remember it. Cuba itself, while not exactly thriving, looks pretty damned prosperous all things considered.

For those who don't know, Cuba is a little town in the northwest quadrant of New Mexico on the way to the Chaco Canyon ruins. It's in a high mountain valley on the Rio Puerco and it is closely affiliated with Regina ("reh-heen-na") and La Jara ("la har-ra") to the north and east. Cuba is sort of the big city of the three, but it is tiny. Cuba's claim to fame, if you will, is a restaurant, El Bruno's, that is run by Hazel and Bruno Herrera, both local people who have been in the restaurant business for more than 30 years. About 5 1/2 years ago, their restaurant burned down. It was a very sad incident, and much that the Herrera family had worked for was lost. It was my understanding they had no insurance. For a time, it was thought that their restaurant -- famed throughout New Mexico and much of the region -- was no more, but Hazel insisted it would open again, and within a few months, she and her staff had taken over the abandoned Foster's Freeze across the street and opened a tiny stripped down version of El Bruno's. I stopped there once, soon after the re-opening and was delighted with the food and service. But I didn't have a chance to go back.

In the interim, the Herreras had acquired most of the property on that side of the road and had expanded from the Foster's Freeze -- which is now the kitchen -- by remodeling the house on the property and enclosing the space between the house and the Foster's Freeze to become the main dining room.

It's beautiful, very much in keeping with Hazel's vision of the now abandoned ruin across the street, but in many ways it's even better. The food was outstanding, every bite, and the flavors, unique to El Bruno's, were the same as I remember.

We sat with Hazel for a bit and chatted. She's a truly remarkable person who we've felt close to almost since our first encounter. She's been through some real trauma, but she's shown incredible resiliance and spirit. Cuba could not be the place it is without her and without El Bruno's.

It was great to be back.

And Hazel let us know how grateful she is just to still be standing. Bless her heart!