Henry's letter to Mom and Pop telling the story of Esperanza going to Oaxaca to care for the sick Traven.
Fri. Dec 11, '42
Dear Mom and Pop
I recd. your letter Wed. I had sent the other Nov 15th and was just ready to write again, thinking it must have gotten lost. Am very sorry to hear that Pop isn't feeling well and am surprised that you are sick too. Since when can't a Dutchman stand getting wet? You should be here. The rainy season is supposed to end the last part of Sept. but we still have occasional showers - and I'll admit it, when I get wet (or even my feet wet) I change clothes. Everyone here is very susceptible to colds, the house is entirely unheated (99-54/100% of the houses have no chimneys) so we suffer more from cold than you do there. It was so cold here that you could see your breath in the morning and late afternoon. Poor drunkards were found dead from exposure (sleeping on sidewalks never is very good). They say one wicked old fellow who died recently was buried with a fire-extinguisher by his side - just a precaution.
Its good new to hear you have another horse - I hope you raise some colts. Coalie was born the spring of '32, hardly seems so long ago. Tell Ed to read those books I had on horse training (I had loaned them to the boys on Dr. Folz's place and Walter never told me if they had been returned). Good luck and bad comes to us in mixed lots. Only those who have no hope can't lose it. Happiness is only relative, we're never aware that we're happy, its only by looking back on a condition less disagreeable than the present that we realize we were less unhappy then, than now. Therefore, the past seems brighter than the future. Actually, I believe we'll have reason for rejoicing within a year or two.
Esperanza climbed Popo and descended into the crater. They were accompanied by an American girl who had never climbed before. The greenhorn caused delays and difficulties for the others, but because she was a writer she was permitted along. The two were the first women ever to descend into the crater - women in general just aren't such fools as men. Upon descending the mountain they toboggan - that is, you sit down flat on the snow, feet together in front, your piolet (alpine pick) trailing behind. When you want slow up, dig your heels into the snow and bear down on the pick. Everyone is on his own. The Am. girl lost control and before anyone could help her she turned several flips, hit some rocks and slid rolling over the snow and ice. Luckily she wasn't killed. She broke only one leg, a shoulder, some ribs and smashed her face. The others were obliged to carry her to the nearest village.
Esp. spent several days in the hospital caring for her and then received an urgent telegram from the Am. writer for whom she translates to hurry to a village in Oaxaca where he was dying. The village is in the tropical jungle bordering the Pacific. She went 18 hrs. by narrow gauge R.R. then 17 hrs. more on horse-back. In the village of 7 native huts there was no water, (they ate fruit instead), nor was there bread or corn. They live on fruit and fish. The only medicine the fellow had was a bottle of mescal (like brandy). He had a cot and a table for furnishings (no chairs) and had lived there for 5 yrs. She gave him injections, drained his liver and prevented him from getting up and wandering off into the jungle. They traveled 27 hours by ox-cart to get him to the city of Oaxaca then 1hr 40min. by plane to Mex. City. She has been caring for him day and night and swears she hasn't slept more than 2 hrs. any night since Nov. 25. They had vacation from Dec. 1st to 10th so today she went back to work. The old fellow is out of the gravest danger so she has a nurse now caring for him. I've seen her for only a few hours in the last 2 wks. She says big blue scorpions 4 or 5 inches long scampered over the dirt floor of the old man's hut so even had there been an extra bed or chair she would not have dared to sleep. Monkeys chattered in the trees outside and looked in thru the door or windows. Orchids more beautiful than those they sell in New York for hundreds of dollars, bloom and fade - admired only by the animals and insects inhabiting the wilderness. Well she goes on and on - but, I'm obliged to stop. Its 12:30 A.M.
Am enclosing a little calendar for Ed and another for you. Before they're used up I'll probably see you. Meanwhile, Esp and I send our love to all.
Yours,
Henry
