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Thursday Doors La Hacienda

Kay Castaneda, April 20, 2024April 25, 2024
#BlogsAboutHistory, #BlogsAboutMexico, #Family, #Haciendas, #Mexican Churches, #Thursday Doors, #WritingCommunity
                            The Bell Tower

                             The Barn Door Looking Out

Images by Sandro Ortiz Salazar  https://www.facebook.com/sandro.ortizsalazar?mibextid=ZbWKwL

Welcome to Thursday Doors! This is a weekly challenge for people who love doors and architecture to come together to admire and share their favorite door photos, drawings, or other images or stories from around the world. If you’d like to join us, simply create your own Thursday Doors post each (or any) week and then share a link to your post in the comments on Dan’s blog at Nofacilities https://nofacilities.com/category/thursday-doors/ anytime between 12:01 am Thursday morning and Saturday noon (North American eastern time). If you like, you can add our badge to your post.

Since I moved to Mexico, I’ve been fascinated by doors. I’ve taken pictures before of my husband standing in front of doors in various locations. When I learned about Thursday Doors Challenge, I decided to create my own.

Zacatecas y Su Historia

Here ends the road coming from Sauceda passing through the railway street railway extension and following to San Ramón el Mastranto ending in San José de Tapias in the state of Zacatecas, Mexico.


The photos aren’t mine. I belong to a Zacatecas history and culture group, Zacatecas Y Su Historia. I found this story that I thought was interesting. The people standing in front of the gate are waiting to get permission to enter the hacienda since it’s privately owned. A hacienda is a large landed estate, especially used for farming or ranching. The main house on such an estate is also called a hacienda. Here are some of the comments from group members.

“Muchas gracias, Sandro por compartir ésta belleza de fotografías de la hacienda que perteneció a mi abuelo José Felix Garcia Espinoza y Mi abuela Josefa Reséndez Domínguez, lugar donde nació mi querida madre y dónde pasamos y convivimos los mejores momentos con la familia, recuerdos inolvidables.” 🙏

I translated the comments into English. “Thank you very much Sandro, for sharing the besuty of the estate that belonged to my grandfather Jose Felix Garcia Espinoza and my grandmother Josepha Resendez Dominguez, the place where my beloved mother was born and where we spent the best moments of the family. Unforgettable memoirs.”

Dining Room

From the inside looking out. This room was likely a pantry or storage. It also could have been a room where the cooks lived so they would be close to the kitchen.

The Courtyard

The main house where the front doors looked out into another courtyard or interior yard. The back of the house faced out toward the ranch for safety. Houses usually had no doors or windows on the back. The small building could have been where a servant family lived who were responsible for maintenance and in charge of employees. All workers lived on the property year around. There would have been guards who remained in the yard and in fact, on the hacienda land.

This is what the land still looks like today with a small lake that belonged to the owners.

“Yo viví en tapias era nieta de Octaviano Garcia.” “I was the granddaughter of Octaviviano Garcia.”

“Blanca Ventura, si recuerdo a tu abuelito yo iba con chayo y mi tía Teresa y m daba gayetas.” “Blanca Ventura, I remember your grandfather. I went to tea with my Aunt Teresa and they gave us a meal.”

“Ahí fueron grabadas unas locaciones de la película Zapata en Chinameca.” “This is the location where the filmed the movie about Zapata.”

“Mi suegra fue nieta de los hacendados, vivió su infancia en ese lugar está muy bonito, y tiene mucha historia.” “My mother-in-law was the granddaughter of the Hacendados. (the owners.) Sĥe lived her childhood in that place. It is very beautiful and has a lot of history.”

The Church

Many haciendas had their own churches. The family didn’t have to travel far àway for Mass. They were also guarded that way. Neighbors often attended when the owners permitted on Sundays and holidays. Sometimes the owner allowed weddings and baptisms of the surrounding communities to be held in the iglesia, the church. The church remains open on Sundays now.

The church.

Loking out into a entry way. This wooden structure was probably a baptismal font.

Small chapel inside the church

The sanctuary is the area at the front of the church where the altar and cross are located, and the area around it that is usually raised.

The choir loft

Stairs to the Choir loft and bell tower

“Mi papá vivió toda su infancia ahí, qué bonitos recuerdos.” “My father lived his whole life there. Such great memories.”

“Hermana aque pertenece San José de tapias.” “My sister belongs to San Jose de Tapias.”

“Dónde es en Zacatecas para ir a visitar está hermoso.” “Where in Zacatecas is it? Let’s go visit. It is beautiful.”

This small doorway looks into a room inside the church. It could be where the priest slept when he visited the night before a Mass or holiday. Priests had to travel on horseback to communities sometimes traveling miles across the state from church to church. Priests still travel to churches but they own cars nowadays. There are areas in the state very rugged in the mountains, and priests still hike or ride horses to those communities. These areas have outdoor Mass because they don’t have churches.

Zacatecas has had railroads since the late 1800s. Traveling priests rode trains if they were accesible. Since there were several mines in Zacatecas, rail transportation was crucial. These mines still operate today. The Zacatecas mines are the largest exporters of silver and copper in the world employing thousands of people. Gold is also mined. There’s a mine in our town where 5,000 people work. Hacendados owned stake in mines so that’s why they could own a hacienda.

Fireplace in the big house

A family who takes care of the property and the church. No one lives in the big house anymore.

I plan to write more about Zacatecas since it’s my home now.

As a bonus, this is a hotel in the capital city which is also named Zacatecas. So Zacatecas, Zacatecas. The door looks into a courtyard where there are one hundred rooms and a restaurant. See the doors on the top floor. Each room has it’s own door to the balcony with a view across the street to a park. Those are the most popular rooms. It’s a very old hotel. Many people say it is haunted. The cleaning women have the most amazing stories! Tony and I have been to Sunday Brunch there. You have to walk down corridors, turn corners and go up a small flight of stairs. The food was excellent. We might go to the Annual New Year’s Eve Extravaganza. Dinner, dancing in the ballroom and a night in one of those quaint old bedrooms.

 

#BlogsAboutHistory, #BlogsAboutMexico, #Family, #Haciendas, #Mexican Churches, #Thursday Doors, #WritingCommunity

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Comments (12)

  1. CarolCooks2 says:
    April 21, 2024 at 4:50 am

    Some fabulous doors, Kay the hotel looks wonderful, quaint and a ghost I’m sure there are some stories ..a lovely post :)

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    1. Kay says:
      April 21, 2024 at 11:44 pm

      I’m glad you liked my post Carol. Thanks 😍

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  2. dgkaye says:
    April 21, 2024 at 9:51 am

    I love the beautiful architecture in Mexico. Fabulous images Kay. How long have you lived in Zacatecas? :) x

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    1. Kay says:
      April 21, 2024 at 11:51 pm

      We moved here 5 years ago when we both retired. My husband grew up here. He lived and worked in the United States 45 years and wanted to come back home. I’m happy you liked the photos Debby. I am amazed at the architecture also. The capital city is all Spanish style. But there is so much contrast with the poor areas. I might write about that sometime. 🥰

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      1. dgkaye says:
        April 22, 2024 at 6:46 am

        Wow, so amazing you two could get that wonderful new start after retirement. My husband and I had talked about moving to Mexico too – until he got sick. Stay blessed. <3

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        1. Kay says:
          April 22, 2024 at 1:36 pm

          Thank you, Debby.

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          1. dgkaye says:
            April 22, 2024 at 4:50 pm

            :)

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        2. Kay says:
          April 22, 2024 at 4:25 pm

          You would have loved living here. How long ago did your husband pass away?

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          1. dgkaye says:
            April 22, 2024 at 4:50 pm

            Three years ago. Still feels like yesterday.

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            1. Kay says:
              April 22, 2024 at 5:34 pm

              I am so sorry.

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              1. dgkaye says:
                April 22, 2024 at 6:32 pm

                <3

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                1. Kay says:
                  April 22, 2024 at 6:41 pm

                  Hugs

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The Beauty Lesson

Kay Castaneda,
September 17, 2025

I still fume when I remember a boy in my 5th-grade science class. That was a very long time ago. I was shy and silent at that age and everything bothered me. My mom had moved my sisters and I away from Indianapolis to Detroit after she and my dad got a divorce. It made me sad and angry to leave my dad and other relatives here.

A mean boy told me one day that my hair was dirty. At the time, I didn’t care about hair or clothes because I was too young and depressed. When he told me that, I went home and scrubbed my hair VERY hard and soaked in the tub in steaming hot water for an hour. I poured some of my mom’s perfume, Evening in Paris, in my wet hair and went to bed. The next morning, I brushed it 100 times because I’d read that in Good Housekeeping magazine. It was so shiny! He sat next to me. I wanted to sit somewhere else, but the teacher wouldn’t let the students change seats. The boy sneered at me and didn’t complement me, but he did tell me I should use curlers. My hair was stringy, according to his opinion. What did I do that night? Of course, I curled my hair! I borrowed Mom’s brush curlers and fastened them to my head. I slept in them and tossed and turned all night because the pain in my scalp was so bad. I took them out slowly because that was the advice from Redbook magazine. I combed gently and applied tons of hairspray. The next day, that boy didn’t compliment my curly hair.

He insulted me even more when he told me I had fat lips. I used to have full lips, a lot fuller than I have as an adult, especially now as an older women. If I showed you my school picture from that year, you would see what I mean. Anyway, the boy laughed at me, and even pointed at me to the other kids. That night I practiced ways to make my lips smaller; keeping them closed and not talking to anyone, covering them with several layers of Mom’s foundation and keeping my head turned away from him.

He insulted me in many ways. According to him, I didn’t have any breasts. I was a bit confused about that one because I was obviously a girl. I went home and asked Mom to buy me a bra but she didn’t have the money. I put one of hers on and stuffed it with socks and toilet paper to make them “big”. No compliments from him, of course. I endured suffering from him about my body until Mom decided to move back home at Christmas. I never had to sit by him again.

“A girl should be two things: who and what she wants.” Coco Chanel

I thought about him the other day, and I don’t know why. Maybe it was when I washed my hair and used the curling iron. Hurt lasts a long, long time. Those people who were abused when they were younger make me feel sympathy with them. I secretly rejoice when the bad guys get outed. But those celebrities and so-called important people escape to sex-addiction clinics with equine therapy, yoga, gourmet meals, and other luxuries at the $30,000 six week stay. Six weeks to ride horses and have aromatherapy massages? Baloney! Caca in Spanish.

Now many people are coming out of the woods to bring the evil to light, and it is evil when somebody assaults a person sexually, emotionally and physically. Words can hurt. I wish I would have said something to my Mom or a teacher about that boy.

And I wish I could have told someone about abuse at my jobs as an adult. That is another story…
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The Beauty Lesson

Kay Castaneda, 
September 17, 2025

I still fume when I remember a boy in my 5th-grade science class. That was a very long time ago. I was shy and silent at that age and everything bothered me. My mom had moved my sisters and I away from Indianapolis to Detroit after she and my dad got a divorce. It made me sad and angry to leave my dad and other relatives here.

A mean boy told me one day that my hair was dirty. At the time, I didn’t care about hair or clothes because I was too young and depressed. When he told me that, I went home and scrubbed my hair VERY hard and soaked in the tub in steaming hot water for an hour. I poured some of my mom’s perfume, Evening in Paris, in my wet hair and went to bed. The next morning, I brushed it 100 times because I’d read that in Good Housekeeping magazine. It was so shiny! He sat next to me. I wanted to sit somewhere else, but the teacher wouldn’t let the students change seats. The boy sneered at me and didn’t complement me, but he did tell me I should use curlers. My hair was stringy, according to his opinion. What did I do that night? Of course, I curled my hair! I borrowed Mom’s brush curlers and fastened them to my head. I slept in them and tossed and turned all night because the pain in my scalp was so bad. I took them out slowly because that was the advice from Redbook magazine. I combed gently and applied tons of hairspray. The next day, that boy didn’t compliment my curly hair.

He insulted me even more when he told me I had fat lips. I used to have full lips, a lot fuller than I have as an adult, especially now as an older women. If I showed you my school picture from that year, you would see what I mean. Anyway, the boy laughed at me, and even pointed at me to the other kids. That night I practiced ways to make my lips smaller; keeping them closed and not talking to anyone, covering them with several layers of Mom’s foundation and keeping my head turned away from him.

He insulted me in many ways. According to him, I didn’t have any breasts. I was a bit confused about that one because I was obviously a girl. I went home and asked Mom to buy me a bra but she didn’t have the money. I put one of hers on and stuffed it with socks and toilet paper to make them “big”. No compliments from him, of course. I endured suffering from him about my body until Mom decided to move back home at Christmas. I never had to sit by him again.

“A girl should be two things: who and what she wants.”   Coco Chanel

I thought about him the other day, and I don’t know why. Maybe it was when I washed my hair and used the curling iron. Hurt lasts a long, long time. Those people who were abused when they were younger make me feel sympathy with them. I secretly rejoice when the bad guys get outed. But those celebrities and so-called important people escape to sex-addiction clinics with equine therapy, yoga, gourmet meals, and other luxuries at the $30,000 six week stay. Six weeks to ride horses and have aromatherapy massages? Baloney! Caca in Spanish.

Now many people are coming out of the woods to bring the evil to light, and it is evil when somebody assaults a person sexually, emotionally and physically. Words can hurt. I wish I would have said something to my Mom or a teacher about that boy.

And I wish I could have told someone about abuse at my jobs as an adult. That is another story…
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Kay Castaneda, Author
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Author of Emmie of Indianapolis, historical fiction set in the Midwest. WIP is a mystery series. Go to @kay_castaneda for my opinion on the world. 📒👩🏻‍🎓🎄

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"The quiet novel. Rather than climactic plots and thrilling storylines meant purely to entertain, a quiet novel speaks more to our inner life. They are contemplative works of art that derive meaning from silence rather than spectacle." Poetic Outlaws
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My latest post is now published on my blog. Thanks!

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