Juan Valdez (44), places finished bricks on top of the large kiln to help seal the fire inside of the kiln. The new bricks will cure in the kiln for 8 hrs. before they are removed and taken to market.
Some of you may have seen my first story about the brickmakers Esperanza and her husband Tio. That’s a good place to start. You can find it on the blog at https://www.walterhodges.com/blog/esperanza-and-tio-brickmakers But the whole story is simply too much to do in one piece, sooooo, “But wait……..there’s more!” This would be what the beloved US radio broadcaster Paul Harvey would have called, "The rest of the story."
In Spanish, the brickmaker is called Ladrillero - he who makes bricks. Ladrillera would, of course, be - she who makes bricks. Juan Valdez is 44 and he makes bricks, or rather he owns a company, started by his retired father, Miguel, and with five employees, they make about 30,000 bricks a month during the winter months, 60,000 a month in the summer. The bricks are used primarily in building construction around San Miguel de Allende, in the central highlands of Mexico.
The senior Miguel, along with his brothers, bought some raw land west of San Miguel and started making bricks in the ’60s. Back then, they transported the bricks to town on the backs of burros. A while back, I asked Señor Valdez (72) if, as he looked back over the years, he considered his brickmaking a good business. He said, “No it was not a good business, but it’s been a way to get by.” And that’s the way it is for many indigenous Mexicans, in an evolving modern Mexico -with limited resources and limited support from the government, it comes down to finding a way to get by. This is a brief look at their story and the story of their employees. Making bricks in Mexico and getting by.
As I mentioned in my first piece, Mexican bricks are made out of a mud-like mix of clay, sawdust, straw, water, and cow manure. The mix was born thousands of years ago and refined a little over time. Technology has not evolved a lot, but a couple of things changed everything. Around 3500 BC somebody discovered they could fire the bricks in large kilns and make them stronger. The manure was added because it allowed the bricks to get even hotter and stronger and they would not degrade when they got wet. That’s the way it is now.
Juan Valdez, his son Angel, and their employees work their brickyard in the low-slung neighborhood of Pantoja, a little west of San Miguel. The women employees form the bricks from molds, the men mix the mud, work the kilns, and gather the bricks together for market.
You've heard variations on this theme before, but if you were to look in the dictionary for the words "hard-working people working hard-ass jobs in a hardscrabble world that doesn't give a damn if they live or die", you'd see pictures of the Valdez family, their employees, and many indigenous people all over the world. For most of the rest of us, work is or was some manner of negotiation. For these people, it's an inherited fate that goes all the way back to Cortez. It's a way to get by. This is the real San Miguel de Allende - part of the real Mexico, that can't be located on the tourist websites, Van Life blogs, or the double-page spreads in chic travel magazines. This is the real Mexican deal right here.
The brickmaker story is a long one, but I'm going to let the photos and the captions tell the rest of it. It's a good story. As old as the hills in Central Mexico.
Esther is a 25 year old mom who makes bricks five at a time. She gets paid about 250 pesos for every 1,000 bricks she makes during a typical day. That works out to about $12. Her son's are Jesus, who is 5, and Israel who is 10. It's 2022, and these kids are growing up in between the bricks. I asked Israel what he wants to do when he grows up. He said, "I want to make bricks like my mom." And that's the way it will be. There are no other options available.
Ricarda (26) and Adriana (24) mold the bricks using wooden forms placed on the ground. The women will spend decades working mostly on their knees or stooped over while standing up. Hard work is not an adequate description of this. To watch the two of them work separate rows of bricks is to watch a synchronized ballet. The yard is full of bricks starting to dry on the ground and then partially dried bricks are stacked up in rows to dry better in the sun. It takes about five days for the bricks to get ready for the kiln. A kiln stands in the background looking like some manner of an ancient ruin.
Filipe makes the mud-like mix out of 80% clay, then sawdust, straw, cow manure, and water. The mix is created in a small cement mixer-like device called a mezcladora. The first day we were introduced to Filipe we were told, "That's Filipe - he's always smiling." I have never seen him not smile, so I'm guessing that's a true story right there. Filipe says he was born in the bricks, played in the bricks, and now works in the bricks. My guess is he will die in the bricks, and my guess is he will die smiling. Take a look around - how many among us can shovel that much poop and say the same?
The kilns are about 20ft x 15ft x 15ft, and they hold about 13,000 bricks at a time. The photos show Juan Valdez loading partially dried bricks onto a truck for delivery to a kiln, bricks being unloaded to a kiln by Juan and Adrian, and finished bricks being unloaded to a truck for delivery to market. The portraits are of Adrian and his son Ishmael who wants to follow his father into brickmaking.
The kilns are the key to the longevity of the bricks. Once the fire is sealed inside, the temperature in the kiln will reach around 1800 F, and the smoke stops. The bricks will stay in the kiln for about 8hrs before cooling. In the old days, brickmakers used whatever they could find to make fire, including garbage and plastic and tires, which created a serious pollution issue. Now, the government provides recycled wood from old pallets. The photos show Angel putting wood on the fires, Juan and Angel starting the fires, and Juan and Adrian putting used bricks on top of the kiln and at the doorway to seal the fire inside the kiln. The inferno inside is clearly visible from the two ports at ground level.
The Valdez family. Manuel, Juan's brother drives the truck that delivers raw products to be mixed. Three generations of the Valdez family gather together for a portrait after breakfast - Juan Ángel, Fernando, Brian, Manuel, Cristian Jesús, Miguel Valdez (Senior), Juan Valdez. Juan Valdez and his son Angel inside of a kiln with the bricks stacked for firing.
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