Mexico on alert as ‘world’s most dangerous volcano’ starts to grumble

THE night sky sparked bright; dust fell on the villagers. Popocatepetl, the monstrous volcano shadowing this tiny town, has rumbled once again, spewing forth a cloud of ash and alarming Mexican authorities, who raised threat levels and dispatched civil protection services.

But, as has been the case for years, the people here at the volcano’s base – in ancient farm towns with their own ways and legends – hardly flinched. For lifelong residents like Carmela Silvestre, 78, the volcano they call Popo simply stirred. As a friend and protector, she says, he has no interest in hurting his neighbours.

“He’s just breathing up there, that’s all,” she said, walking towards the central plaza and pulling a shawl over her shoulders. “We’re used to it.”

Most of Mexico seems to feel the same way. The 17,945-foot peak also known as Don Gregorio or Don Goyo is often described as the world’s most dangerous volcano because it sits within 40 miles of the capital, Mexico City, and its 20 million people.

But all over the country, Popo jokes have been running far ahead of evacuation plans. Twitter has been abuzz with humorous descriptions of what Popo might really be up to. Some said he was coughing and sneezing.

Others said he must be angry and perhaps demanding a gift, prompting one Mexican journalist to post: “If Don Goyo needs a sacrifice, I suggest the political class.”

Here in Santiago Xalitzintla and in other towns with a clear view of Popocatepetl’s snow-capped peak and plume of smoke, the mood seems to run from calm to comical to mildly concerned. Rosario Jesus, 55, during a stop for tortillas in San Cayetano, was one of many who joked that Don Goyo “is a friend when he’s quiet but not much of a friend when he’s mad”.

Like many others around here, she noted that 2012 has been a particularly bad year in the marriage of nature and humankind. “We started with earthquakes,” she said, “and now there’s the volcano.”

She looked down, smiling, but her eyes suggested a pinch of worry, perhaps for good reason. Mexico has endured quite a few rattles this year: a 7.4 earthquake in Oaxaca on 20 March was followed by a 6.4 in Michoacan on 11 April – and preceded by a handful of other quakes at a magnitude of 5 or above. With many of these shocks and aftershocks, swaying buildings in the capital, many Mexicans have begun to ask what is going on. Seismologists have generally suggested it is simply a healthy release of underground tension, perhaps preventing either a large volcanic eruption or a cataclysmic earthquake later on. But there is also the Mayan question. Long ago, the Mayan calendar put 2012 as the end of the world, at least according to some believers.

And although references to the apocalypse usually come with a smirk there are plenty of Mexicans noting the year’s extraordinary natural activity. Residents of Xalitzintla are no exception.

The village of around 2,000 people was settled centuries ago, and today local farmers mainly produce fruit – apples, pears, peaches – from the rich soil that is the product of volcanic activity spanning thousands of years.

Popocatepetl, sometimes described as a god of rain or the community’s heartbeat, has stayed quiet for most of its life. It became active (after a lengthy rest) in 1994, and last erupted with significant force in 2000, prompting the evacuation of 50,000 people from this village and others nearby.

Many people here, however, mainly recall those who did not flee. Thousands refused to go. Indeed, residents said that since the days of the Mexican Revolution, many of their neighbours were less afraid of the volcano than of the soldiers and police officers who come to town when Popo decides to say hello.