Mention that you’re going to Mercado Corona — that riot of honey, clothing, flowers, uncommon fruit such as black capulines and light green arrayanes, steaming food stands and what-not, all peeking out in glorious disarray from a concrete structure two blocks from Guadalajara’s cathedral — and your friends’ reactions may range from, “It’s a nice place to go ... once” to “Horrible!”
It is true that in this market you rub shoulders — literally — with ordinary folk and that here you are more likely to glimpse a sleeping borracho [drunk] than a well-dressed anorexic, as you might in a tonier mall.
But if it is medicinal herbs you are after, and knowledgeable merchants to instruct you in their use, Mercado Corona is your mecca.
I ducked in one day in early December, sped past the chaos on the ground level and headed up a ramp, determined to get rid of a cough before Christmas season choir dates. For hidden away on the market’s second floor is Guadalajara’s best array of herbalists.They have rolled and bound individual herbs, such as nettles or horsetail, hanging from long strings, as well as prepared packages of herbal mixtures for various ailments, marked “Higado y Vesicula” [liver and gall bladder], “Diabetes,” “Nervios” [nerves], “Ulceras” [ulcers], “Adelgazar” [lose weight] and so on.
Some of the dozens of herb vendors also carry wares — for example, candles and statues to supplicate La Santa Muerte or the less ominous San Judas Tadeo, and love potions you will not find in any Erectus store — that even seem weird to me, who has never been accused of being insufficiently enthused about things alternative.
Having no idea about the qualifications of the myriad herbalists in the block-size herb area, nevertheless I instinctively avoided one in a dark aisle with candles and statues and immediately came upon the approachable, red-haired, red-lipsticked Maria Guadalupe Ramos Magaña in her bright area in the part of the floor farthest from Hidalgo (stalls 203 and 182, to be exact). Ramos is nothing if not a good saleswoman and she radiated such confidence and knowledge that I looked no further.
That day she fixed me up with a one-month supply of eucalyptus, bougainvillea, cuastecomate and gordo lobo, pretty much what you would expect for respiratory problems. She threw in unexpected things though — some hunks of fragrant ocote (pine wood that proved most resistant to separating into the small pieces I was supposed to throw in the tea I prepared daily), some tiny pieces of dried skunk liver and lung and even a few chips of some poor armadillo’s shell. To round things out, I allowed Ramos to convince me to buy her rattlesnake capsules, because I had heard tales of its efficacy against maladies from allergies to cancer. No eye of newt, however.
Did it work? Well, my cough improved and my choral engagements went well. So a month later I returned to work on this article and try another of her mixtures, which she had said would help allergies.
“How is your cough?” she asked when I greeted her.
“You have a good memory,” I replied.
“You’re my client. You had confidence in me, so I have confidence in you.
“Ask her if my herbs work,” Ramos nodded at me and then at two women who were considering a large bag of herbs marked “Riñon” [kidney].
“The herbs for coughs worked,” I obligingly informed them.
“You need this,” she shot at an older man, pointing to a bag marked “Prostata” [prostate].
If a mixture is not pre-mixed and bagged, Ramos reaches here and there to concoct a custom mix. “I was practically born in this market,” she told me as she mixed up a batch.
“My grandparents, parent and brothers and sisters all worked here. I know what I’m doing. I’m from Guadalajara, but my ancestors are Spaniards, Jews and Aztecs,” she said quietly, raising her eyebrows.
Her bags containing a month’s supply of herbs generally cost 100 pesos and packets of individual herbs cost 10 or 15 pesos, which was in line with what other stalls were charging. Rattlesnake costs a few pesos per capsule.
“Happy New Year,” Ramos said, handing me my bag of purchases. “I wish you happiness, love and money.”
“Here, God first cures you of all your ailments. Take these plants and prove it,” her sign proclaims.
Mercado Corona is bordered by Hidalgo, Independencia, Santa Monica and Zaragoza, two blocks west of the Rotonda in the historical city center of Guadalajara. The market opens daily but around 3 p.m., the herb stalls upstairs close. Similarly, on Sundays the herb area is quiet, even while the market is open.