海角大神

Hunched over a weatherworn hand-crank organ in his repair shop, Roman Dichi explains why the work of Mexico鈥檚 organilleros has endured for a century and a half.聽

鈥淭his music evokes happiness, tradition, and childhood memories of going out to a plaza with Mom and Dad 鈥� or of falling in love,鈥� says Mr. Dichi, president of the organ-grinders union in Mexico City.聽

He has played the instrument since the 1980s, when his in-laws introduced him to the family business.

鈥淚t鈥檚 a classic sound of the city,鈥� he says.

Organ-grinders, especially ubiquitous in Mexico City鈥檚 historic center, date back to the presidential administration of Gen. Porfirio D铆az in the late 1800s. The dictator鈥檚 adoration of all things European inspired Mexico鈥檚 elite to import organs into their homes. Eventually, the instruments moved out of private parlors and onto the streets as public entertainment. They were used to draw customers to circuses, with the help of monkeys, and to keep soldiers in good spirits. Over time, the European songs inside the machines were replaced with revolutionary ballads and local classics, such as 鈥�Las Ma帽anitas,鈥� the Mexican birthday song.

Despite these deep roots, today the tradition is at risk.

Not everyone is charmed by the tip-seeking musicians. A crank organ鈥檚 sound 鈥� akin to the pitchy puff of air from a slide whistle 鈥� can be loud. In the wrong hands, an organ can be positively off-key, an assault against the ears. Police harassment of organ-grinders is common, as are quarrels with annoyed residents and business owners.

The organs are also expensive, with many organilleros renting them from the small stock available locally. And upkeep gets costlier with each passing year. The heavy instruments can get damaged while being wheeled down crowded city streets or warped by weather and time.聽

Edgar Alberto M茅ndez Hern谩ndez has been slowly turning the crank on his organ in the capital鈥檚 historic center for some 15 years. He nets about 250 pesos (a little more than $15) on a good day after paying 250 pesos for his rental, he says.聽

鈥淚 feel plugged into the city,鈥� says Mr. M茅ndez. 鈥淭here鈥檚 something special about being a part of the action on the street that I would miss if I did anything else鈥� for work.

After several hours working along a bustling sidewalk near the Bellas Artes theater, he pushes his black-and-brown antique wooden organ on its dolly and heads several blocks toward the Z贸calo square. When he shows up at this even busier 鈥� and potentially more lucrative 鈥� spot, the two young men already playing organs there take their cue, as if in a dance, and move to a side street. These shifts are imperceptible to the public but tediously negotiated with the union鈥檚 help.

翱谤驳补苍颈濒濒别谤辞蝉鈥� work is hardly stable. They are part of the nearly 60% of the Mexican working population who are in the informal labor force. They 鈥渓ive off of tips,鈥� notes Yuleina Carmona, the Mexico City coordinator for Women in Informal Employment: Globalizing and Organizing, an international nonprofit. Shoeshiners and strolling mariachi bands have fixed rates for their services, but organ-grinders churn out music whether they are paid or not.

鈥淚t鈥檚 a different relationship with the public,鈥� Ms. Carmona says, adding 鈥渢he city wouldn鈥檛 be the same without them.鈥�

In March, Mr. Dichi鈥檚 union submitted a proposal to Mexico City鈥檚 Congress to have 辞谤驳补苍颈濒濒别谤辞蝉鈥� work recognized as a cultural heritage. It was the fourth attempt 鈥� and this time it was approved. The legal recognition is expected to translate to better protection on the street from police harassment and greater support for organ-grinders in their disputes with residents and businesses. Ms. Carmona notes it will also give organ-grinders 鈥渁 seat at the table鈥� 鈥� a say in how Mexico City uses funds for cultural activities in the center.

鈥淚 like the street, being in the middle of everything,鈥� says C茅sar Castillo, whose wife suggested he consider this line of work two years ago. He left his job in private security to crank an organ, which he rents, with a cuddly teddy bear perched on top. A colleague weaves through the crowd of pedestrians with his hat outstretched for tips.

鈥淚 get to interact with people,鈥� Mr. Castillo explains. 鈥淎 job well done can make them smile.鈥澛�