After an hour’s drive south of Merida, navigating on questionable dirt roads filled with topes (monstrous Mexican speed bumps), and swerving to avoid lethargic dogs sprawled out in the middle of the lane, we finally arrived at the town of Peon.  It was a seemingly abandoned town that reminded me of an early Robert Rodriguez movie location, only 10 times smaller and dirtier.  It certainly didn’t look like the advertised tourist trap of a working hacienda which promised welcome drinks and a fun-filled, mule-driven cart ride.

However, once we passed through the arched gates that separated Hacienda Sotuta de Peon from the rest of the town, we found ourselves in a large and splendorous estate with a volcanic-like fountain sprouting out of the middle of a lush garden.  The buildings had been carefully restored to their original grandeur.  Workers dressed in white and wearing panama hats were there to recreate a sisal-making plantation as it had existed in the 1800’s.  Beyond the main house lay fields of prickly, cactus-like henequen plants that stretched for acres.

The henequen had to be cut with machetes by hand and then sent through stripping machines that separated the fibers, which were dried and eventually pulled and twisted into sisal rope.

Jorge, our multilingual guide, explained to us in depth the history of the haciendas.  These haciendas were set up like mini-empires.  They had their own stores, church, school, infirmary, jail and even their own currency.  The workers were actually paid in that currency, so while the owners made off like fat cows, their workers were penniless outside of the hacienda gates.

Jorge went on to explain that the owners of the plantations were usually Spaniards, while the workers were Mayan and Korean. Wait.  What?  Did he say Korean?

That’s right.  In 1905, 1,033 Koreans answered ads that promised better opportunities, good pay, free medical care and a maximum 9-hour workday.  But once they migrated to Merida, they found the ads were largely exaggerated.  The pay was not good and many people died without proper medication.  They worked more than 9 hours a day and were basically mistreated as indentured servants on a 4-year contract.

After the 4 years were over, many of the Koreans decided to stay on in Mexico, fearing to return to Japanese-occupied Korea.  Some moved to Tijuana, Hawaii or Los Angeles.  Today there are something like 40,000 descendants of those original Korean workers, living throughout Mexico and the U.S.

I have to admit that up until now, I have been largely ignorant of Korean immigration history, so this was a fascinating history tidbit to take home with me.  And suddenly, the Korean Taco Truck totally made sense.  Who knew my vacation would be so educational?