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Bloomberg
5 days ago
- Bloomberg
Big Take: Murder on Rainbow Mountain
At over 16,000 feet, Peru's Rainbow Mountain is hard to reach — and its bright colors are hard to miss on social media. After a community effort to build an access road and usher in tourists succeeded, fame has proven to be a blessing and a curse for the Indigenous community that sits beneath it. On today's Big Take podcast, Bloomberg's Marcelo Rochabrun and Sarah Holder trace how the community turned Rainbow Mountain into a global tourism destination — and the money, violence and tragedy that followed.
Bloomberg
5 days ago
- Bloomberg
The Big Take MURDER ON RAINBOW MOUNTAIN
Busloads of tourists chased viral shots against the colorful peak of Peru's Rainbow Mountain. A battle for control of the newfound riches ended in a brutal killing. By Marcelo Rochabrun Photographs by Alessandro Cinque July 16, 2025 05:00 PM EDT Share this article Every morning, hundreds of tourists making the trek up to Peru's Rainbow Mountain must pass by a cross that marks the site of a violent killing. Last year, that's where a local man — Flavio Illatinco, who was perhaps the biggest champion of the tourist destination — was ambushed, kidnapped and stoned to death, allegedly by a mob of his own neighbors. And it's the reason why some in the local Indigenous community now see the world-famous destination as a curse. The hundreds of thousands of visitors who ascend the Andes each year to reach what's become one of Peru's most iconic postcards are unaware of this dark reality. The mountain was long an unfrequented locale, but that changed in 2016 when a social media craze for picture-perfect destinations catapulted it into fame. Lonely Planet first mentioned its existence in its 2019 Peru guidebook, and put it on the cover just two years later. Rainbow Mountain's sudden rise — its myriad colors the gift of mineral deposits — transformed the local Indigenous community of Chillihuani. Almost overnight, millions of dollars in annual ticket sales poured into the village of subsistence farmers, saving hundreds of underprivileged Peruvians from generations of poverty. But more than anything, that influx of money triggered years of feuds over how the ample tourism proceeds should be collected and distributed, culminating in Flavio's shocking killing. Overall, 29 people or almost 6% of Chillihuani's population are under criminal investigation for the violence. Thirteen men — many of them who say they transport tourists on horseback to Rainbow Mountain — are in jail. They all deny any wrongdoing. Three other men were on the run, but police captured one person last week in the Peruvian Amazon. Prosecutors are trying to identify another 40 people allegedly involved. 'One of the great causes of discord, of confrontation and of human selfishness is money and the love of money. Even more so for somebody who has never before had money in their hands,' said Rina Arana, the local prosecutor now tasked with investigating the killing. 'It bothered me and angered me to see how they would fight. And all for the money.' Controversies around global tourism are on the rise — whether unrest at housing shortages in Barcelona, overcrowding in Venice or environmental degradation in Thailand's beaches. The violence at Rainbow Mountain shows how a gold rush can create deadly strife even while it generates desperately needed wealth. Peru's government largely stood by as the infighting in the local community got worse and worse, eager to promote the photos that litter all corners of social media and show an otherworldly landscape. The tourism ministry concluded in a report to Congress three months after Flavio's death that the 'conflict had escalated quickly because of the intra-community disputes related to charging tourists for access to the mountain.' Madeleine Burns, who was Peru's vice minister of tourism from 2022 until last month, called his death a tragedy. 'The problem was always about the money,' she said. 'This conflict has been managed like the Wild West, I hope it can be solved.' To this day, officials don't know how many tourists visit Rainbow Mountain, let alone how much cash it raises. Government estimates range from $3 million to $10 million a year. The government was so unprepared to handle the influx that it had yet to designate the site as an official tourism destination at the time of Flavio's death, even as it has risen in popularity worldwide. 'The tourist arrives happy, lives an experience, then goes abroad and tells stories of the incredible Rainbow Mountain,' said Flavio's son, Ivcher Illatinco, 25, who grew up in Chillihuani. 'But they don't know that internally this community is in serious trouble and is sad. That there are deaths, that there is violence, and that the Rainbow Mountain is a curse.' Tourism guides like to say Rainbow Mountain's streaks of pink, turquoise and mustard were revealed when a glacier recently melted. Satellite images, however, show the area wasn't covered in ice throughout the 20th century. 'The idea that there was a glacier there and because of global warming it disappeared makes for a good story, but it's not true,' said Lonnie Thompson, a professor at Ohio State University and an expert on tropical glaciers, most of which are in Peru. For centuries, many in Chillihuani have engaged in rituals to honor the surrounding hills — including one they called Kuychi, which means rainbow in the Quechua language. Others called it Vinicunca, a name that has since become almost as popular as Rainbow Mountain among tourists. The area was a home to yellow flowers and to traveling vicuñas, elegant wild camelids with impossibly fine wool. The Chillihuani territory sits on the side of this mountain, ranging from around 11,000 feet above sea level to the highest point of Rainbow Mountain at 16,500 feet. Population: 500. The government has never measured its poverty rate, but locals say they relied largely on bartering goods — potatoes, corn and alpacas — up until the arrival of tourism. Ivcher took that mountain for granted in a sea of towering hills. He said on one of his climbs, he didn't focus on its colors. Instead, he said, 'I focused on the panorama, how beautiful it was.' Rainbow Mountain's potential caught the attention of his father Flavio in the mid-2010s. Flavio was born in 1979 and raised in the poorest section of Chillihuani, called Llacto. He worked as a cook for tourists who trekked the Inca Trail, a multi-day hike across the Andes that ends in the ever-popular Incan citadel of Machu Picchu. The Route to Rainbow Mountain Flavio died on a road that takes tourists past Chillihuani and up to the peak That gave him an eye for tourism, and around 2017 he pushed his village to build a road to Rainbow Mountain. A neighboring town had already started to build one, but Chillihuani was closer to Cuzco and its mass of tourists. The new route cut travel time down to three hours by car. The road opened in 2018 and quickly became the site's main route. Chillihuani became in charge of collecting entrance tickets, as well as selling several other services like horse riding, food, and arts and crafts. The accomplishment elevated Flavio into political leadership, putting him in charge of how Chillihuani and Rainbow Mountain were run — until others started vying for control of the ticket revenue. 'When people saw that tickets to Rainbow Mountain could bring in thousands, even millions, they didn't know how to manage it and that created difficulties,' Ivcher said. 'People would say 'Wow! I can make that much.'' One of them was Cecilio Quispe Noa, who opposed Flavio's desire to work with the government to oversee the redistribution of the site's income. Instead, Cecilio believed in the autonomy of Chillihuani as an Indigenous community and rejected any outside involvement. 'They were mortal enemies,' said Edit Yepez, a local public safety official who witnessed the tensions over the years. The sparks between Flavio and Cecilio endured. Just hours after Flavio's killing, his cousin and best friend Filomeno Illatinco told officials that 'Cecilio Quispe Noa has for years been threatening to kill me and Flavio Illatinco over the administration of the revenue from Rainbow Mountain.' Those threats were also documented by Edit. Cecilio declined to comment through his lawyer. In late 2019, authorities alleged that Flavio received a bribe from a tourism company. He denied the accusations and was never charged, but the situation raised eyebrows among Chillihuani's villagers. Flavio's 'weakness was that he had so much money, through ticketing, but didn't know how to administer it,' Edit said. 'Everybody used to ask, 'What do they do with the money up there?' Flavio wasn't reelected and Cecilio eventually became president of Chillihuani. Cecilio similarly struggled, Edit said, writing in a memo to prosecutors that he had 'lost control and authority' over the 'potential bad administration of the income coming from Rainbow Mountain.' 'Flavio was a transparent person,' Filomeno said, 'Whereas Cecilio had a different character.' He added: 'If disobeyed, he imposed excessive fines that he used to frighten villagers.' Under Cecilio's leadership, Flavio was expelled as a member of the Chillihuani community, accused of stirring conflicts around the administration of Rainbow Mountain. As Cecilio consolidated his power, the rift with Flavio and his camp got worse and worse. Edit had a front seat to the struggle. Between 2023 and 2024, she wrote over a dozen letters to her superiors, including the head of police in Cuzco, repeatedly demanding a permanent presence in Chillihuani to protect both villagers and tourists. She said Flavio demanded that the money be collected alongside the state in a way that would ensure a fair redistribution, but Cecilio insisted on maintaining control within the community. Tourists weren't spared as Chillihuani fought within itself. Tourism operators recalled in private conversations that sometimes vans would be hit by rocks in the middle of confrontations between the factions. Others received threats their vehicles would be torched. Sometimes there would be road blockades. At least one tourist died and 20 were injured in a traffic incident apparently tied to the poor conditions of the road, when a van flipped over. Several other tourists died by lightning at the top of the mountain. The confrontations occasionally reached local media. 'Tourism has only brought us problems, conflict, fights between communities,' a Chillihuani woman told a Cuzco TV station. 'It hasn't brought us the progress we wished for.' The conflict appeared to reach a breaking point in November 2023, with a physical altercation that garnered widespread attention among local media. 'It was terrible,' Filomeno said. The assailants 'beat me with whips, stoned me until I bled.' The fight finally drew the attention of Peru's government, which promised to broker negotiations for a peace deal. 'It is time to put an end to this and make it known that the state is present in these spaces,' said the head of Cuzco's tourism office at the time, Saul Caipani. He did not respond to requests for comment. Peru's government took eight months to schedule the first meeting. Dozens gathered in a Cuzco office in July 2024. One government official urged Cecilio and Flavio to 'hug it out.' He added: 'Why? Because we have to show maturity, unity and for the peace to be with us. No more violence, please.' People clapped. The parties were back in the same office a month later, on Aug. 8. But tensions were still sky high. There was almost an altercation, according to video of the meeting, and Cecilio ended up walking out. But before he did, he espoused his view: 'This is a natural attraction, it's made of soil, and so its administration belongs to the community, whether you like it or not,' he said. 'And if you all disagree, well, press charges against me or something.' 'That's where everything collapses,' Edit recalled. 'Just a few hours later, I wrote a memo to the police telling them to be alert.' In the memo, she told police to be alert for a possible confrontation on Aug. 10. That day, she reported a clash between Flavio and Cecilio's camps in the morning. Five police officers in one car headed over, finding a group of roughly 70 people that scattered upon seeing them. With no sign of violence, the authorities left. As the sun set on Saturday, Aug. 10, Flavio, Filomeno and his wife Rufina Vicente Noa got ready to attend a relative's wedding. They wore their best clothes. Rufina, a talented seamstress, had designed her own. She was also carrying $600 in cash as a present to the newlyweds. The three hopped on two motorcycles and drove down the road tourists clog in the mornings but abandon by lunch. A mob of around 80 people was waiting near the center of Chillihuani, by the village market. They hauled them off their motorcycles and threw them to the ground. 'Get out, damn it! We'll tie you to the post!,' Rufina recalled someone screaming. Desperate, the three family members fled into the hills they'd known their whole lives and past a school. People chased them, carrying rocks with some throwing stones toward a running Flavio, according to Rufina. A man screamed 'We'll kill you!,' she later told authorities. 'We're going to kill you, damn it! What are you doing down here, damn it!' They fled up a hill as the night set in, limiting their visibility. Outnumbered and without an easy way out, they were quickly caught. But not before Filomeno was able to call Edit. 'They are going to kill us! They are going to burn us alive!,' she recalled hearing Filomeno say. 'We need police!' Flavio took several hits. The crowd kicked him, punched him and continued to throw stones at him, according to court records. Rufina, Filomeno and at least two other witnesses placed Cecilio at the scene. Rufina attested that 'Cecilio came straight toward Flavio. He came to the hill where they were beating us and said 'Hey Flavio, where the hell are you?' 'I'll kill you right now.' He kicked him, hit him with a rock, hit him in the head, then he left.' (Cecilio and his defense have said this isn't true and that he was nowhere close to the attack, but rather in a neighboring other people awaiting trial in the case have also denied involvement.) 'Please, my dear sisters, don't do this to me,' Flavio pleaded shortly before dying of his injuries, authorities say. 'I've got nothing, don't do this to me,' Flavio added, according to a witness in the criminal case. As Flavio lay on the hillside, Rufina and Filomeno were dragged back into the center of town, which was now dimly illuminated by a burning motorcycle. Videos show the chaotic screaming that ensued. 'Grab that dog! Grab that dog!' 'Stand the fuck still!,' men screamed. A dialogue ensued between two other men. 'We have to burn him,' one said. 'Definitely, let's burn him,' the other replied. 'If we go to jail, we all go!,' the first man said. 'At least, we'll finally be at peace this way.' In the chaos, one man pondered. 'There are endless problems in our town,' he said, according to court records. 'If possible, they should just close down Rainbow Mountain.' Rufina and Filomeno said that the mob threw ashes mixed with urine and pepper into their eyes, threatened to burn them, threw the two motorcycles into the river and said they might do the same to them. They tied Filomeno's hands behind his back and tied him to a light post. 'They abused me cruelly,' Filomeno said. Rufina feared for his life and held onto him. The mob also burned her clothes and took the cash they meant to give as a wedding present, Rufina said. At one point, four police officers arrived at the scene in the district's only patrol car. They too were attacked and turned around, waiting for the safety of daylight. 'We were violently attacked with stones, sticks, bricks and other objects,' the officer in charge wrote in a report. As Rufina and Filomena were beaten, rumors started to swirl among the mob that one of the victims — Flavio — who had been left behind in the nearby hill, may have died of his injuries. Rufina and Filomeno think that realization led the mob to finally release them. They walked barefoot through the mountains down to the nearest city. 'Every time a car or motorcycle was coming, we hid among the trees,' she said. 'We thought they'd do the worst to us. We arrived in tears.' After Edit warned police, the broader community started to hear about the attack. That's when Ivcher got a call about Flavio. 'They told me 'your dad has been kidnapped. What do we do?,'' he recalled. When he arrived at the main town, several of his neighbors had gathered. Everyone was too scared to go up to Chillihuani and no taxi wanted to risk the trip either. He saw the damaged police car come back after being stoned. But then news came that Filomeno and Rufina had made it out. 'That gave me hope,' Ivcher recalled. 'My dad was very savvy and smart, and he knew how to take care of himself in difficult situations.' Having seen the attack on the police car, officials decided they would only go back to Chillihuani in the daytime, when over 100 police officers would arrive in two buses. Ivcher barely slept that night. 'The police arrived at 7 a.m.,' Ivcher said. They went up to Chillihuani together. 'I started running, looking for my dad. I saw the burned motorcycle that had been thrown into the river, it was chaos,' he added. He looked up to hills surrounding the village and saw a red spot and raced toward it, as he realized it was a person. It was Flavio. 'He was unrecognizable,' Ivcher said. Flavio's face was disfigured, covered in blood and with a big hole in his head. He was laying on his back wearing an orange jacket, a motorcycle helmet to his side. Prosecutors are still investigating who may have dealt the final blow that killed Flavio. 'I think it is public knowledge at this point that he was stoned and died from the injuries he received,' said Rina, the prosecutor, who had also made her way to Chillihuani that Sunday morning after hearing about the attack. Ivcher felt like he was waking up from a nightmare. 'I wanted to see how to resuscitate him, for him to say something, for him to tell me what had happened, who did it, something, a word. But no,' Ivcher said. He added: 'I was cold, in shock. How is it possible that my dad is no longer here?' Twenty Chillihuani community members were detained, in an operation led by Rina. Cecilio was arrested later that day in a neighboring community, where villagers detained him through a citizen's arrest after hearing what had happened. Cecilio has said he fled Chillihuani that day because he thought Flavio's people were trying to kill him and that he was long gone by the time the attack took place. A judge decided to release the detained women, but initially sent 12 men to almost two years of pre-trial detention that won't expire before May 2026, including Cecilio. The main witnesses are Filomeno and Rufina, although some defense lawyers have tried to discredit her account of the events because she is an illiterate woman. Flavio's widow, Vilma Illatinco, was overcome with grief and depression. She fainted at Flavio's funeral, which was attended by hundreds of people. Ivcher planned a fundraiser to be able to get her medical care. She died a week before the event. Ivcher now singlehandedly cares for his three younger brothers. The youngest, Hugo, just turned 11. He pulled him out of the public elementary school in Chillihuani, where children mimic the factions of their parents and reenact their disputes over Rainbow Mountain. Flavio's killing created an unofficial truce among community members. Though they haven't reached an enduring agreement over how to manage Rainbow Mountain, there haven't been any more fights and the route to the site continues to operate. 'I don't want to eat. I can't sleep. Sadness and worry overcome me,' Rufina said. Flavio's 'children are abandoned, his livestock is abandoned, his little animals are also abandoned. When my husband goes outside, I think the same is going to happen to him.' Ivcher has been struggling to make ends meet. He is studying economics and aspires to be a businessman one day, but is overwhelmed by the daily needs of his three younger siblings. Earlier this year, he sold some of his father's prized alpacas to make some cash, although he is aware that's not a sustainable option. He also teaches public speaking in Cuzco, where he tells his students they must always strive to feel 'excellent, excellent, excellent.' He prefers to show a tough exterior, focusing on the positive but acknowledges he sometimes can't stop himself from crying when he's alone. Edit went to see a priest out of guilt, telling him she felt powerless to stop Flavio's killing. But the key issue of who should run Rainbow Mountain remains far from resolved. One of Cecilio's advisers, a lawyer named John Berveno, has accused authorities of essentially trying to rob the mountain. 'The objective here is to strip away the administration from an Indigenous community. That is the motive,' he said in a hearing. 'For what? To then privatize the road?' Peru's Congress held its only hearing on Rainbow Mountain shortly after Flavio's death. It didn't reach any concrete conclusions, but it showed government officials are eager to have more control over the operation of the site. 'The locals should give up the Rainbow Mountain resource and hand it over, in this case to the province, the region, the country and, as a result, to humanity,' a government official told lawmakers. Last week authorities made a surprise arrest, detaining Ivan Choqque. Rina, the prosecutor, told Bloomberg that witness statements place him at the crime scene when Flavio was dealt a fatal blow. He was arrested in a remote town in the Peruvian Amazon. He, or a lawyer representing him, could not be reached for comment. Most tourists never hear about the travails and violence that plague Rainbow Mountain's residents. But Chillihuani is now a broken community. 'When I saw Flavio's body, it hurt me both for the family members as well as for the Chillihuani community members,' Rina recalled. 'Nobody ends up winning here.' Still, each morning, Flavio's mother Lorenza Yupanqui makes her way to Rainbow Mountain, where she sells arts and crafts to the tourists making the trek. It's now her livelihood, but a difficult one to be at peace with. 'When I see the place where my son died,' she said, 'and when I pass by, I think, 'Will these people hurt me too?'' Contributors: Daniel Remar and Yeymy Mamani Editors: Danielle Balbi, Stephen Wicary and Crayton Harrison More On Bloomberg Terms of Service Do Not Sell or Share My Personal Information Trademarks Privacy Policy Careers Made in NYC Advertise Ad Choices Help ©2025 Bloomberg L.P. All Rights Reserved.
Yahoo
10-07-2025
- Science
- Yahoo
Mexican fishermen join fight to save extraordinary amphibian
After decades working as a fisherman on a high-altitude Mexican lake, Froylan Correa is now helping to save an endangered amphibian with gills resembling a lion's mane and a remarkable regenerative ability. The achoque, also known as the Lake Patzcuaro salamander, is a lesser known relative of the axolotl, the small friendly- faced amphibian battling extinction in Mexico City. Overfishing, pollution and reduced water levels in Lake Patzcuaro, its only natural habitat, mean that the achoque is listed as critically endangered by the International Union for Conservation of Nature. In an attempt to prevent it disappearing, biologists from Michoacana University decided to pay the local Indigenous community of San Jeronimo Purenchecuaro to help the achoque to reproduce. Correa, who knows the lake in the western state of Michoacan like the back of his hand, has a new job as an amphibian egg collector. Now in his 60s, he remembers when the waters teemed with fish and there was no need to worry for the salamander. "There used to be a lot of achoques," he told AFP. "Now the new generation doesn't know about it." - From lab to lake - After the eggs are collected, biologist Rodolfo Perez takes them to his laboratory at Michoacana University to hatch, in the hope of giving the achoques a better chance of surviving. After the hatchlings have grown enough, they are moved to the community's achoque protection reserve, where the fishermen care for them until they are ready to be released into the lake, said Israel Correa, a relative of Froylan Correa. The achoque belongs to the Ambystoma group, keenly studied by scientists for an extraordinary ability to regenerate mutilated limbs and parts of organs such as the brain and heart. If one loses a tail, it quickly grows another. That has made the salamanders a subject of fascination for scientists hoping to learn lessons that could apply to humans. Since pre-Hispanic times, the achoque has been a source of food as well as a remedy used by Indigenous people for respiratory illnesses. Its skin color allows it to blend into its natural habitat. According to a local legend, the achoque was first an evil god who hid in the lake mud to escape the punishment of other deities. Perez is trying to hatch as many eggs as possible with the help of the locals to prevent its extinction. "It's been a lot of work," he said, adding that the biggest challenge is finding money to compensate the fishermen, since the achoques require constant care. Collaboration between scientists and the local community has helped to stabilize the achoque population, according to the researchers. There are an estimated 80 to 100 individuals who live in a small part of the lake, said Luis Escalera, another biologist at Michoacana University. The number, however, is "much lower than it was 40 years ago," he said. For the fishermen fighting to save them, it is a labor of love. "We can't miss a day without coming because otherwise they'll die," Israel Correa said at the achoque protection reserve on the shores of Lake Patzcuaro. "Come rain or shine, even if there's a festival, we have to be here." str-ai/axm/dr
News.com.au
10-07-2025
- Science
- News.com.au
Mexican fishermen join fight to save extraordinary amphibian
After decades working as a fisherman on a high-altitude Mexican lake, Froylan Correa is now helping to save an endangered amphibian with gills resembling a lion's mane and a remarkable regenerative ability. The achoque, also known as the Lake Patzcuaro salamander, is a lesser known relative of the axolotl, the small friendly- faced amphibian battling extinction in Mexico City. Overfishing, pollution and reduced water levels in Lake Patzcuaro, its only natural habitat, mean that the achoque is listed as critically endangered by the International Union for Conservation of Nature. In an attempt to prevent it disappearing, biologists from Michoacana University decided to pay the local Indigenous community of San Jeronimo Purenchecuaro to help the achoque to reproduce. Correa, who knows the lake in the western state of Michoacan like the back of his hand, has a new job as an amphibian egg collector. Now in his 60s, he remembers when the waters teemed with fish and there was no need to worry for the salamander. "There used to be a lot of achoques," he told AFP. "Now the new generation doesn't know about it." - From lab to lake - After the eggs are collected, biologist Rodolfo Perez takes them to his laboratory at Michoacana University to hatch, in the hope of giving the achoques a better chance of surviving. After the hatchlings have grown enough, they are moved to the community's achoque protection reserve, where the fishermen care for them until they are ready to be released into the lake, said Israel Correa, a relative of Froylan Correa. The achoque belongs to the Ambystoma group, keenly studied by scientists for an extraordinary ability to regenerate mutilated limbs and parts of organs such as the brain and heart. If one loses a tail, it quickly grows another. That has made the salamanders a subject of fascination for scientists hoping to learn lessons that could apply to humans. Since pre-Hispanic times, the achoque has been a source of food as well as a remedy used by Indigenous people for respiratory illnesses. Its skin color allows it to blend into its natural habitat. According to a local legend, the achoque was first an evil god who hid in the lake mud to escape the punishment of other deities. Perez is trying to hatch as many eggs as possible with the help of the locals to prevent its extinction. "It's been a lot of work," he said, adding that the biggest challenge is finding money to compensate the fishermen, since the achoques require constant care. Collaboration between scientists and the local community has helped to stabilize the achoque population, according to the researchers. There are an estimated 80 to 100 individuals who live in a small part of the lake, said Luis Escalera, another biologist at Michoacana University. The number, however, is "much lower than it was 40 years ago," he said. For the fishermen fighting to save them, it is a labor of love. "We can't miss a day without coming because otherwise they'll die," Israel Correa said at the achoque protection reserve on the shores of Lake Patzcuaro.
France 24
10-07-2025
- Science
- France 24
Mexican fishermen join fight to save extraordinary amphibian
The achoque, also known as the Lake Patzcuaro salamander, is a lesser known relative of the axolotl, the small friendly- faced amphibian battling extinction in Mexico City. Overfishing, pollution and reduced water levels in Lake Patzcuaro, its only natural habitat, mean that the achoque is listed as critically endangered by the International Union for Conservation of Nature. In an attempt to prevent it disappearing, biologists from Michoacana University decided to pay the local Indigenous community of San Jeronimo Purenchecuaro to help the achoque to reproduce. Correa, who knows the lake in the western state of Michoacan like the back of his hand, has a new job as an amphibian egg collector. Now in his 60s, he remembers when the waters teemed with fish and there was no need to worry for the salamander. "There used to be a lot of achoques," he told AFP. "Now the new generation doesn't know about it." From lab to lake After the eggs are collected, biologist Rodolfo Perez takes them to his laboratory at Michoacana University to hatch, in the hope of giving the achoques a better chance of surviving. After the hatchlings have grown enough, they are moved to the community's achoque protection reserve, where the fishermen care for them until they are ready to be released into the lake, said Israel Correa, a relative of Froylan Correa. The achoque belongs to the Ambystoma group, keenly studied by scientists for an extraordinary ability to regenerate mutilated limbs and parts of organs such as the brain and heart. If one loses a tail, it quickly grows another. That has made the salamanders a subject of fascination for scientists hoping to learn lessons that could apply to humans. Since pre-Hispanic times, the achoque has been a source of food as well as a remedy used by Indigenous people for respiratory illnesses. Its skin color allows it to blend into its natural habitat. According to a local legend, the achoque was first an evil god who hid in the lake mud to escape the punishment of other deities. Perez is trying to hatch as many eggs as possible with the help of the locals to prevent its extinction. "It's been a lot of work," he said, adding that the biggest challenge is finding money to compensate the fishermen, since the achoques require constant care. Collaboration between scientists and the local community has helped to stabilize the achoque population, according to the researchers. There are an estimated 80 to 100 individuals who live in a small part of the lake, said Luis Escalera, another biologist at Michoacana University. The number, however, is "much lower than it was 40 years ago," he said. For the fishermen fighting to save them, it is a labor of love. "We can't miss a day without coming because otherwise they'll die," Israel Correa said at the achoque protection reserve on the shores of Lake Patzcuaro.
