How international cooperation led to the creation of hidden wealth in Baja California

ENSENADA, Mexico — In an arid hillside village southeast of Ensenada, where electricity and running water are scarce and dogs roam, a treasure can be found on the grounds of an elementary school.

You can’t see it on the street, where the city’s palette ranges from dusty brown to grey. But walk past the principal’s office, take a short detour, and you’ll be rewarded with an 80-foot mural bursting with color.

What is impressive, however, is the way in which the collective culture of the wall, bridged the age gap and erased boundaries.

I found out about the local treasure known as El Paraiso en Maneadero a few weeks ago from a pickle friend named Tom Wiley. He and his wife, Dana Bonda, are retired attorneys who have spent decades on the south coast of Ensenada, where they have been involved in a variety of local issues.

Wiley showed me a book, a hit, called “Proyecto de Mural.” It tells the story of how the project came to be, with photos of 12 young artists at work. One of them, 13-year-old David Vasquez Garcia, says in the book that his creation of Mexican folk art was one part bull, one part cucaracha, and one part imagination.

I liked what I saw, and headed south to see the mural.

Wiley and Bonda made history for me. Bonda volunteered at art classes founded by French immigrant Bernard Brunon and his American wife Nancy Ganucheau. Bonda also volunteered at a library project started by travelers Debra Blake and Carol Woodruff, splitting time between Southern California and Baja.

The mobile library system was located in the campus that houses Escuela Colosio and Escuela Bocanegra. On his visit, Bonda noticed that the empty cinderblock wall near the porch could use a living space.

How about a mural, he thought.

Mariana Rodriguez Elizarraraz looks at an art book during a food and clothing distribution near El Maneadero.

Bonda funded the project through a non-profit organization he founded years ago, and at the end of the 2025 school year, students took up the challenge. With Bruno’s guidance, they started with small sketches, and eventually dipped brushes into paint cans.

They work over the summer and apply the finishing touches during the fall semester. The mural greeted hundreds of students as they returned from summer vacation, and townspeople stopped by to see what all the talk was about.

Almost before the paint was dry, the mural could be heard.

Before I started looking, I walked with the volunteers past the school and up the unpaved streets of the town, which is home to families who have resettled here from Oaxaca and other southern regions of Mexico to work in the fields of cabbage, strawberries and other crops. The schools are bilingual, which means teaching in Spanish but also in Mixtec and other languages.

We were headed to the church on top of the hill, Casa de Gracia, to donate clothes and food for the monthly event organized by volunteers. On this day, the cart will be sold at auction.

David Vasquez Garcia welcomes Carol Woodruff during a food and clothing distribution near Escuela Colosio.

“A stroller is a life saver here,” said Woodruff as mothers carrying small children appeared from all directions as they climbed the winding dirt roads.

When the youth saw Woodruff, they called his name and ran to hug him. Her Spanish is strong and her heart is big, and she is the one mothers often call when they are hungry or sick or need to talk to someone they trust about their burdens.

Woodruff and her husband, Gary, each had a truck driven up the hill, hers filled with donated clothing and his with tables and other donated items. Blake, who had set up a mobile library with Woodruff, arrived a few minutes later with food and some clothing.

Other young artists showed up, including David, who arrived on his bicycle. He was the one who said his creation was a combination of cucaracha, toro and imagination, and I told him I was excited to see the mural for the first time.

Details of the painting done by local students and families at the elementary school Luis Donaldo Colosio Murrieta

Danna, 16, one of the young artists, helped distribute the clothes along with her grandmother and mother, Maria Magdalena Gracida, who told me that she appreciates not only the donations of the volunteers, but their dedication to the families.

I had a copy of “Proyecto de Mural” with me, and David looked at it with another artist Mariana Rodriguez Elizarras, 13. Mariana said they learned a lot of art, but the real joy was the experience of doing something together.

Mariana has a serious side to her — a look of confidence and determination.

I asked what he wanted to be as an adult.

Said the lawyer. Or a singer.

Or both.

Near the church is a cluster of several homes that share an outhouse and an outdoor wood-fired grill for communal cooking. Mariana took me into her home, where a certificate of academic achievement hung on the wall. He removed the frame to reveal a few more certificates safely tucked under the first one, like a bunch of reminders to keep climbing.

As we walked down the mountain to the school, I thought about how these relationships were built at a time when the broader narrative of immigration and international relations is so dark.

“We are immigrants here,” said Wiley. “And as far as I know, we’ve been accepted.”

Nancy Ganechau, left, is shown to 26-year-old Ricardo by his mother, Christina, during a food and clothing distribution near El Maneadero.

Baja transplants seem to come in all forms, including donors, land grabbers and gentrifiers. Some fled to the north to escape President Trump’s politics, others fled the liberal principles that preceded him, and others migrated to the south due to economic necessity.

Among the volunteers I met, motivation seems to be more personal than political. Scott Kennedy, a US artist who helped with the mural project, called the experience one of the greatest joys of his life. His advice to students, Kennedy said, is to “give the wall a chance, and see what you can do.”

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1. Juan de Dios Ramirez Gonzalez, the principal of the elementary school stands in front of part of the mural he helped create. 2. Felipa Sanchez Cruz stands in front of the Alebrijes she helped paint at the elementary school Luis Donaldo Colosio Murrieta.

I’m not an art critic, but I’d say they’ve created a little masterpiece.

In fact, it is not small. The mural, which is funny and thoughtful at the same time, is about 30 yards long and 10 feet high. It includes mythical creatures, the Aztec calendar and landscapes, all with bright primary colors rich in emotion.

One of the singers, 13-year-old Yoselin Pacheco Ruiz, seemed to be very happy as the students and adults were busy. I asked what he was smiling about.

“Because I’m so happy with the mural,” he said, eyes twinkling.

Part of a mural created by local students and families at the Luis Donaldo Colosio Murrieta Elementary School in Ensenada.

The wall didn’t cooperate at first. It was cracked, water leaking, and fixing it was an expensive headache. Emmanuel Hurtado, the superintendent of the school, said he was impressed by the persistence of the old volunteers. Wanting to help people, he said, “is something they put in their hearts.”

Hurtado said he has seen the children grow up in this center and he is proud of them. Under Bruno’s guidance, he watched them paint the landscape and Oaxacan culture from which many of them came.

“All of this came from the children’s ideas,” said Hurtado. They are simply told, ‘Think about something that was born to you, something that is a symbol.’ And they did.”

Some of the parents and even grandparents helped, and the last character in the picture was added by Principal Juan de Dios Ramirez. He told me that his Aztec rain god was painted in recognition of the agricultural economy that supported student families.

Students were released from class at Luis Donaldo Colosio Murrieta.

(Ronaldo Bolaños / Los Angeles Times)

As the students celebrated their success with a taco lunch, their love for Bruno was clear. It was he, to them, who made it an object of learning and a joy of love, and they revolved around him.

“In the end, I think they didn’t want it to end,” Bruno said, explaining that when the painting was finished, they kept insisting that they needed to make a touch here and there.

It was Bruno who produced the book that tells the story of the wealth of El Paraiso de Maneadero, and when it was published earlier this year, he gave it to each student and others who participated.

Danna and her mother received a copy, and the mother, Maria Magdalena, said she keeps their books sealed in a bag for protection.

“It is very important to me,” he said, “because it was a great success, after working hard, and we are proud of it.”

steve.lopez@latimes.com