Majorero Heritage: The Poverty That Saved Treasures

Between the naked walls of the Convent of San Buenaventura in Betancuria we met heritage‑restoration expert and cultural‑goods conservator Loren Mateo Castañeyra. From there we jump forward in time to modern Fuerteventura to explore the remnants of the old Puerto de Cabras, where the surviving cornice still holds “the living memory” of the island’s capital.

Under the ruins of the centuries‑old Franciscan convent, Mateo Castañeyra recalls how, in Betancuria, “another new culture was born” with the arrival of the Franciscans and colonisation in the early 15th century. He champions the austere beauty of Majorero heritage, a cultural nakedness that mirrors the island’s landscape:

“Fuerteventura is very rich in many things—its landscape, its churches, its hermitages, its archaeology, which is just beginning to be discovered. Perhaps it was considered a poor island from the perspective of other islands, but it is actually very rich in many cultural elements. Its archaeological heritage has a wealth we still don’t know how to exploit,” the expert explains.

Paradoxically, as he develops in the fifth episode of Mares de Jable, the very scarcity that once marked Fuerteventura prevented the alterations that later generations would lament. He rejects the notion that poverty implies inferiority, noting that those who “absolutely despised it” are now the ones recognizing the island’s historic paintings:

“Here we have a fantastic pictorial, sculptural and retable collection, as well as pulpits. The richness is enormous.”

The Impact of Vatican II

A turning point arrived after the Second Vatican Council, when liturgical reforms led to the removal of altar tables and pulpits in many churches. In Fuerteventura, however, the lack of funds meant those changes never happened, preserving a larger number of pulpits and retables than on neighboring Lanzarote, where money allowed extensive renovations.

“Because there was no money to make those changes, they stayed, and that legacy has reached us. For example, Fuerteventura still has many more pulpits and retables than Lanzarote, where they were replaced. The original stone arches of the churches, made of local masonry, were also preserved.”

He notes the striking contrast between the plain white exteriors of the hermitages and the vivid interiors, although many mural paintings have been lost:

“The simplicity and whiteness of the hermitages on the outside, with nothing but white, makes the colorful interiors astonishing. Today we see less of that because many mural paintings have disappeared.”

Links to the Wider World

Even the island’s trade connections surface in the art. In the retable of Santa María de Betancuria, the attic panel depicts a cacao pod—a fruit never cultivated locally.

“The image of the cacao seed, with its bright colours, offers a striking contrast to the simple white of the hermitages. It’s a reminder of the exchanges with Central America.”

He imagines the experience of a dusty traveler entering a church:

“Imagine coming from the dusty countryside and suddenly stepping into an artificial garden of paint. It must have created a tremendous impact.”

The Poverty That Inspired Unamuno

Mateo Castañeyra recalls that poverty sometimes preserves what wealth cannot, a notion echoed in a sonnet by Miguel de Unamuno. When Unamuno visited the Canary Islands in 1910, he was invited to the Las Palmas Floral Games. The poet’s reaction to the festivities was scathing:

“I have a habit of attending such parties, which I tolerate only for their sentimental side. I am hostile to them, but I accept them as a pretext to speak… I do not like these parties because they profane the most sacred thing in man, the word, in its noblest form, which is poetry.” – Miguel de Unamuno, Teatro Pérez Galdós, 1910.

According to the conservator, Unamuno was the first to recognise the island’s beauty, even in its poverty:

“Fuerteventura is an island for hermits and thinkers, not like Las Palmas or Tenerife, which are artificial gardens for tourists.”

“Worse Restorations Than Time Itself”

He warns that well‑intentioned but uninformed interventions can be more damaging than the passage of time:

“When a restorer starts to ‘create’ things they don’t know existed, or uses inappropriate materials, it’s sheer barbarism. Often the intervention is a bigger problem than time itself.”

He calls on authorities to extend restoration policies beyond officially protected sites, including popular houses and other unlisted assets:

“Even if the law doesn’t explicitly protect them, they should be restored in the same way. The best compliment a restorer can receive is that a work looks as if it were never restored.”

The Franciscan Cord: Austerity in Landscape and Materials

For Mateo Castañeyra, the island’s landscape and its heritage are intertwined, reflecting Franciscan values of humility, poverty, and austerity. He envisions a “Franciscan cord” of roughly thirty hermitages scattered across hills and mountains, forming a cultural thread through Fuerteventura.

He advocates minimal intervention, respecting original styles and local materials:

• Stone and earth mortar (often just clay) for walls.
• Lime‑based plaster and local sand for finishes.
• Lime paint rather than cement, which damages historic fabric.

Puerto de Cabras: A Vision for the Future

The interview concludes on the maritime front of the capital. In the area now known as Las Escuevas, where cars now dominate, the old Puerto de Cabras once jutted directly into the sea from the surviving cornice—a “living memory” of the island’s natural entry point.

“It’s the only thing left of Puerto de Cabras, the natural gateway from the sea.”

Mateo Castañeyra laments the lack of a historic centre in Puerto del Rosario, attributing it to a “lack of pride.” He argues that humble houses deserve the same respect as grander structures:

“Just because a house is modest doesn’t diminish its importance. Here it has great value because it’s not a single house but a whole ensemble that shows what could have been.”

He proposes reviving the name Puerto de Cabras for the central neighbourhood, turning it into a symbolic district that honors the island’s past:

“If we could call the central neighbourhood ‘Puerto de Cabras,’ it would serve as a reminder of our heritage.”

To prevent further loss, he stresses awareness:

“If people don’t know about it, they won’t value or protect it. We must highlight, illuminate, and teach it.”

Despite urban pressures to demolish the cornice for a five‑storey building, he remains optimistic:

“The cornice will not be torn down; no sensible person would allow that loss.”

Patrimonio: “The memory we have” – Mares de Jable #5 (podcast link)

Related podcasts: “From Paper to Pixel”, “Juan Miguel Cubas: Stone, Metal and Soul”, “The Fusion of Tetir and Puerto Cabras”, “The Power of the Word, the Reason of a People”