Save for yesterday’s 5:00 AM jarring explosion of cohetes (rockets — all bang, no bling) and clanging church bells coming from the Basílica de Nuestra Señora de la Soledad heralding the start of the celebrations for the Virgen de Juquila, the last thirty-two hours have been mostly muted, with only the occasional chiming bells and bursting cohetes — very quiet by Oaxaca standards.
Virgen de Juquila mural in Santa Cruz Xoxocotlán, Oaxaca — seen in 2013.
Procession honoring the Virgen de Juquila in front of the Cathedral in Oaxaca city — seen December 8, 2018.
Parish of Santo Tomás Xochimilco chapel to the Virgen de Juquila in Oaxaca city closed, by order dated March 17, 2020, to prevent the spread of Covid-19 — seen May 24, 2020.
Due to Covid-19 concerns, in consultation with Oaxaca’s health department, the archbishop of Oaxaca cancelled holy processions through the streets and called upon the faithful to forego pilgrimmages. This is especially sad for Santa Catarina Juquila, where Juquila’s shrine is located, as just last week it was announced the town had been designated a Mexican Pueblo Mágico. The archbishop also ordered churches closed, with masses to be celebrated and broadcast from behind locked doors during December’s festivities honoring the Virgen de Juquila (December 8), the Virgen de Guadalupe (December 12), and the Virgen de La Soledad (December 18).
Now if only other people and places would take this pandemic as seriously.
What an unusual yet lovely (and delicious) Thanksgiving 2020 was.
Cranberry/pear relish bubbling on the stove.
After the fact, I realized this was only the second Thanksgiving I’ve shared with just one other person. Childhood dinners were filled with parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Even the Thanksgiving I spent in Denmark, the international school I attended prepared a turkey with all the fixin’s dinner — to the delight of the American students and curiosity of the other international students and Danes. Once married, we hosted or joined family and/or friends — and that has been my tradition ever since, even here in Oaxaca.
Sage dressing with whole wheat bread, celery, onions, and carrots.
Keeping Covid-19 protocols in mind, Kalisa, my (now famous) friend, neighbor, and cocinera extraordinaire and I decided we would persevere in an attempt to carry on with an albeit downsized celebration of just the two of us on my terrace. For the main course, we ruled out turkey, discarded chicken as not special, and settled on repeating the success of rabbit — concluding it would go well with my cranberry/pear relish and sage dressing. And, who knows? The indigenous peoples may have proffered rabbit to the starving and clueless foreigners.
Roast rabbit à la Kalisa.
So, we made our own pilgrimage up to Pochote Mercado Orgánico in Colonia Reforma to again purchase the criollo rabbit Kalisa would be preparing. A couple of days later, at Mercado IV Centenario, we happened upon camotes/sweet potatoes to be used for her “pumpkin” cheesecake. Unlike my first several Thanksgivings here, when bags of fresh cranberries could only be found at Mercado Hidalgo, I was able to purchase all the ingredients for my cranberry/pear relish at Mercado Benito Juárez. As for the dressing, I still had some Bell’s Seasoning brought from the USA a couple of years ago, and the rest was easily found. Looking at our menu, it occurred to me that perhaps we needed something green. That was easily solved with some baby lettuce from my garden (alas, no photo).
Pumpkin cheesecake with caramel topping.
And so it was, a Thanksgiving where two friends gave thanks for our very present blessings — friendship, health, abundance, and being welcomed into the beautiful and loving arms of Oaxaca.
Two friends giving thanks on a rooftop terrace in Oaxaca.
By the way, the place settings were for photo-op purposes only. We retired with filled plates and glasses of wine to the south end of the terrace where we could sit and eat 8 feet apart.
Yesterday, Mexico celebrated the National Day of Mexican Gastronomy and the tenth anniversary of traditional Mexican cuisine being designated by UNESCO as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. Due to pandemic restrictions, in the absence of being able to savor the sights, smells, and flavors of a food festival, I honor the day with a photo of one of Oaxaca’s ubiquitous street food stalls.
This one, at the corner of Matamoros and García Vigil, always has customers — big and little, seated and standing, human and canine.
Living and being in Oaxaca during the Días de los Muertos is hard to put into words. There is so much to experience and to think about. It is the ofrendas that touch me the most — they are all so personal, even those on display to the public. And, one of the unexpected delights of tracking down the chairs of the Silla Calavera project, was to see the Day of the Dead ofrendas constructed by the hotels and restaurants also displaying the chairs.
Casa Antica, Av. José María Morelos.Plaza Las Vírgenes, Calle Labastida. Only very occasionally do fires break out!Utilitario Mexicano, Mariano Matamoros.La Casa de las Artesanías, Mariano Matamoros.Hotel Casa Garay, Calle Miguel Cabrera.On the Zócalo, ofrenda for Tomás Martínez, a leader of the Frente Popular Revolucionario.La Mano Mágica, Calle Macedonio Alcalá. Photo of Arnulfo Mendoza on the top right. I can’t believe it’s been 6-1/2 years since his passing.Hotel Trébol, Ricardo Flores Magón.Hotel Casa Vertiz, Calle Reforma.Hotel Marqués Del Valle, bordering the Zócalo.Jardín Sócrates neveria next to Basilica of Nuestra Señora de Soledad.
Sensory overload challenges the limits of heart and mind and, especially this year, my emotions ran the gamut from extreme exhilaration to quiet joy to being moved to tears.
In my effort to “step away” from the US election news, I went in search of the fourteen chairs of the “Silla Calavera” project scattered throughout restaurants and hotels in the city — a creative and calorie-burning distraction!
Artist: Juana Vicente Ortega Fuentes, decorative painter; displayed at Pitiona restaurant. Title: Levantada de Cruz (Raised Cross).Artist: Fabián Pacheco, metalwork artisan; displayed at Gozobi restaurant. Title: Tradición y costumbre (Tradition and practice). Artist: Francisca Calvo, wooden alebrije artisan; displayed at Pitiona restaurant. Title: Platicando sobre las costumbres de mi pueblo (Talking about customs of my people).Artist: Jesús Sosa Calvo, wooden alebrije artisan; displayed at Hotel Parador. Title: Como ves te ves (As you see you see).
The project arose as an idea to spread the traditions of Oaxaca through artistic creations using an object of daily life — a comforting and comfortable seat, where each artist, through their creativity and respect for the dead, exposes the face of a skull.
Artists: Taller de Barro Zamani, polychrome clay artisans; displayed at Terranova restaurant. Title: Muertos que viven (The dead who live).Artists: Erika Nancy Carrillo Carreño, Montserrat Mandujano, Eliézer Vargas García, artesanas de la Costa oaxaqueña; displayed at Hotel Trébol. Title: Colores de vida y muerte (Colors of life and death).Artist: Colectivo Zegache (Alejandro Mendoza, Eleuteria Pacheco Mendoza, Edith Santo Méndez, Nancy Martínez Gaspar); displayed at Hotel Casa Garay. Title: Dxi tu gúl (Zapotec, unable to translate).Artist: Meletón Lazo, surrealist artist; displayed at Hotel Ferri. Title: Flor de piña (Pineapple flower dance).
Unfortunately, this next chair had been disassembled by the time I arrived, but here, in two parts, the back and the seat.
Artist: Gabriel Sosa, wooden alebrije artisan; seat back at Los Danzantes restaurant. Title: Fiesta de colores (Festival of colors).Artist: Gabriel Sosa, wooden alebrije artisan; seat at Los Danzantes restaurant. Title: Fiesta de colores (Festival of colors).
The artisans, I think with great success, sought to capture and share their roots, customs, and traditions.
Artist: Marcos Lucero, painter; displayed at Hotel Santa Rosa. Title: Bii tugul/Viento de muertos (Wind of the dead).Artist: Juan Lazo, landscape painter; displayed at El Asador Vasco restaurant. Title: La muerte es mas vida (Death is life).Artists: Paulino Ramirez and Eduardo Ramirez, painting and wooden alebrijes; displayed at Restaurant Casa Palmeras. Title: La última luz (The last light).Artist: Alfonso Canseco Peligro, graphic artist; displayed at La Mala restaurant. Title: Siéntate, vamos a tomar (Sit down and let’s drink).Artists: Luis Lazo and family, textile artists; displayed at Hotel Casa Vertiz. Title: Ciclo de vida (Cycle of life).
Yesterday, the chairs were removed from the restaurants and hotels. Tonight, with an inaugural celebration, they went on display at ARIPO until November 15, 2020. For purchase after that date, contact Matlacihua Arte or individual artists.
Even the recycling bins in Oaxaca are getting into the spirit of Day of the Dead.
Calle Independencia side of the Catedral de Nuestra Señora de la AsunciónIn front of the Iglesia de GuadalupeZócalo side of the Catedral de Nuestra Señora de la Asunción
And cempasúchil (marigolds) to beckon the difuntos (departed), plastic bottles, and tin cans.
These are strange days leading up to our departed coming to call while we are living in the time of Covid-19. With public activities canceled, thus no nightly calendas (parades) filling the streets and our ears, and fewer tourists, Oaxaca is experiencing more peace and tranquility this Day of the Dead season — albeit laced with a touch of melancholy and anxiety.
Masked and shielded, I braved the mostly local crowds south of the zócalo, to shop for cempasuchil (marigolds), cresta de gallo (cockscomb), apples, mandarin oranges, peanuts and pecans, chocolate, and pan de muertos (Day of the Dead bread) — but it wasn’t nearly as much fun as years past.
However, the joy returned when I unwrapped photographs of my parents, grandparents, and other loved ones; selected some of their favorite things to put on my ofrenda; placed the fruit, nuts, bread, and chocolate among the photos; positioned candles, flowers, and incense; and poured my departed a copita (little cup) of water and another of mezcal — all to beckon, entertain, and sustain them during their brief stay.
I’m looking forward to a more personal and reflective Día de Muertos this year.
Cempasúchil (marigolds), the flowers synonymous with Day of the Dead, have begun appearing throughout the city. Alas, not in the quantity we are used to.
As I have written previously, because of the acceleration of the Covid-19 cases, the City of Oaxaca will not permit public Day of the Dead celebrations and events.
So it’s a subdued Día de Muertos season we are living.
While the yellows and oranges of the marigolds seem to mirror the semáforo amarillo and naranja (yellow and orange Covid-19 traffic lights) we are bouncing between, they brighten the days and impart a familiar and welcome scent.
Oaxaca de Juárez, China Oaxaqueña dancer and Mazapán, the dancing dog.Huautla de Jiménez dancer.Danza de la Pluma dancer from Oaxaca’s central valley.
Living vicariously in these days of COVID-19 — be it through books, online concerts and museum tours, video events, and photos of people and places we are longing to see.
To borrow a line from Cole Porter, Oaxaca regrets there will be no Muertos this year, señora.
Due to a rebound in positive Covid-19 cases in both the capital and state (we are back in traffic lightorange — with red threatening), yesterday the city council of Oaxaca unanimously voted to cancel all Day of the Dead activities (NVI Noticias). That means there will be no comparsas (parades), altar displays, sand paintings, costume contests, and no cemetery visits. Other municipalities are expected to follow suit. If you have plans to be here for Día de Muertos, I strongly urge you to reconsider.
Given this sad and sobering news and the above Catrín and Catrina seen on this morning’s walk, I keep flashing on the Cole Porter song, Miss Otis Regrets — especially this dirge-like version by Kristy MacColl.
This is serious and no time to let your guard down. Please practice social distancing, wash your hands frequently, and for goodness sake, cover your mouth AND nose with a mask when out in public!!!
While flags are flying, bunting is up, and carts are selling the usual green, white, and red patriotic paraphernalia, it’s not your usual Mexican Independence celebrations.
It is the night before Independence Day, but there are no crowds gathered in the zócalo to hear the governor re-create the Grito de Dolores from the balcony of the Government Palace. Tomorrow there will be no patriotic parade through the streets of the city of Oaxaca. Mexican Independence celebrations during the time of Covid-19.
However, there is a song from Lila Downs…
(ps) The flags above are flying at half staff because the photos were taken on September 13, 2020, the day Mexico commemorates the legend of the 1847 Niños Héroes — boy cadets martyred during the Mexican-American war.
The Secretaría de las Culturas y Artes de Oaxaca (Secretariat of the Cultures and Arts of Oaxaca) and the Comité de Autenticidad (Authenticity Committee) have selected this year’s Guelaguetza delegations from video taken from the years 2017 to 2019. The performances will be broadcast by CORTV, both on television and on their Facebook page.
July 20, 2020 – Morning delegations and dances:
July 20, 2020 – Evening delegations and dances:
July 27, 2020 – Morning delegations and dances:
July 27, 2020 – Evening delegations and dances:
This year’s poster image is the work of Montserrat Alhelí Steck Ortiz and was chosen out of 67 entries. Titled, Trenzando Magía (Braiding Magic), according to this article the artist explained that she wanted to begin with the image of woman as symbol of mother earth and giver of all wealth — exemplified by the peasant working the land and tending Oaxaca’s iconic maguey. The image then illustrates the be-ribboned braids reaching out to capture the joy found in the colors, textures and dances of the eight regions of Oaxaca.
It’s July, corn planting time and “Mes de la Guelaguetza” (month of the Guelaguetza) — a time when Oaxaca recognizes and celebrates the sixteen indigenous groups whose languages, traditions, and maize cultures long predate the arrival of the Spanish conquistadors and permeate the character of the state. However, all is quiet in the streets. Due to the dreaded virus, there will be no live and in-person Guelaguetza 2020.
All is not lost; the “máxima fiesta” and its ancillary activities have gone virtual — broadcasting on TV and online.
Click on each image to read the dates and details for the book presentations, art exhibitions, lectures, and music and dance performances — including how to watch.
Villa de Zaachila is even holding a virtual Guelaguetza 2020, accessed from the Facebook page, “Guelaguetza Virtual Zaachila 2020”
It may not be up close and personal, but if you are missing the sights and sounds of la Guelaguetza, it’s better than nothing! And, if the above isn’t enough, you might want to scroll through my Guelaguetza blog posts from previous years.
Mexican Peso Converter
View From Casita Colibrí 