Recycling in Oaxaca continues — slowly but surely. But, honestly, who can resist filling these hearts around Parque El Llano/Paseo Juarez?
Here in Jalatlaco, we are not asked to separate our trash, but I think I will begin taking my plastic agua mineral (mineral water) bottles down to this heart next to the Templo de San Matías Jalatlaco.
This is a program, begun in 2019, by the city’s Desarrollo Integral de la Familia, a governmental agency charged with strengthening and developing the welfare of the Mexican families.
Unsurprisingly, on Monday Oaxaca went back to Covid-19 Semáforo Naranja (orange traffic light) — meaning there is a high risk of contagion of the virus. On Wednesday, it was reported there were 479 new COVID-19 patients, the highest figure of the year.
Unfortunately, having had to run a few errands over the past few days, I haven’t seen any changes in people’s behavior, business/government/museum closings, nor enforcement of the mask wearing mandate — only an announcement by the archbishop that churches would be limited to 25% capacity.
It is demoralizing and infuriating and all I can do is continue to wear a cubreboca (face mask) whenever I’m out and about, practice social distancing, and try to stay sane. As for the latter, I’m choosing to concentrate on and appreciate my favorite things.
People, real and imagined, waiting for the bus on Av. Benito Juárez.
Ensalada de pulpo (Octopus salad) at Barrio de Jalatlaco Restaurante.
A turquoise building, meters, and mural on Calle La Alianza in Barrio de Jalatlaco.
Water lily in the pond of Museo de Filatelia de Oaxaca (Stamp Museum).
We are all tired. However, unless people take this extremely seriously, get vaccinated, and continue to mask up and practice social distancing, “normal” will not return and our fellow humans (including loved ones) will needlessly continue to suffer and die. As a current meme suggests, let us all practice humility, kindness, and community.
Another year of Covid-19 means another year without an up close and personal Guelaguetza on the last two Mondays of July. Like last year performances and events are going virtual. However, unlike last year, when video of the dancing was taken from the years 2017 to 2019, this year the delegations will be performing live from their villages.
In Teotitlán del Valle, the fiesta honoring Preciosa Sangre de Nuestro Señor Jesucristo is the most important one of the year. It lasts eight days, includes two convites (processions), several special masses, and (in non Covid years) two fireworks’ displays. However, the highlight for visitors and villagers is the four performances of the Danza de la Pluma by the Grupo de Danza de Pluma Promesa.
El Picacho, the sacred mountain, watches over the village and the dancers.
The choreography includes athletic leaps, twists and turns, and complex footwork.
Maneuvering the penachos/coronas/headdresses as the dancers navigate the step takes strength and timing.
The Danza de la Pluma is a ritual re-enactment of the Spanish conquest. The full version is told in 41 bailes (dances) and lasts from early afternoon into the night. It is danced by folkloric groups throughout the valley of Oaxaca. However, in Teotitlán, it is a three year religious commitment.
Rattles, paddles, and breastplates of old coins are part of the dancers’ costume.
In Teotitlán del Valle, Moctezuma’s penacho features the symbol of Mexico: Eagle and serpent on a cactus.
Moctezuma, accompanied by a Danzante, with Doña Marina and La Malinche
Moctezuma, Danzantes, Subalternos, Malinche, and Doña Marina are selected years in advance and make a promise to their god and, thus, their church and community to learn and perform the dance at each of the four annual major religious festivals in the village and any other special occasion they are called upon to dance.
LaMalinche.
The dance divides the historic person of Doña Marina and La Malinche into two characters.
Doña Marina.
A 20+ piece orchestra accompanies the dancers, playing a musical score mostly comprised of waltzes, polkas, mazurkas, quadrilles, and schottisches. The first time I saw the Danza de la Pluma, I experienced a bit of cognitive dissonance at the contrast between the costumes and the music. A little research (after all, I’m a librarian) provided the explanation. At the end of the 19th century, when all things European were being celebrated in Mexico, an orchestra playing European music replaced the original indigenous teponaztli (drum) and chirimía (flute).
Subalterno providing a little comic relief.
Wearing their trademark cross between a boar and bear wooden black masks, Subalternos posing for the camera.
Subalterno taking a break from his Aide-de-Camp duties of offering water to the dancers, dealing with wardrobe malfunctions, clearing debris from dance floor, and entertain spectators.
On two of the days the dancers dance for four hours and the other two, they dance for seven hours. The sun can be brutal and the wind can wreak havoc with the penachos. I don’t know how they do it — their stamina is astounding! I only managed to attend a few hours each at three of the performances. However, I will be back in September for the Natividad de la Virgen María fiesta.
A much needed pause in nesting at the new Casita Colibrí was in order. Teotitán del Valle’s patronal festival of the Preciosa Sangre de Cristo beckoned. The pandemic had closed the village for many months and precluded attending any of the 2020 fiestas. However, with mask on, I returned to spend three days. First on the schedule was Monday evening’s convite (procession) inviting the community to the fiesta.
Lining up in front of Iglesia Preciosa Sangre de Cristo for the convite.
Canastas ground level before being lifted onto the heads of the young unmarried women chosen to participate.
Cohetero (aka, rocket man) mugging before lighting the fuse.
Anticipating the big bang!
Tambor player who has walked many miles.
Young percussion player with many miles yet to walk.
As the shadows lengthened, the convite wound its way through the streets of Teotitlán del Valle.
Doña Marina, Moctezuma, and La Malinche bringing up the rear.
Villagers gather at their favorite location to watch the passage of the convite.
Convite taking over the main street in Teotitlán del Valle.
Danzantes under the watchful gaze of El Picacho.
Subalterno keeping on keeping up.
The return trip to the iglesia.
After almost an hour, the convite re-entered the atrium of the iglesia.
Watching and contemplating — the end.
The last festival in Teotitlán that I attended, before Covid-19 turned the world sideways, was the Fiesta de La Virgen del Rosario in October 2019. The warm welcome I received at the convite on Monday was incredibly touching and I admit to tearing up a little as it began.
Many of my View From Casita Colibrí regular readers have expressed concern regarding how the garden survived the move. I want to assure you, though it desperately needs landscaping, the plants are surviving and thriving in their new home.
Flor de Mayo
Night Blooming Cereus
Cayenne pepper
Crown of Thorns
Madagascar Jasmine
Buddha belly plant (Jatropha podagrica)
Methinks it is, in no small part, due to our daily late afternoon downpours. It is the rainiest rainy season since 2010 — at least that I can remember!
I know, the recent blog posts have been few and far between — and they will continue to be so for a couple of weeks. After twelve years, I am moving across town to a new-to-me, but old to the city, neighborhood. In the meantime, enjoy photos from our recent comida at the Tierra Antigua cocina de humo (traditional outdoor kitchen).
Tierra Antigua cocinera, Carina SantiagoSopa de guíasTortillas hot off the comalMole almendradoKalisa and the sheepNieve de mango
Stay tuned for news from the new Casita Colibrí neighborhood and home.
The pandemic hit soon thereafter and my adventures outside the city ceased.
Needless to say, I got a little emotional as I reconnected with sights, sounds, and, most of all, friends.
There wasn’t nearly enough time to check in with everyone as we (visitors from California and I) had been invited for comida at Tierra Antigua.
We spent hours and hours dining on delicious food prepared by Carina Santiago and her staff and catching up with her family and Kalisa, who is now based in Teotitlán.
However, now that I and many of my older friends in Teotitlán are fully vaccinated, I will be back soon!
Alive, well, back in Oaxaca, and enjoying the views from Casita Colibrí.
Looking west at Templo de San José and the Basilica de la Soledad with Monte Albán in the distance.
I arrived three days ago and, unbeknownst to me (as it was supposed to go all the way through to Oaxaca) my checked bag was held up in customs at the Mexico City airport. I can’t imagine what the problem was. Perhaps 5 dry sticks of Sure deodorant? 4 pairs of gardening gloves (1 for me 3 for gifts)? 3 used books? Or, maybe the 15 used compost-able plastic bags I brought back to line my waste baskets? No explanation was forthcoming, but they did put my suitcase on the next flight that evening and delivered it to my apartment around 9 PM — nothing confiscated, no customs fee, and NOTHING missing!
Looking south toward Oaxaca’s airport.
From the evening I returned, I began sneezing, nose began running, and I developed a head-crushing sinus headache. Except for a quick trip to the pharmacy to buy an allergy medicine, I spent all Tuesday in bed. This has never happened before, but everyone is telling me that this season, this year is really bad for allergies. By Wednesday, I was feeling a little stuffy, but much better.
Sunset looking north.
The rainy season was just beginning when I left six weeks ago and now, the hills are turning green, the garden is lush, and tonight, as the sun sets, thunder is rumbling, lightening is flashing in the distance, and a few raindrops have fallen. It’s good to be back!
My trip to el norte is drawing to a close and tomorrow morning, before the sun rises, my day-long journey back to Oaxaca begins. After being away for 5-1/2 weeks, I wonder what changes I will see. In the meantime, a couple of cute animal photos from here and there…
Chipmunk that perches on this rock every morning at my son’s house in upstate New York.
Squirrel feeding station set up by neighbors in Barrio de Xochimilco, Oaxaca.
Now that I am fully vaccinated, I’m looking forward to venturing out and about a lot more and hopefully having more fodder for the blog!
In Oaxaca, murals, stencils, and other forms of street art are ubiquitous — and often with cultural and political themes.
The same is true for San Francisco and her neighboring cities of Oakland and San Jose — primarily thanks to significant populations of color and the cultural expressions they bring.
However, in my white-bread hometown of Mill Valley, it’s only in the past several years that murals have begun popping up and they have seldom addressed social and political issues — until now.
In response to the killing of George Floyd and a controversy in the town regarding the tone-deaf attitude toward the Black Lives Matter movement and its own issues of racial discrimination and profiling, artist Wesley Cabral painted these two murals which now adorn a prominent wall in downtown Mill Valley.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers and mother figures out there!
“Mi Segunda Madre” woven by Mario González Pérez using wool dyed with natural dyes.
The above wall hanging (photographed in February 2021) was part of the art exhibition, “Sangre y Herencia” (Blood and Heritage) at Hotel CasAntica. By the way, Día de las Madres is celebrated in Mexico on May 10.
On this second Día del Trabajo during the pandemic, let us recognize and give thanks to the workers of Oaxaca and the world who continue to keep the wheels turning.
Repairing the bell tower of Templo de San José.
Digging out the roots of a fallen Indian Laurel tree on the zócalo.
Preparing to sweep the sidewalk in Barrio de Jalatlaco.
Mexican Peso Converter
View From Casita Colibrí 