One of the much anticipated features of this year’s Fiesta Titlular a la Preciosa Sangre de Nuestro Señor Jesucristo in Teotitlán del Valle was the debut of the new Grupo de Danza de Pluma Promesa.
Danzantes
Danzantes
Unlike in many of the other villages, where the Danza de la Pluma is danced by folkloric dance troupes, in Teotitlán del Valle nineteen young men and two little girls make a promise to their god and, thus, their community to learn and perform the dance at each of the four annual major religious festivals in the village for three years.
Moctezuma with Malinche and Doña Marina
Danzantes woven wool leggings
This is not a commitment to be taken lightly, as there are 40+ dances that comprise this Zapotec retelling of the story of Moctezuma and the Aztecs battle with Cortes and the Conquistadors. The entire telling of the story takes almost eight hours to perform in the church plaza — in conditions that can vary from brilliant sun with sweltering temperatures to gusty winds to drizzling rain.
Subalterno offering water
Subalterno imitating the danzantes
It’s been almost six months since we first saw the new group at one of their early practice sessions. In jeans, t-shirts, and gym shoes, the guys were at the beginning stages of learning the steps.
Moctezuma, a danzante, and Doña Marina
Moctezuma and the danzantes
They have learned well and it’s going to be an outstanding three years!
Late yesterday afternoon, under a dark and threatening sky, we gathered in front of Teotitlán del Valle’s church for the first *convite of the Fiesta Titular a la Preciosa Sangre de Nuestro Señor Jesucristo, the village’s patron saint festival.
Templo de la Preciosa Sangre de Cristo
Peeking out from the canastas
Danzante and daughter
Subalterno entertaining the crowd
Kids in the ‘hood patiently waiting and posing
Leaving the church
Through the streets with one of several marmotas
Hundreds of unmarried girls and women parade through the streets
Balancing canastas with dignity and pride
The debut of the new Grupo de Danza de Pluma Promesa (2016-18)
The rain held off, as the procession returned to the church
And, the banda played on…
Major festivities of the Fiesta Titular a la Preciosa Sangre de Nuestro Señor Jesucristo continue through Sunday. We shall return!
* Convite: According to Harrap’s Spanish and English Pocket Dictionary, convite means reception. However, if I drag my weighty Larousse Standard Diccionario down from the shelf, convite translates to “invitation” or “banquet.” And, if one turns to Google or Bing translation programs, a convite is a “treat.” To me, it is all of the above!
Five or six months ago, I took multiple cuttings from my Stapelia gigantia and planted them in six planter boxes on top of my terrace wall. I used them to fill in around agave that I’d planted in the middle of each box.
Once the rains came, they began spreading their prehistoric-looking tentacles…
And, the flowers have exploded in their carrion-smelling bloom, attracting green bottle flies, as designed.
Oaxaca quote of the day, as posted on Facebook by my friend and neighbor, J: “Antes, no salía sin checar el clima. Ahora no salgo sin checar los bloqueos.” Translation: “Before, I didn’t go out without checking the weather. Now, I don’t leave without checking for blockades.”
Mexico’s Interior Secretary, Miguel Ángel Osorio Chong, is refusing further dialogue with the CNTE (teachers and education workers union) until the blockades are lifted, the CNTE is vowing to intensify its actions around the country, and rumor has it that masses of vacant hotel rooms in Oaxaca (thanks to large-scale cancellations) are being filled by federal police. There’s a dance going on in Oaxaca, I don’t know the steps, but in the meantime, let’s put on our red shoes and dance the blues.
Let’s dance put on your red shoes and dance the blues
Let’s dance to the song they’re playin’ on the radio
Let’s sway while color lights up your face Let’s sway sway through the crowd to an empty space
If you say run, I’ll run with you If you say hide, we’ll hide Because my love for you Would break my heart in two If you should fall Into my arms And tremble like a flower
Let’s dance for fear your grace should fall Let’s dance for fear tonight is all
Let’s sway you could look into my eyes Let’s sway under the moonlight, this serious moonlight
If you say run, I’ll run with you If you say hide, we’ll hide Because my love for you Would break my heart in two If you should fall Into my arms And tremble like a flower
Let’s dance put on your red shoes and dance the blues
Let’s dance to the song they’re playin’ on the radio
Let’s sway you could look into my eyes Let’s sway under the moonlight, this serious moonlight
I usually don’t spend much time walking along Crespo — the bus fumes and traffic noise are enough to have one holding one’s nose, covering one’s ears, and detouring to another street, as soon as possible! However, a (not-so-little) birdie told me to check out the stairs up to the Guelaguetza Auditorium.
Yikes!!! An improvement project has been underway from Crespo all the way up to the Auditorium since the end of April. Runners, walkers, and residents need to use an alternative route. As the sign says, “Sorry for the inconvenience.”
I spoke to one of the workmen and asked, if the project is going to be finished in time for the Guelaguetza. After all, the first performance of Donají la Leyenda is scheduled for the night of July 24 and la Guelaguetza begins the following morning — that’s less than a month away. He assured me the work would be completed.
Speaking of the Guelaguetza… Vive Oaxaca has a notice (in red, no less!) essentially saying, that because of the number of messages they have received regarding information about the current conflictsinOaxaca, they feel compelled to announce that they have no information about the cancellation of Guelaguetza. As far as they know, everything is continuingas planned, but advise visitors to monitorofficial informationfromthe Ministry of Tourism and Economic Development of the State ofOaxaca.
Sunday is market day in Tlacolula de Matamoros and I was so ready to escape the city. No bloqueos blocked our way and Sunday traffic was even lighter than usual, thus the drive was uneventful. In addition, though rumors of gasoline shortages have been rampant, we had no trouble filling up at one of the numerous Pemex stations along our eastbound route. Once we arrived, we found the market was a beehive of activity, aisles had us crowded shoulder to shoulder with shoppers from Tlacolula and the surrounding villages.
The color… the energy… the bounty… the people… the smells… the street food…the life. It was all just what the doctor ordered! And, when I got home and turned on my computer, a documentary on market day in Tlacolula popped up on my Facebook news feed. (h/t Zeferino Mendoza)
It may be from 2012, but not much has changed. This Sunday open air market (tianguis) is one of the oldest continuously operating in Mesoamerica.
Local vendors are selling food, drink and paraphernalia. Though El Financiero is reporting that grocery chain Soriana is temporarily closing some of their stores in Oaxaca and Chiapas, blaming blockades and security concerns.
The teams have retired to their respective locker rooms to tend to the wounded and bury the dead (literally).
Mascots continue to fire up their supporters in a war of Tweets, Facebook posts, and media talking heads…
As fans (fanáticos en español) await the resumption of play.
But, all most Oaxaqueños want is a peaceful and fair end to this infernal battle. Let’s hope something can be worked out when negotiations resume on Monday.
During this lull, English speaking readers might want to check out Dave Miller’s blog and/or listen to an interview with Laura Carlsen (Center for International Policy) for background on the issues involved between the education workers and the government.
Three marches are happening in the city today supporting Sección 22 of the CNTE (teachers union). Beginning at 9:00 this morning there was one by students and another by the health sector — I saw the latter pass as I took my laundry to the lavandería around the corner. Then, this afternoon there is a “Marcha Pacifica Punk-Libertaria” — whoever they are. And, there are supposed to be “negotiations” in Mexico City late this afternoon between the Interior Minister, Miguel Ángel Osorio Chong, and the CNTE negotiating committee. Hoping for progress, but not holding my breath.
That’s it for today’s on-the-ground reporting. I will leave you with a music video. The song is by Los Angeles based La Santa Cecilia and the video was posted by the Oaxaca based, Oaxacking.
Nos fuimos siguiendo un sueño con el corazón en mano por que ya no es justo nada en la tierra que habitamos en medio de la comparsa nos arrastra un viento humano pa’ ver si se nos quitaban las ganas de andar soñando unos de tanta culpa se quedan mudos otros tienen memoria para olvidar
si la violencia es un espejo que se rompe y nuestras lagrimas caidas gritaran solo recuerda que mi cara tiene un nombre
y nunca mas se callara y nunca mas se callara
te pido me des la mano y en el camino me sigas vamos traer a los de arriba la ira de los de abajo del miedo sepultado es hora de ser valiente en honor a los ausentes ya no me cruzo de brazos unos de tanta culpa se quedan mudos otros tienen memoria para olvidar si la violencia es un espejo que se rompe y nuestras lagrimas caidas gritaran solo recuerda que mi cara tiene un nombre
y nunca mas se callara y nunca mas se callara
cúantas veces velamos la misma historia cúantas mentiras nuevas se contara si la violencia es un espejo que se rompe y nuestras lagrimas caidas gritaran solo recuerda que mi cara tiene un nombre
y nunca mas se callara y nunca mas se callara nunca jamas me olvidara
And, while you’re at it, I highly recommend watching a couple of La Santa Cecilia’s other music videos. Ice El Hielo will probably bring tears. And, I guarantee you will never again hear Strawberry Fields Forever the same, after seeing their version.
At loose ends, can’t seem to focus on anything else, and since people have asked, here are photos from this morning’s walk through, what may be, an emerging war zone…
The blockades have resumed throughout the state and a mega march of teachers, parents, and supporters entered the zócalo a couple of hours ago. I fear, as the handwriting on the wall says, this is just the beginning.
To all who have expressed concern for my safety, many thanks. No worries, bottom line, I’m a chicken and have no plans to go out again today OR anytime there is even a hint of feeling unsafe.
And, if you want to follow the events on Twitter, the hashtag #OaxacaGrita is being used.
It’s the morning after the day and night before — and I don’t even know where to begin.
The very short and immediate version is: Yesterday afternoon about 50 miles north of the city in Nochixtlán, six demonstrators were killed when federal police moved in to breakup a 5-day long blockade by Sección 22 of the teachers union on the main highway between here and Puebla. As the police moved toward the city, there was another battle about 8 miles north near San Pablo Etla, and then last night about 7:30 a helicopter began flying over the city, smoke rose from near the teachers’ encampment in the zócalo (about 4 blocks away), and shouting and explosions were heard. It was still going on when I fell asleep around midnight.
It’s Monday morning, but all was eerily quiet when I awoke. Very little traffic on my usually busy street and almost no buses to be seen or heard. Television news and local papers are hopeless, so I began monitoring five Facebook groups dedicated to blockades, demonstrations, traffic, etc. and Twitter for news.
Needing a few groceries (I know that seems to be a constant theme, but I don’t have a car here, so can only buy what I can carry) and wanting to see what went on last night, my neighbor and I ventured out onto the streets. The acrid smell of smoke was still evident and, at almost every intersection, beginning with the one half a block down our street, tires were still smoldering. The closer we got to the zócalo, the more graffiti and damage we saw.
Oxxo on Morelos at Garcia Vigil had been vandalized and was closed, the windows of Catedral had been broken but the restaurant was open, and all the ATMs in BanNorte had been damaged, but the tellers were in place and banking was being done. However, it’s like a Sunday morning, with few people on the streets.
The teachers’ plantón (encampment) on and surrounding the zócalo remains, but it was dirty and depressing and there were a couple of drunk guys, so we opted not to venture further. Instead, we continued east on Independencia, passing more broken windows, scrawled messages on walls denouncing the federal and state governments and warning all that it has only just begun.
If you want background and more detailed reports, you can check out posts from Oaxaca at http://elenemigocomun.net/. Yes, I know, it’s from the perspective of the teachers and protestors — I figure the “mainstream” media has got the government’s point of view covered.
Stencil photos were taken a few days ago on Garcia Vigil, between Independencia and Morelos. Yes, I did take photos this morning of the remnants of last night’s events, but I just can’t bring myself to post them. The mood is sad and wary — no one knows how and when this will end — and the ghosts of 2006 hang over the city.
Happy Father’s Day (Día del Padre) to the loving fathers (biological, adoptive, and step), grandfathers, and father figures everywhere.
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Color Him Father (click on link for Keb Mo performing The Winstons old song)
There’s a man at my house he’s so big and strong He goes to work each day, stays all day long He comes home each night looking tired and beat He sits down at the dinner table and has a bite to eat Never a frown always a smile When he says to me how’s my child I’ve been studying hard all day in school Tryin’ to understand the golden rule
Think I’ll color this man father I think I’ll color him love Said I’m gonna color him father I think I’ll color the man love, yes I will
He says education is the thing if you wanna compete Because without it son, life ain’t very sweet I love this man I don’t know why Except I’ll need his strength till the day that I die My mother loves him and I can tell By the way she looks at him when he holds my little sister Nell I heard her say just the other day That if it hadn’t been for him she wouldn’t have found her way My real old man he got killed in the war And she knows she and seven kids couldn’t of got very far She said she thought that she could never love again And then there he stood with that big wide grin He married my mother and he took us in And now we belong to the man with that big wide grin
Think I’ll color this man father I think I’ll color him love Said I’m gonna color him father
The rainy season has come and with it, the emergence of chicatanas (also known as, tzicatanas) — a pre hispanic insect delicacy in this corner of the world. My first experience with these giant “flying ants” was at the Oaxaca airport five or six years ago, where I was greeted with, what can only be characterized as, an infestation. They were flying through the terminal, crawling on the floor, and being chased by toddlers to teens, as adults watched in amusement. Since then, I’ve come to know and even love these little critters — especially in salsas and mole.
Two years ago, I awoke to my own infestation on the terrace. However, yesterday morning only a lone female chicatana put in an appearance. Darn, just when I’d actually considered gathering them up like these children and attempting to make chicatana salsa!
Mexican Peso Converter
View From Casita Colibrí 