Yesterday, a new visitor arrived on the rooftop garden. Naturally, I wanted to know the name of this tiny guest who seemed to love my sedum. After searching page by page through my Smithsonian Handbooks: Butterflies and Moths unsuccessfully, I spent hours this morning combing the web. I think my new friend is from the family Lycaenidae (Gossamer-winged); subfamily Theclinae (Hairstreaks); tribe Eumaeini; and genus Electrostrymon. However, for the life of me, I can’t figure out which species — while the markings match, the colors don’t. Any lepidopterists out there who can help?
As for what he (I’m pretty certain it is male) was doing on the sedum — he was rubbing his wings together. For this, I did find an answer. According to the Learn About Butterflies website:
Hairstreaks usually have a pattern of lines or stripes on the underside wings. These, in combination with ocelli ( false eye markings ) and short tails ( false antennae ) act to divert attention away from the head, and towards the outer edge of the hindwings. By oscillating the wings, the tails are made to wiggle like antennae, further increasing the illusion that the butterfly is ‘back to front’. Attacking birds will always aim at the head of a butterfly, but are tricked into aiming at the tail. The butterfly is thus able to escape in the opposite direction unharmed. Another reason for wing-rubbing is that male Hairstreaks have patches of specialised wing scales – ‘androconia’, located on their upperside forewings. Sacs at the base of these scales contain pheromones. Rubbing the wings together helps to disseminate the pheromones, which attract females and induce them to mate.
Maybe there will be some springtime courting on the terrace….
Yesterday, we returned to Teotitlán del Valle to join in their annual Día de la Santa Cruz hike up El Picacho, the sacred mountain that watches over this incredibly special pueblo. This year, instead taking the route up the mountain directly from downtown like we did last year (and it kicked our a$$), we drove to the presa (dam) and headed up a surprisingly well-marked trail from there. A symphony of cicadas (cigarras or chicharras, en español), serenaded us as we climbed, young people passed us, and Templo de la Preciosa Sangre de Cristo, off in the distance, got smaller. However, after more than an hour, we sighted our first pack burro (they bring up the food and drink) and knew we had almost reached our destination.
We were welcomed at the top by the family hosting the gathering and given cups of agua de jamaica — just what the doctor ordered! There were even more people than last year, music blared from large speakers the aforementioned burros must have carried up the mountain, a new cross had replaced the one that had been hit by lightning last year, and, of course, the views were breathtaking.
But, with spectacular views in all directions, why was most everyone looking down toward the road from the village to the presa?
A foot race! From what we could understand, there were 3 classes of runners; one that ran all the way from mercado in the center of Teotitlán and other two “only” ran up from the presa. Whichever route they took, as one of the runner’s t-shirt says, they were all “chingon!”
The winner!
Young, lean, and tall.
The first place girl!
Wow, runner and SF 49er fan!
Not all runners are tall and lean.
His parents raised him well.
And so was this gal, who was on her way up as we were coming down.
Muchisimas gracias, yet again, to the people of Teotitlán del Valle for another unforgettable experience.
Many of you may not know that Oaxaca has a Minor League baseball team, the Guerreros de Oaxaca, a Triple-A team in the Mexican League. They play at Estadio de Béisbol Lic. Eduardo Vasconcelos, right off the Pan American Highway, and most seats look out onto the sierras to the east. Tickets are inexpensive (women, seniors, and children usually pay even less), a friend insists it’s a great place to learn local Spanish swear words, and it’s a mere 25 blocks from Casita Colibrí (definitely within walking distance).
However, until Tuesday night, I hadn’t been to a game in almost three years.
The Guerreros were playing the Vaqueros Laguna from Torreón, Coahuila AND women got in free! Besides the action by the players on the field, there were cheerleaders. What can I say??? They certainly know how to toss their hair!
Despite the free ticket promotion for women (and men only paid 25 pesos), the stands were about an eighth full. However, this guy and his drum walked up and down the main aisle, drumming up fan support.
Unfortunately, in the bottom on the second inning, the rain that had been threatening, finally came. The game was halted, the players headed into their respective dugouts, and the ground crew pulled out the tarp.
It was already 8:15 PM, and we succumbed to being “fair weather fans” and left. The game eventually resumed and the Guerreros lost, 2-5, BUT they won the next night, 12-5, and are currently in third place in the Mexican League Sur.
Even though the significance of May 1, as International Workers’ Day, had its origin in the USA, it is not celebrated there (for a variety of reasons I won’t go into here). However, like most countries in the world, Día del Trabajo is a national holiday in Mexico. To honor labor everywhere, here is Oaxaca’s favorite daughter singing her song, “Mother Jones.”
“Pray for the dead, but fight like Hell for the living.” — Mary Harris Jones (aka, Mother Jones, the miners’ angel)
On Saturday, we drove to San Bartolo Coyotepec for the opening of the exhibition, Colorum, an exhibit of art by the children of Oaxaca, mounted as part of tomorrow’s el Día del Niño (Children’s Day) celebrations. We went primarily to support my friend Juan, as his son Allan was one of the young artists participating in the show. However, we stayed because it was a wonderfully inspiring and uplifting experience and I applaud the Museo Estatal de Arte Popular Oaxaca (MEAPO) for encouraging and showcasing the imagination and creativity of the children of Oaxaca.
What is given to children, the children will give to society.
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Children are the most important resource in the world and the best hope for the future.
The free imagination transforms the world and makes things fly.
The Colorum exhibition lasts until May 20, 2014. It is open from 10:00 AM to 6:00 PM, Tuesday through Sunday.
No, not a newly discovered mutant killer variety — only one of the sculptures currently hanging out along the Alcalá. It is part of a public art exhibit, “El migrante,” by Oaxaqueño artisit, Fernando Andriacci.
Today the City of Oaxaca celebrates 482 years as a colonial city. (*** See below for a little history.) The day began at 6 AM with the ringing of the Cathedral’s bells, the singing of Mañanitas Oaxaqueñas, and marimbas and tamales on the Alameda de León. Alas, that was a little early for me to be up, dressed, and downtown. However, all I had to do was step out on my terrace to watch the next event of the day.
Five Pilatus PC7 Mexican Air Force planes put on a show over the city.
They made several passes over the city.
For their finale, contrails displayed the green, white, and red of the Mexican flag.
And then they were gone. I love how Noticias concludes their report, “After 45 minutes, the ‘steel birds’ returned to their base, pending a new appeal to challenge gravity.”
Celebrations continue through May 8 and a schedule of events can be found HERE.
*** In 1532 Spanish settlers (their bloody way paved by Hernán Cortés and his conquistadores) successfully petitioned the Queen of Spain for a land grant of 1 square league. The colonists had already established their own town on the site of Huaxyacac, renamed it Antequera (after an old Roman city in Spain) and received a Royal Charter from King Charles I of Spain. However, Cortés had successfully gotten the entire Valley of Oaxaca (hundreds of thousands of acres) declared as his own private marquisate and, his greed knowing no bounds, kept trying to evict the colonial townspeople. By obtaining the queen’s charter, this end-run around Cortés insured the rights of the townspeople to the land.
This librarian couldn’t let this go by without a mention… Today is World Book Day and, naturally, Oaxaca celebrates with music! Under the shade of 130+ year old Indian laurel trees on the zócalo, the State Marimba Band opened the festivities.
According to the SECULTA website, the celebrations also include storytelling and a marathon of reading aloud from works by Octavio Paz, José Emilio Pacheco, José Revueltas, Julio Cortázar, Efraín Huerta, Juan Gelman, Juan Ramón Jiménez, and by the recently deceased and much revered, Gabriel García Márquez.
While the zócalo and Alcalá are the settings for book fairs several times a year, most of the public libraries are inadequate to fulfill their designated tasks and the price of books (200 to 300 pesos) is way beyond the reach of most of the state’s residents. Thus, it should surprise no one that reports show Oaxaqueños read an average of only one book per year. The secretary of Cultures and Arts of Oaxaca ( SECULTA ), Francisco Martínez Neri, acknowledged, “A people with few economic opportunities read little, so it requires the creation of public policies to have books at affordable prices.” Programs like Libros Para Pueblos, try to fill the gap, but it’s only the proverbial drop in the bucket.
One can travel all over Spain and its former viceroyalties and never see as many elaborately bedecked and bejeweled Virgins as one will see here in Mexico — neither in number, nor in glory. Yes, in Peru there are many famously ornate ones. In Colombia, too. Argentina, Chile, Bolivia, Ecuador have their share. The Philippines is a runner-up. But Mexico has all of them beat. Marian devotion, the worship of the Virgin Mary in all her forms through song, prayer, writing painting, sculpture, and shrines, went wild in Mexico. (p. 169)
Last night, fortified by tostadas, guacamole, and a little vino, a gal pal and I set out for the Jueves Santo (aka: Holy Thursday and Maundy Thursday) tradition of visiting seven churches. According to that fount of knowledge, Wikipedia, “The tradition of visiting seven churches on Holy Thursday is an ancient practice, probably originating in Rome.”
We purchased our bag of Pan Bendito (bread that had been blessed) and set off. As always, the sidewalks were teeming with people in a combination of a semi-solemn pilgrimage, street festival, family night at the fair, and date night. (Of course, there was canoodling.) And, despite the “Entrada” and “Salida” signs on the doors of many of the churches, foot traffic was often gridlocked. I didn’t help matters when I stopped short. Jesus wearing a blindfold?
At another church, another blindfolded Jesus…
And, another…
Holy Thursday, Batman, how could I have missed these blindfolded Jesus figures in 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2013???
(For those, like me, who are clueless where this blindfold business comes from: According to the Gospels of Luke (22:64) and Mark (14:65), Jesus was blindfolded, mocked, and beaten following his trial and before his crucifixion.)
Processions from churches in the Historic District began at 7:00 AM.
They converged at the Alameda, on the south side of the Cathedral,
where “our Lord meets his most Holy Mother going towards Calvary.”
The faithful, now as one, then proceeded east on Independencia…
along with the images of Mary and Jesus…
stopping along the way at Stations of the Cross.
I left at 9:30 AM — they were still going. Early this evening, all will again gather for the Procession of Silence. No rest for the faithful or weary bloggers!
Early last night, needing a break from working on the Lord of the Little Burro blog post, I wandered out onto the terrace to check out the full moon rising over the city. The night was clear, La Luna was brilliant, and she was going to be putting on quite a show in 6+ hours — a lunar eclipse.
April 14, 2014 – 7:21 PM (CDT)
There was no way I could stay up until then, though I did have fleeting thoughts of setting my alarm. When bedtime came, I decided to leave it up to the fates or Semana Santa cohetes and church bells, though I did leave the Canon on her tripod, just in case. The fates had it (probably because I didn’t eat dinner until 9:00 PM); I awoke around 2:00 AM, got up, took the camera out on the terrace, and looked up. There was La Luna dressed as the Blood Red Queen.
April 15, 2014 – 2:20 AM (CDT)
That little spec below and to the right of the moon is Spica, the brightest star in the Virgo constellation. It’s extra visible because of the eclipse. In addition, about 10 degrees west of the moon, an even tinier reddish spec could also be seen (though not in this photo) — Mars came to the party, too! And, if this weren’t enough lunacy for one night, I happened to remember, earlier in the day it looked like one of the blossoms on my Night Blooming Cereus might be ready to bloom. Sure enough…
April 15, 2014 – 3:05 AM (CDT)
What a spectacular night! Though, how I made it to my 9:00 AM breakfast appointment, I’ll never know. Definitely, early to bed tonight.
San Antonino Castillo Velasco continues to enchant. What’s not to like about a village known for growing flowers, decorating graves with designs created with flor inmortal (immortal flowers) during Día de los Muertos, and floral designs executed in exquisite embroidery?!!
Then there is Palm Sunday and the tradition of gathering at the panteón, loading El Señor del Burrito with locally grown bounty, blessing by the priest, an incense led procession carrying it to the church, and then selling it to raise money for a local orphanage.
It never ceases to amaze! The produce loaded onto the Little Burro, along with the overflow, was fantastic — enormous cabbages, the whitest of white cauliflower, perfect roses, cacao beans, squash, fruits, and on and on…
Then there are the people… young and old, they are always gracious and welcoming. And this year, under temperatures threatening 90ºF, women were circulating throughout the gathering crowd, offering thirst quenching aguas to stave off dehydration.
Oh yes, there were also kids and animals — and sometimes together! As I think I’ve mentioned before, children in these indigenous communities seem to always be included and when old enough (5 and up, I’m guessing), given responsibilities — joy and exuberance, along with patience and commitment, abound.
I loved watching the little boys wrangling the goats as the procession proceeded from the panteón to the church.