Yesterday, I did it again! After a year’s hiatus, on Día de la Santa Cruz I returned for the ritual pilgrimage to the top of El Picacho, the sacred mountain that watches over Teotitlán del Valle. To avoid hiking in the worst of May’s high temperatures, our ascent began at 5:30 in the morning. Yes, it was dark, with not even moonlight to guide our way. Thank goodness for the flashlight app on my smart phone. However, by 6:30 AM dawn was breaking and our artificial lights were extinguished. Our hardy band arrived at the summit about 7:30 AM to the ritual round of handshaking that accompanies greetings and farewells in the village.

As the mass began, the cicadas (cigarras or chicharras, en español) began their song — one even perched on the fabric swag festooning the crosses.

Mass over, Procopio Contreras, the young priest (first from Teotitlán) took off his vestments and posed for photos.

Along with a cup of agua de jamaica, we took our tamales into the shade, where bromeliads clung to tree branches.
After a lazy comida filled with conversation between new friends and with our strength renewed, we (3 Teotitecos, 1 Belgian, and me) descended the mountain.
While the day may be designated Día de la Santa Cruz and a mass said on top of Picacho, this day has pre-Hispanic roots in ceremonies related to the sowing season. In the early days of May (by our calendar), prayers and rituals were dedicated to Cosijo, the Zapotec god of lightening, thunder, and rain — later to Tláloc, the Aztec god of rain — thus fertility and water for the growing of crops. Hmmm… On May 2, lightening flashed and thunder roared, but Mother Nature only delivered a few drops in the village. However, on May 3, once the daylong festivities atop the mountain concluded, three hours of a good hard rain fell in Teotitlán del Valle. The gods must have heard the prayers.
h/t Zeferino Mendoza