Fiesta in Santa Maria Tlahuitoltepec

Yesterday we trekked into the mountains to the east, to the village of Santa Maria Tlahuitoltepec, some three hours of driving.  It is sometimes hard to believe how diverse this area is.  You go over a mountain and everything changes, from the flora and fauna to the people and their cultures.  It can be desolate and dry on one side of the hill and green and vibrant on the other.  This is the mixe region and the faces and language are much different.  The villages often sit on the sides of the mountains and have incredible vistas.  The roads were not bad at all, but I am not sure how they will be once the rains arrive.

For me, hands down, the clothing the women wore was the highlight of the trip.  Several months ago I had seen a traje, an outfit, from Santa Maria Tlahuitoltepec in an artesano feria in the city and almost bought it simply because it was so beautiful.  I planned to hang it on the wall as a piece of art along with the other huipiles that grace mi casa.  But.... I didn't buy it.  However, I copied down the name of the village and made note of the fact that they were having a fiesta this weekend.  Our plan was hatched and we executed it flawlessly.  All we had to do was show up.  The rest was easy and most magical.

The village was packed and happening.  People were very friendly and open.  The food was good.  We sampled tamales, coloradito, amarillo and rajas.  All very tasty, but different in the consistency of the masa.  There were bands playing on balconies, a large market, basketball games, then dancing.  We left before the rodeo began.  The fiesta is a three day affair and we only caught a few hours of it, but it was so worth it.  What a treat.  You can see what I mean about the women's clothing.

 We all scream for ice scream in any language

A woman from the village to the west, Tamazulapam del Espiritu Santo.  You can tell by her outfit.  Even though her village is only fifteen kilometer away, they have a whole different look.

 Family portrait

 What a look.

 I think the women wear these beautiful embroidered pieces everyday.  I love how they wear the rebozo, kind of folded.  I am sure there is an art to it.

And as always, it is the abuelitas that steal the show.

I did end up buying a full traje, complete with skirt, blouse, belt and rebozo.  I will get a shot of it later.  So hold on..... more to come.

The Incredible Power Of Concentration - Miyoko Shida

Some things deserve to go viral.  This is one.  Watch until the end.

Who's your daddy?

Papa Papas, who else?  And in Papaland, where else?

French fries land?  

"Hmmmm..... OK, but I'm not gonna try it. Get Mikey, I mean Miguel. He'll try anything, but they gotta move that trash can."

I will confess that I always grab some, uh, Freedom Fries, in Houston on my way back to the States.  Here, I hardly ever even see them until now.... Papaland!

It's a universal

The graduation leap of joy!

I saw this thousands of times, the cap and gown shot. "Thanks, now let me put these heels back on."

Sharing the moment with classmates.  No doubt these shots went on Facebook within minutes.

 

This could be anywhere.

However, it was here in Yanhuitlan and not many people can say that.  ¡Felicidades!

Opposites - Ambulante

It was a day of opposites and ironies.  Like the guy I saw on a big motorcycle, no helmet, gym shorts, flip flops and a T shirt that read "Total Protection." Or the bumper sticker of the Christian fish, you know the one, eating a smaller fish with Darwin spelled inside it and a caption of "Survival of the Fittest."  Go figure.

Or this shot of a guy taking a siesta, lying down in front of a poster "Ambulante," which means walking or traveling. 

Actually, "Ambulante" is a festival of documentaries taking place now in many different venues.

El Picacho - Dí­a de la Santa Cruz

Warning: objects may appear closer than they really are....

And so it was with climbing El Picacho in Teotitland del Valle on May 3, el Dí­a de la Santa Cruz, the Day of the Holy Cross.  El Picacho is both iconic and sacred, so it was an honor to follow in the footsteps of so many before us as we did our best to celebrate this tradition. 

No matter what anyone says, it is a pretty good trek up to the top.  It is steep in spots, depending on which path you follow, and the altitude makes it tougher... or maybe that is just me.  There is also a race up the mountain and I think we saw the winner as he blazed past us near the top.  He was flying.

It was hot and we were all sweating, but then, as we got higher, the cool winds engulfed us.  It took about an hour and a half to reach the top. 

Upon making it all the way up, we were greeted by people from the village who offered us horchata, agua de jamaica and tamales. 

The mood was friendly and celebratory.  A few cohetes, rockets with a loud boom.

 

The food and drink are a part of these folk's cargo, or community work and was carried up on burros.

There was a simple altar at the very top. 

As we ate and drank, basked in the bright sun, we were surrounded by happy people. 

There was much laughter in the air as the winds whipped across expansive vistas. 

 

We recovered from the trek up and headed down, but not before drinking an incredibly cold beer that some young guys had carried up as a part of a little feast.  They are living in the US now, but had returned to their village and this was just a part of doing it right.  Tradition!

We heard that two of the crosses had been hit by lightning very recently.  According to legend, the three crosses represent the ones found in Jerusalem.  El Dí­a de la Santa Cruz is also the day of the Albañiles (masons, construction workers) and little crosses appear on the roofs of all the new projects before the workers all go off and party.  They know how to do it right, as well.  Tradition!

Amen to that shirt!

In my never ending series of t-shirt shots, I saw this young many today and asked him if I could take a quick pic.  He obliged and then insisted that his friends get in the action.  I like the anarchy medallion along with the anti-torture message.

Los Tres Amigos

Poetry of the Streets

"They say that to love is to exist.  Tell me why I love you and feel like I don't exist."

Return to Yanhuitlan

Yanhuitlan remains one of my favorite places to visit because, not only is it such a stunning setting, the church and monastery so massive, but the site is an encapsulation of so many aspects of Mexican history.  It is in the Mixteca region, about an hour's drive north of Oaxaca.

Long story short:  100,000 Mixtecs lived there when the Spanish showed up in in the early 1500's.  The Dominicans decided to build a church and to convert everyone to Catholicism.  They designed the village surrounding the church and built an aqueduct.  A good plan.  Unfortunately, they also brought diseases that effectively wiped out the population with fifty years with a 95 percent kill rate.  No need for a large church after that, but construction continued through the centuries and it survived various battles during the revolutions. The restoration has been ongoing for several years now as the government pushes the Ruta Domincana.

I remember the first time we went there when work on the interior of the church had barely begun.  There were birds living in the huge dust filled space.  It was dark and dirty and magical.  Now, it is bright and white and I think it has lost a little of its magic, because so much of the patina is gone and the floors and walls are too perfect.  However, the before, during and after shots are pretty dramatic.

 That little white rectangle is spixl, just to give you an idea of how big the place is.

 That's me in the flying buttress.

 The finished front facade.

 What a ceiling!  At least twenty five meters up there.

 Some of the lost patina.  One of the original doors.

First they cut the stone, in this case a channel for rain,  and then, somehow, got it all the way up to the roof..... without any machines.

 Beautiful moorish ceiling at the entrance.

 With scaffolding

 And without

I need to go back to get some shots I missed.... like I need a excuse to return to one of my favorite places.

Flor de Mayo - Plumeria - Frangiapani

With the rains, the work picks up outside.  As I work, I catch wisps of fragrance from the plumeria that I have going in several parts of the property.  It is especially sweet because all were started from cuttings and then pruned to begin to shape them.  I remember buying a handful of cuttings from some young women at the market in Tlacolula.  It was obvious they had just hacked them off some plant that morning. They were very fresh... the cuttings, not the girls, silly.

That was a year or so ago and maybe two thirds of them made it through the rooting process and then the long dry season.  Now.... I had no idea they smelled so good. Their fragrance fills the garden and wafts into the house through open windows.  In another five years, they will be very impressive.

Incidentally, I just picked and ate my first papaya, which I grew from seed.  They are tough to transplant and I don't think this is the right climate for them, but the two year wait was worth it.

Heavy weather

Is the dry season over?  Three days in a row, but neither the people nor the countryside are anywhere close to being convinced.