Méxica (Aztec) Dancers at the Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe

Sometimes we foolishly think, "After three years, we're reasonably comfortable with Mexican culture." But then something happens that sets us back on our cultural heels. Which brings me to our visit last Sunday to the Basílica de la Virgen de Guadalupe.

We rode three Metros to get there, then walked several blocks to the Basílica's grounds. The closer we got, the more congested the foot-traffic became. Echoing my unspoken thought, Reed was heard to mutter, "Next time let's visit on a weekday."

Turning into the entrance, we were squeezed with way-too-many other people into a walkway lined with puestos selling absolutely everything from religious objects to shoes.

Then still crowded together, we climbed what felt like interminable stairs, but the path eventually opened out onto a gigantic plaza in front of the Basilica.  As we made our way toward more open space, we became aware of a relentless drumbeat | What on earth...?

Basílica de la Virgin de Guadalupe,
Sunday, November 13, 2011

The gold dome of the original Basilica can be seen in the background (left).  The towers to the right are castillos (fireworks towers) under construction for celebration of the Pirotécnica de la República Mexicana (Fireworks of the Mexican Republic) in honor of the Virgin of Guadalupe, whose Feast Day is observed on December 12.

To sample the sights and sounds that swept over us as we made our way across the Plaza, click here for Jenny's first-ever YouTube (18 sec.). 

What's missing from both photo and video is the unforgettable fragrance of burning copal—the traditional incense throughout Mexico. But don't let me get ahead of myself.

Appearance of the Lady to Juan Diego

In an earlier post, I wrote at length about the appearance on the Hill of Tepeyac of the Brown-skinned Lady who spoke in Nahuatl to the baptized indigenous peasant Juan Diego. In that post, I also introduced Tonantzin, believed to be a manifestation of the Earth Goddess Coatlicue, who both gave life and decided its length.

Tonantzin is important because the Spanish destroyed her temple on Tepeyac Hill—at precisely the same place where the Virgen Morena (brown-skinned Virgin) first appeared to Juan Diego.

According to Friar Bernardino de Sahagún, 16th century Catholic missionary and anthropologist, the indigenous peoples continued to call the Lady Tonantzín until around 1560, when the Spaniards baptized her with the sole Spanish name of Guadalupe. 

The appearance of the Virgen Morena, who spoke Náhuatl and vowed to protect the Mexican people, persuaded many reluctant indigenous to convert to Catholicism. Embraced over time by Mestizos (Spanish-Indigenous) and by criollos (Spanish born in Mexico), the Virgin of Guadalupe has become 'the' quintessential  symbol of an ever-evolving Mexican identity (mexicanidad, or Mexican-ness) that includes all the peoples who belong to this land.

The power of her symbol is such that social and political change has been initiated in her name. In 1810 Father Miguel Hidalgo led a group of peasants in a revolt against the dominant criollos under the banner of the Virgin of Guadalupe. Although unsuccessful, this revolt is recognized as the beginning of the War of Independence from Spain.

The Basílica's official web site posts the following, remarkable statement (my translation):

"The people presented the Virgin to their children as the mother of the creator and protector of the entire universe, who comes to the people because she wants to embrace them all—Indian and Spanish—with the same mother's love. The miraculous image imprinted on the sisal—a plant whose strong fibers were used by indigenous weavers to make tilmas (cloaks)—signaled the dawn of a new world, which was the Sixth Sun awaited by the Mexicas (Aztecs)." (See Jenny's post, Aztec Stone of the Five Suns)

Over time, the Virgin of Guadalupe has come to be recognized as protector of all the Americas. The square in front of the Basílica Antigua is appropriately named Atrio de las Americas.

A year ago in Chicago, I met a young woman from Guatemala. When I mentioned that I live in Mexico, her eyes widened and she exclaimed with awe in her voice, "Oh, México—México is very special." At the time, I didn't understand her response—only now am I beginning to understand.

Virgin of Guadalupe
The Virgin of Guadalupe, surrounded by the Sun's Rays, symbols of the
Holy Spirit, stands on Half-Moon, which represents the female principle
not only in Mesoamerican cosmology, but in many world cosmologies; the
Cherub below the moon is widely believed to be Saint Michael,
patron saint of Mexico.

Mexico's Historical Layers Replayed at the Basilica

Our visit to the Basilica was almost overwhelming. Evident in ways we have never before experienced simultaneously in one place were the many and diverse layers of Mexico's cultural heritage: 

• Contemporary Global Mexico that began in the 1980's with the economic opening forced by the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and solidified with NAFTA (1994);

• National Mexico that came into being following Mexico's Independence from Spain (1817);

• Colonial Mexico that encompassed the three hundred years (1521-1817) of Spanish rule; and the

• Indigenous (Mesoamerican) history and culture that began a full 3,000 years ago.   

The satellite photo below shows the major buildings on the Basilica's grounds. To enlarge the photo, left click.  

Satellite Photo: Entering the grounds through a gate at the bottom
of the photo, we threaded a path between dancers and spectators
across the Plaza in front of the New Basilica to the Antigua Basílica.
Later, Reed walked in the direction of the Capilla del Cerrito (upper right). 

The following descriptions are excerpted from a Wikipedia article on the Basilica.

Capilla del Cerrito (Chapel of the Little Hill, photo top) marks the place where Juan Diego encountered the brown-skinned Lady for the second time and, at her command, gathered up roses blooming in the middle of winter. The chapel is the first constructed at Tepeyac (1526). 

Antigua Basilica (photo middle) is the site's first church and dates from 1536. Its construction was ordered by the  Archbishop to comply with the Virgin's command to build a church on that site and was enlarged over time into the 18th c.

The following buildings are located more or less next to each other,
starting at the Antigua Basilica and moving left to right: 

Parroquia Capuchinas (Franciscan Parish Church), whose formal name is Templo y exconvento de las Capuchinas (Capuchinas refers to the Franciscan Order, whose vows include wearing only sandals, or going barefoot; Franciscans were missionaries to the Indigenous in New Spain). Built in 1797, the convent housed Franciscan nuns. 

Parroquia de Indios (Temple of the Indians): According to tradition, this temple housed the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe for many years until it was relocated to the Templo Artesonado in the 16th century. In keeping with Spanish construction practice, the current temple is built atop the foundation for the ancient Méxicas (Aztec) Temple of Tonantzin.   

Capilla del Pocito. The people considered this to be the exact place where the Virgin of Guadalupe appeared for the first time and spoke with Juan Diego.

New Básilica: Circular structure with its irregularly-shaped, greenish dome (left). Completed in 1976, Juan Diego's tilma with its  image of the Virgin of Guadalupe is visible above and behind the altar.

Atrio de las Américas: When we entered the Basílica grounds, we entered here where we encountered the Mixteca dancers and young men busy constructing castillos.

Atrio de las Américas on a quiet day.
The New Basílica is to the left; the gold dome of the
Basílica Antigua is center right; red dome of the
Parroquia Capuchinas is at the right. 

Continuing our Tour

We would have liked to visit the Capilla del Cerrito, but it is a long stair climb so I took a break while Reed explored and captured these images.

The Capilla del Cerrito marks the spot where the Virgin
commanded Juan Diego to gather roses in the middle of winter. 

Water from a spring flows over a rock at the lower third of the photo. 
Mesoamerican peoples associated water—springs and wells—with the
dark, moist energy of the Earth Goddess, so it stands to reason that the
people came to believe that the springs on Tepeyac Hill had healing powers. 

Next we visited the 16th century Basílica Antigua. Across the intervening centuries, the floors have settled such that we walked entirely uphill as we made our way slowly toward the front of the church—a disconcerting, disorienting experience.

Entrance to the Basílica Antigua

 Basílica Antigua
Detail above the entrance

Basílica Antigua
The Virgin appears in one panel of paintings with
gold backgrounds on dome interior

Meanwhile the incessant, insistent drumbeat demanded our attention. So we returned to the Atrio to try to make sense of this sensual assault:

sights, sounds, smells and even touch as we jostle and are jostled in turn by the crowds.

A video cameraman kind enough to respond to Reed's question, replied, "This celebration is to give thanks to the Virgin for a good year"—an explanation corroborated by this banner:

The text reads: "Thank you, Little Virgin, for one more year."
Mexicans are famous for using the diminutive form [-ito, -ita]
of nouns and names—here, the linguistic tradition extends
even to the Mother of Mexico. 

But we've learned in Mexico never to accept a single explanation as complete, so while Reed was off exploring, I asked a group of young (late teen) Mexica dancers to explain what was going on. I didn't think to ask if I could take their picture, but if I had, you would have seen traditional dress on young people whose body language, facial expressions, and interpersonal style convey Global Mexico—connected via cellphone and social media.

Members of the Society of Mexicas and descendants of the original Mexicas (Aztecs) from Tlatelolco, they make an annual pilgrimage to the Basilica on the second Sunday in November to honor the day the Virgin appeared to Juan Diego. I wish I could communicate the tone of voice, the respect bordering on awe, when Juan Diego's name was spoken.

We saw Mexicans—men and women—from a broad cross-section of society, wearing traditional Mexica dress and dancing traditional dances. Memorably, one traditionally dressed man was also wearing a very expensive pair of aviator dark glasses as he took a break.

Pictures Worth Far More Than Words

Reed's images convey what cannot be set down in just a few words. [Click to enlarge photos]

Conch shell, banner, purposeful pilgrims....Mexico City is almost
200 miles from Veracruz (Gulf of Mexico) and Acapulco (Pacific Ocean),
yet Aztec nobles imported Conch and other seashells through trade and
tribute. The Conch Shell is associated with Tlaloc, god of rain, and hence with Coatlicue, goddess of the earth, and Tonantzin, one of her manifestations.

A cacaphony of sights and sounds....

Banners, feathers, men, women, children....

Elaborate headdress with two tiers of bird-heads; club has animal head. 
Remember: To enlarge, left click.  

Youth wearing rosary around his neck in living syncretism—
creative fusion of two religious traditions

Proud, composed young man

Young woman blowing Conch Shell—she was one of a
line of four women blowing Conch Shells

This headdress features a deer head—deer are
associated with gods of the hunt.

Smoke arising from incense burner (center) holding copal

The kneeling woman (right) is a curandera (healer) or shaman;
in her hand she holds a chalice containing burning copal with which she
blesses the man (kneeling left); in his right hand, he holds a conch shell;
in his left hand he is holding what looks like a bastón de mando—in the shape
of an ear of corn, the bastón de mando is an ancient symbol of authority.
Early settlers of the Balsas River Valley domesticated corn from the teosinte
plant more than 5,000 years ago.

Copal burning in three-legged pots

Mexica dancer playing stringed instrument, introduced by the
Spanish during the Colonial period—another example of cultural fusion.
Reed noticed that the back of the instrument is an armadillo shell. 

Mexica drummer; note the look as he spots Reed's camera. 
Our theory is that drums were replaced by cohetes (firecrackers,  rockets) and pirotécnica (fireworks shows displayed on castillos, or towers), which the Spanish brought from China to Mexico. Black face paint is associated with Tlaloc,
God of Rain; its appearance here reinforces the relationship between the God
of Rain and the Earth Goddess—the Earth receives and stores the seasonal rains.  

Tired niño (boy) taking a rest; ankle bracelets
become rhythm instruments when he walks or dances. 

Short Dance Video

Reed shot this short (26 sec.) video to capture the dances. Watch the feet of the dancer slightly to the left of center wearing a loin cloth and red cummerbund.  He has what dancers call ballon—a French word meaning the ability to jump easily and lightly into the air.

To me, these dances seem similar to Native American dances north of the Rio Grande.  I'd be interested in the impressions of anyone who has attended a Pow-Wow.

Mass in the Nueva Basílica

Finally, we ventured into the Nueva Basílica completed in 1976. The circular building looks more like an auditorium than a church, but it assures maximum visibility from anywhere in the sanctuary of Juan Diego's tilma imprinted with the image of the Virgin.

The Basilica can seat 10,000 people. Temporary seats are often placed in the Atrio outside, which allows an additional 40,000 people to take part in Mass and other ritual celebrations.

Mass is celebrated on the spacious, multi-level altar. Image of the
Virgin is located at the lower right side of the Cross.
With all the drumming, there was no need for the organ music,
but the pipes suggest that the sound is magnificent. 

Based on the number of pilgrims it hosts per year, the Basilica is considered to be the second most important sanctuary of Catholicism, just after Vatican City in Rome.

Juan Diego's tilma with its image of the Virgin; framed and
protected with bullet-proof glass, hangs above and behind the altar.
In 1921 an anticlerical activist planted a bomb in a flower vase near the
altar; when it exploded it caused great damage to the building's interior but—miraculously, say some—the cloak survived the bombing mostly undamaged. 

A bi-directional moving sidewalk transports people past the image of the Virgin. Those who want to see the image again can take the walkway in the opposite direction. There is no limit on the number of times a person can pass in front of the image, but the moving walkway prevents anyone from lingering—for prayer or mischief—in front of the image, thus creating a people-jam or worse.  The moving sidewalk employs modern technology to resolve issues not only of faith but of security as well. 

The Basilica's own web site features a narrated video using cartoon drawings to tell Juan Diego's story—another technical solution to a traditional challenge: how to convey a message to non-readers (illiteracy aside, the majority of Mexicans are not readers).  

Juan Diego was canonized in 2002, thus becoming the first indigenous American saint—adding yet another cultural layer.     

We hadn't been in the Basilica long when we became aware of something happening.  From where we sat, all we could see was the slow progress of feathered headdresses and banners moving up a side aisle toward the altar. Entering the spacious, multi-level altar area, banner-carriers set the banners in holders placed on the altar to receive them. 

The dancers retired to a section of reserved pews. The priest announced that the mass was in honor of the dancers. It is worth noting that the Catholic missionaries pursued an intentional strategy of building on existing spiritual beliefs—somewhat along the lines of, "Your beliefs are on the right path, but fall short. Our message is the true path."

This led to a distinct syncretism—overlaying traditional beliefs and customs with Catholic ritual and beliefs. This syncretism is strikingly evident today in the traditional dress and dances and in the custom of setting off pyrotechnics arranged in the castillos.

Our Departure

We left the Basilica grounds the way we had come, retracing our steps back through the puesto-lined walkway.  But the crowds had thinned considerably, and our departure was far easier than had been our arrival.

Puesto-lined walkway with far fewer people as we departed

As we left, Reed found more images of the Virgin carved in stone.

Stone-carved Street Monument

Detail of Virgin on stone monument. 

I don't mind admitting it. We were tired, over-stimulated and completely, yet—as the Mexican saying goes, contentos y satisfechos—content and satisfied with a memorable journey into the rich, multi-dimensional layers of Mexican culture.