Día de los Muertos: 2016 | Reflections of an Expat

Día de los Muertos, Day of the Dead, is fast approaching. A dear Mexican friend living in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán (our home for our first three years in Mexico), posted British expat Clarita Mannion's thoughtful, beautifully written reflection on this most Mexican of traditions. I pass it on to you in its entirety. 

Let me die like a Mexican: embracing the Day of the Dead

“A civilisation that denies death ends by denying life.”

— Octavio Paz.

They say you only truly die when your name is spoken for the last time. Nowhere is this more true than in Mexico, where Día de los Muertos – or Day of the Dead – takes remembering lost loved ones to a whole new level.

At first glance, this national holiday may pass for a Mexican version of Halloween, with its spooky skeletons and sweet treats. But while modern Halloween exists purely to peddle pumpkins and face paint, Día de los Muertos is a bittersweet reflection on love, loss and life well lived.

According to Mexican tradition, November 2nd is the one day when souls can leave the afterlife. To help guide lost loved ones back to earth, families build elaborate altars in homes and graveyards. These offerings are draped with flower garlands and colourful crêpe paper, and hung with corn cobs, fruit and sugar cane. Dozens of flickering candles light the way, while the scent of cempasúchil – Mexican marigolds – hangs in the air.

Water, salt and sweetbread, pan de muerto, are laid out to nourish the dead after their long journey home – and it doesn’t stop there. Children’s graves are festooned with sweets and toys, while tobacco and tequila are left to tempt the spirits of adults. Families even prepare platefuls of their loved one’s favourite meals for their short time back on earth.

All this may sound morbid, but Día de los Muertos is far from a day of moping and mourning. Families gather to remember those they’ve lost, not with sadness but with songs, stories and laughter. The foods from the offerings are eaten, music played and memories shared.

To outsiders, this lack of solemnity may even seem disrespectful. But as a friend explained,

“When someone you love dies, it affects you every day, so why would you be sad on the one day they’re back here with you?”

When you look at it like that, it’s hard to argue that the Day of the Dead is anything but beautiful. But how can it possibly comfort those who – like me – don’t believe in heaven, souls or anything else beyond this world?

As an atheist, I spent my first year in Mexico looking at Día de los Muertos from the outside in; as something only other people believed in. The religious. The spiritual. Those brought up in Mexican culture. Another couple of years on, though, and I was starting to understand that this remembrance is much more than merely symbolic.

Believe in what you will, let’s say all those who ever cared about a particular person gather together in one place to remember them by sharing their most vivid and vibrant memories. Surely then, for that one moment at least, that person’s spirit really is there?

And so, while I have endless wishes for my life, I now have only one for my death: 

let me die like a Mexican.

When I’m gone – with any luck many years from now – let me be remembered as Mexicans are. Let bright orange blossoms, the gentle glow of candles and the smell of my favourite foods guide me home; let me be brought back to life once a year through the love and laughter of those who knew me.

If that’s not life after death, I don’t know what is.

Clarita's blog: Thinking Through My Fingers

Reflections on Profound Meaning of the Virgin of Guadalupe in Mexico and Beyond

Virgin of Guadalupe

Surrounded by Sun's Rays, symbols of the Holy Spirit, the

Virgin stands on the Half-Moon, which represents the female 

principle not just in Mesoamerica, but in many of the world

cosmologies; Cherub below the moon is widely believed to

be Saint Michael, patron saint of Mexico.

It is almost impossible to let the Day of the Virgin of Guadalupe go by without notice. Should one, perhaps, lose track of the day, the cohetes (rocket firecrackers) would bring the needed reminder. Other posts have described how the Faithful mark the day.

The article translated below appeared yesterday in La Jornada. Its author, José Cueli, is a psychoanalyst who contributes regularly to the paper. Far from traditional journalistic prose, today's piece is a prose poem rich in cultural references.

When I first read it, two experiences immediately came to mind. The first took place at a bookstore in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. The clerk was showing me a book whose theme seemed, to my Anglo nature, both fantastic and improbable. Reacting to my skepticism, she replied rather sharply,

"You simply won't understand Mexican culture until you understand magic and the supernatural."

Setting aside the magical realism of Colombian writer Gabriel García Márquez ("I don't invent anything; everything I write down is already there"), it's still taken some time for me to open up to the place where this aspect of human imagination and expression dwells. Cueli's piece is at home there.

The second experience took place in Chicago while I was getting a haircut. I mentioned to the Guatemalan-born hairstylist that we live in Mexico. Her reaction was remarkable: eyes widening in surprise and awe, she whispered reverentially,

"Oh, México ... México is very special."

Mexico is special in Central and South America precisely for being the place where the Virgin of Guadalupe—morena (brown-skinned), speaking Náhuatl—appeared to the newly baptized Nahua peasant Juan Diego. More precisely, La Virgen Morena appeared on the Hill of Tepeyac, site of the Nahua temple to Tonantzin, believed to be a manifestation of the Earth Mother, known as Coatlicue, the mother of all living things, conceived by immaculate and miraculous means, decider of the length of life itself. Hence, to the Mexica, the Earth was both Mother and Tomb—Giver of Life and Receiver of Human Remains decomposing to rejoin the Life-Force (Ollín).

The syncretism is striking. Many scholars have pointed out the similarities in sound and attributes between Guadalupe and Coatlicue. According to Friar Bernardo de Sahagún, Spanish missionary and primary historian of the period, the indigenous people continued to call the Lady Tonantzín until around 1560, when the Spaniards baptized her with the sole name of Guadalupe.

Over time, the Virgin of Guadalupe was also embraced by the criollos (Spanish born not in Spain, but in Nueva España—Mexico). The Virgin´s personal appearance on Mexican soil was seen as establishing a direct relationship between the land, the criollos and the Mother of God. Even as the Virgin adopted the Mexican people (el pueblo) as her own; el pueblo, in turn, adopted her as the Mother of Mexico. All of Mexico, el pueblo mexicano, could—and still does—adore her.

The Guatemalan hairstylist would add that the appearance of the Náhuatl-speaking, brown-skinned Virgin in Mexico, established a direct relationship not just with los mexicanos, but with all those who live in the Western Hemisphere. The plaza in front of the Basílica Antigua de Guadalupe, Ancient Basilica of Guadalupe, is appropriately named Atrio de las Americas, Atrium of the Americas.

Cueli's reflection incorporates all these cultural nuances. Respectfully, I present my translation to you as an unusual cultural expression of the profoundly rich inner life of many Mexicans.

_______________________

The Collective Miracle of the Union, José Cueli*

The collective miracle of the union in physical pain symbolizes the Mexican Spanish-Indigenous merger in the Virgin of Guadalupe. The encounter marks the fulfillment of an experience of exceptional intensity in keeping with the inner vitality it brings about. Rather than differences, there is identity—the identification of one with the other. Even more, confusion between the two. The fulfillment of an impossible presence of complete impossibility.

Inner purity turns into ecstasy in moments when I feel transported beyond outside appearances. An open emptiness in which I lose the difference between your [Virgin's] image and objects, imitator and imitated. In an extraordinary manner, a wonderment wells up in a feeling of uncommon fullness that ... in seconds ... gives way to brutal emptiness.

In which you disappear, and the perception no longer exists. Only the dream remains with its omens, alerts, memories ... an illumination that comes to me in an exceptional way ... and grows and pays the debt, my beloved, of pain in the realm of shadows, state of internal exhaustion, difficult to define. A transfiguration that discovers the profound experience of solitude. An intense confusion that imagines the summons to return to the routine ... heartbroken and melancholy.

Depression over the loss of self-exaltation. Clothed in the colors of a narcissism that becomes almost unbearable in that I seek, imagine and plan the return to those extraordinary moments of union, without which the future seems to stop making sense ... upon feeling myself abandoned, rejected by you, and threatened by a spiritual desolation, an incision that inserts confusion between opposites.

"In the current plaza of the Basilica of Guadalupe, called monumental, they have built two pyramid bases for the dancers on December 12. Four centuries later, representatives of the new cult see themselves as needed to erect what they destroyed four centuries ago. Undoubtedly, the XVI Century Convent and indigenous activity was the same as for the 'Calmecac', its students and priests." (Santiago Ramírez Ruiz).

Note: The Calmecac—"House of the Lineage"—was an academy for sons of Aztec nobility, where they received rigorous religious and military training.

"The slash of the Spanish la tizona [legendary sword] has not separated us from the ancient world, from the primal and original poetry of our explosive and magical responsibility. The myth became flesh. At the tip of la tizona, the feathered serpent, the pieces gathered up new and old life. They went into the woods and hid everywhere. Today they abduct and soar in words, blood and dreams, as vivid as in the codices—legends, fresh and monolithic." (Luis Cardoza y Aragón).

Note: In Spanish literature, 'la tizona' is the name given to one of the legendary swords used by El Cid to fight the Moors, who occupied Spain for 800 years, 711-1492 CE. 'The Plumed Serpent' is Quetzalcóatl, related to gods of the wind, of Venus, of the dawn, of merchants and of arts, crafts and knowledge. But, significant here, Quetzalcóatl was also the patron god of the Aztec priesthood, of learning and knowledge. The codices are the Aztec writings.

"The Virgin of Guadalupe is the surrogate mother who calms and satisfies. She stands as the symbolic banner of two cultures: one looks inward, where it has encountered philosophical truth 'under lock and key'; the other looks outward. For one ... restraint in man; for the other ... the legend." (Miguel León-Portilla) 

Spanish original

*José Cueli García, born in Mexico City in 1934, completed studies in medicine, psychology and psychoanalysis; holds the doctorate in psychology from the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM). Since 1965, Dr. Cueli has been a professor in UNAM's School of Psychology.

Quotations are all taken from the same source: Selected Works (transl.), Obras escogidas, Ed. Línea, 1983. Writers cited are:

• Santiago Ramírez Ruiz Sandoval (Mexico City, 1921-1989), physician (UNAM) and psychoanalist.
• Luis Cardoza y Aragón (1901-1992), Guatemalan writer, essayist, poet, art critic and diplomat, spent much of his life in exile in Mexico.
• Miguel León-Portilla (Mexico City, 1926- ), Mexican anthropologist and historian (UNAM), is a prime authority on Náhuatl thought and literature.

Halloween and Day of the Dead: Same? Different? Little of Each?

This question doesn't even come up in Mexico's traditional, rural regions, but it's increasingly relevant in Mexico's urban settings, where television and the supermarkets have introduced the trappings of Halloween into Mexican culture.  Along the culturally porous frontier region between Mexico and its northern neighbor, of course, this is indeed an intriguing question.

Halloween: Western European Tradition

Halloween, or Hallowe'en — a contraction of "All Hallows’ Evening" — is also known as Allhalloween, All Hallows' Eve, or All Saints' Eve. Regardless of what it's called, it is a yearly celebration observed in a number of countries on October 31, eve of the Western Christian feast of All Hallows' (Saints') Day that begins the three-day observance of Allhallowtide — the season in the liturgical year dedicated to remembering the dead, including saints (hallows), martyrs, and all the faithful departed believers.

Pre-Christian Roots

All Hallows' Eve is influenced by Celtic harvest festivals, particularly the Gaelic festival Samhain (pronounced / sah-win or sow-in), which marks the end of the harvest season and the beginning of winter or the year's "darker half". Traditionally, Samhain is celebrated from sunset on October 31 to sunset on November 1, which puts it about halfway between the Autumn Equinox (September 21) and the Winter Solstice (December 21).

Evidence exists that Samhain has been an important date since ancient times. It is mentioned in some of the earliest Irish literature, and many important events in Irish mythology take place or begin on Samhain. It was the time when cattle were brought back down from the summer pastures, and livestock were slaughtered for the winter.

Special bonfires were ritually lit. The bonfires' flames, smoke and ashes were deemed to have protective and cleansing powers and were also used for divination, especially regarding death and marriage. Some suggest the fires were a kind of imitative or sympathetic magic — they mimicked the Sun, helping the "powers of growth" and holding back the decay and darkness of the coming winter.

Samhain was seen as a liminal time; that is, when the boundary between this world and the Otherworld thinned and hence could more easily be crossed. This meant the 'spirits' or 'fairies' — Aos Sí (pronounced / ees shee) — could come into our world. At Samhain it was believed that the Aos Sí — gods and nature spirits — needed to be propitiated to ensure that the people and their livestock would survive the harsh winter. Offerings of food and drink were left outside for them.

The souls of the dead were thought to revisit their homes seeking hospitality. Feasts were held, and souls of dead kin were beckoned to attend. A place was set for them at the table and a spot was reserved for them by the bonfire.

Mumming (seasonal folk plays performed by troupes of actors) was part of the festival, as was guising, when people went door-to-door in costume (disguise), often reciting verses in exchange for food. The costumes may have been a way of imitating, and disguising oneself from, the Aos Sí. Impersonating these beings, or wearing a disguise, was believed to protect oneself from them. It is suggested that the mummers and guisers

"personify the old spirits of the winter, who demanded reward in exchange for good fortune."

On the custom of wearing costumes, Christian minister Prince Sorie Conteh wrote (2009):

"It was traditionally believed that the souls of the departed wandered the earth until All Saints' Day, and All Hallows' Eve provided one last chance for the dead to gain vengeance on their enemies before moving to the next world. In order to avoid being recognized by any soul that might be seeking such vengeance, people would don masks or costumes to disguise their identities."

From at least the 18th century, "imitating malignant spirits" led to playing pranks in Ireland and the Scottish Highlands. In the 20th century, wearing costumes and playing pranks at Halloween spread to England.

Traditional Irish Halloween turnip (rutabaga) lantern on display,
 Museum of Country Life, Ireland

The

"traditional illumination for guisers or pranksters abroad on the night in some places was provided by turnips, hollowed out to act as lanterns and often carved with grotesque faces."

Those who made them said the lanterns were to represent the spirits or, alternatively, to ward off evil spirits. They were common in parts of Ireland and the Scottish Highlands in the 19th century. In the 20th century they spread to other parts of England and became generally known as Jack-o'-Lanterns, which in North America are carved from pumpkins.

Christian Influences

Today's Halloween customs are also thought to have been influenced by Christian dogma and practices derived from it. Since the time of the early Church, major feasts in the Christian Church (such as Christmas, Easter and Pentecost) had vigils that began the night before, as did the feast of All Hallows'. Collectively referred to as Allhallowtide, these three days — eve of October 31 to sunset on November 2 — are a time for honoring the saints and praying for the recently departed souls who have yet to reach Heaven.

Introduced in the year 609, All Saints was originally celebrated on May 13, the same date as Lemuria, an ancient Roman festival of the dead. In 835, at the behest of Pope Gregory IV, All Saints was officially switched to November 1, the same date as Samhain. Some suggest this was due to Celtic influence; others suggest it was a Germanic idea. It is claimed that both Germanic and Celtic-speaking peoples commemorated the dead at the beginning of winter, which may have been seen as the most fitting time to do so, since that was when the plants themselves were 'dying'.

By the end of the 12th century the three days of Allhallowtide had become holy days of obligation across Europe and involved such traditions as ringing church bells for the souls in purgatory. In addition,

"it was customary for criers dressed in black to parade the streets, ringing a bell of mournful sound and calling on all good Christians to remember the poor souls."

In medieval Europe at Halloween,

"fires [were] lit to guide these souls on their way and deflect them from haunting honest Christian folk." 

Households in Austria, England and Ireland often had

"candles burning in every room to guide the souls back to visit their earthly homes."

'Souling', the custom of baking and sharing soul cakes (a small, round traditional cake) for all christened souls, has been suggested as the origin of Trick-or-Treating. The custom dates at least as far back as the 15th century and was found in parts of England, Flanders, Germany and Austria. Groups of poor people, often children, would go door-to-door during Allhallowtide, collecting soul cakes in exchange for praying for the dead, especially the souls of the givers' friends and relatives. Soul cakes would also be offered for the souls themselves to eat, or the 'soulers' would act as their representatives.

Halloween Customs in North America

The practice of guising at Halloween in North America doesn't appear until 1911, when a Kingston, Ontario, newspaper reported children going "guising" around the neighborhood. Another reference to ritual begging on Halloween appears, place unknown, in 1915, and a third shows up in Chicago in 1920. 

Trick-or-Treat is a customary Halloween celebration for children, who go house to house in costume, asking for treats such as candy or sometimes money, with the question, "Trick or Treat?" The word "trick" refers to "threat" to perform mischief on the homeowners or their property if no treat is given. But it turns out that Trick-or-Treat may be a 20th century invention. The earliest known use in print of the term "Trick or Treat" appears in 1927, in the Blackie Herald of Alberta, Canada.

American historian Ruth Edna Kelley of Massachusetts wrote the first history of Halloween in the U.S., The Book of Hallowe'en (1919). In the chapter "Hallowe'en in America", Kelley describes souling and has this to say on customs that arrived from across the Atlantic:

"Americans have fostered them, and are making this an occasion something like what it must have been in its best days overseas. All Halloween customs in the United States are borrowed directly or adapted from those of other countries."

Between the turn of the 20th century and the 1920s, thousands of Halloween postcards were produced showing children, but not Trick-or-Treating, which doesn't seem to have become a widespread practice until the 1930s. The term first appeared in the U.S. in 1934, and its first use in a national publication occurred in 1939.

Día de los Muertos / Day of the Dead: Mesoamerican Roots

Original peoples in South Central Mexico and North Central America (Mesoamerica) are known for having "very elaborate forms of spirituality" linked to the annual agricultural cycle grounded in the sun's annual passage across the heavens.

Mexico's geography, climate and natural forces, are very different from Europe's. The vulnerability of this land's early inhabitants to the vicissitudes of natural phenomena — volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, cyclones from the Pacific, hurricanes from the Caribbean and Atlantic, landslides, floods, and drought — honed in them a keen awareness that they were indeed not in charge; in fact, they were at the mercy of la naturaleza (forces of nature). The Mesoamerican worldview has been described like this:

"Rather than imagining a god separate from his creation, the thinkers of Mesoamerica conceived of the divine as the Life-Force itself, constantly creating, ordering, sustaining, destroying and recreating the world."

The Mesoamerican peoples perceived the cosmos as centered on the human world at the earthly level, around which the sun revolved in its daily cycle, rising to the zenith of Heaven, then descending into night and the Underworld. These themes appear in the design of the altars or ofrendas, offerings, that reproduce the Mesoamerican cosmovisión ("worldview"). The altars represent the

• Underworld [ground level], where incensarios (censers burning copal) are placed; the 
• Earthly level [midpoint], where offerings [bread, fruit, water, salt, tequila, cerveza] are placed; and the 
• Heavens [upper level], with images and photographs of the dead.

Ofrenda, Offering, in private home;
a neighbor is placing her gift of fruit

The altars, characterized in most cases by their bright colors, are complete with copal incense and sweet drinks fermented from corn, chocolate, typical dishes like pumpkin or sweet tamales. It is customary to place the names of the deceased with their photographs.

"Here, what appears is a celebration of Life, there is a joy in being connected with the dead. (...) I believe that it is the end of a human cycle that is lived with great joy," observed Andrés Merino, a member of the Institute of Anthropological Research at the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM) .

During this celebration, in addition to going to the cemeteries, children often go out on the streets to sing praises and ask offerings on behalf of the dead, with a chilacayote (a fruit similar to pumpkin) with a candle inside. Dr. Merino believes this custom leads to confusing Día de los Muertos with Halloween.

Spanish Catholic Influences

The Catholic Hispanic legacy is seen, for example, in the pan de muerto [bread of the dead], made with wheat flour [introduced by the Spanish], eggs, sugar and anise; in the placement of fruits and flowers not native to the region [also brought by the Spanish] on altars, and in the use of candles and such Christian concepts as "souls" in referring to the dead who return this one night in the year.

Same, Different, Little of Each?

At first glance, Halloween and Día de los Muertos are similar. Both relate to the agricultural cycle, itself linked to the sun's annual journey, and both occur at the midpoint between the Autumnal Solstice and the Winter Equinox. The belief that the souls of the dead return home on one night of the year seems to have ancient origins; it is found in many cultures throughout the world but, as the saying goes, 'the devil is in the details'.

The European harvest festival was motivated by anticipation of the "dark part" of the year and the fervant desire to gain protection against it. However, Mexico's unique geography and the Mesoamerican cosmovisión that grew up in response to the natural challenges faced by Mexico's early peoples gave rise to both a form and meaning of Día de los Muertos that is quite distinct from the symbolism of Halloween.

Nonetheless, the medieval Spanish Catholic legacy that is part of Mexican culture in general and Día de los Muertos in particular does share common elements with the tradition of Halloween. This becomes more understandable when we realize that the region inhabited by the Celts included a large part of the Iberian Peninsula (Spain).

The pan de muerto, for example, is similar to the soul cakes that are part of Halloween, as is the use of candles and reference to such Christian concepts as "souls" for referring to the dead who return on this one night.

Pan de Muerto / Bread of Death in shape of human with crossed arms
Photo: Reed

As as it did in Europe, human welfare in Mexico depended on the agricultural cycle for producing successful corn crops, which culminated with the "harvest festival" or "festival of the dead" presided over by the goddess Mictecacíhuatl, known as Lady Death, and her husband Mictlantecuhtli, Lord of the Land of the Dead. Today, Lady Death is represented as La Catrina, the character created by graphic artist José Guadalupe Posada and made popular by his disciple and friend, Mexican muralist Diego Rivera.

La Catrina is in center in this detail from Diego Rivera's
 Sueño de la tarde dominical en la Alameda Central /
Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in Alameda Central (1947)

Mexico / United States

Mexico and the United States are a single geological region, increasingly linked economically, socially and culturally. What better way, then, to introduce the cross-border cultural influence — which today pretty much runs in both directions — than by presenting Tucson Artist Hank Tusinski's ~:BANDA CALACA:~ now at the Tucson Museum of Art until January 3, 2016.

The work features a nearly life-size, 15-piece free-standing papier mâche skeleton mariachi band with musical instruments on an installation about 12 feet high, 25 feet long, and 6 feet wide. The work is unusual given that Tusinski is a devout Zen Buddhist:

"Tusinski’s work focuses on integrating the beliefs of Mesoamerica, Mexican contemporary indigenous communities, and contemporary Buddhists about death as a transformational process to be celebrated. A journey to Michoacán, Mexico, introduced Tusinski to the indigenous P΄urhépecha peoples’ use of music in their Festival of the Spirit as an embodiment of spirit. This is the well-spring of ~:BANDA CALACA:~." 

Tusinski says

“The fundamental dilemma of existence is the nature of life and death. There is potential liberation and joy in death. ~:BANDA CALACA:~ is offered with the intention of creating the opportunity to view this transition as energy that continues infinitely. The skeleton band represents the individual and the universal dance in the eternal flow.”

Dr. Julie Sasse, TMA Chief Curator and Curator of Modern and Contemporary Art, said:

“Tusinski’s ~:BANDA CALACA:~ is a riot of color, pattern, and imagery. His work reminds us to celebrate life in death, to honor the past in the present, and to embrace the universality of spiritual openness.”

~:BANDA CALACA:~  ...  an energetic representation of the Life-Force itself ...

~:BANDA CALACA:~
Hank Tusinski
Photo: Courtesy of the Artist

See also: Día de los Muertos.

Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) Traditions

This morning I saw a photo on Facebook of an ofrenda (offering, altar) in the home of a thoroughly modern young Mexican friend in observance of Día de los Muertos — Day of the Dead. Her photo reminded me of the importance of Día de los Muertos throughout Mexico.

Graves in observance of Día de los Muertos in Tzurumútaro Cemetery,
outskirts of Pátzcuaro, Michoacán 

A few minutes later, I received a lovely note from a long-time, faithful follower of Jenny's blog, letting me know that she is referring first-time visitors to Mexico to Jenny's Día de los Muertos posts. It occurred to me that it might be useful to have them all in one place, so I've listed them at the bottom.

Día de los Muertos is actually a two-day celebration:

November 1 is dedicated to the souls of children who have died and to those of adults who have never married. In the predawn hours of November 2, it is believed that the spirits of all who have died are able to return to their homes, guided by the candles and burning copal (incense).

Families keep vigil through the night to welcome these souls either next to ofrendas set up in their homes, or at their graves in the cemeteries, which are bathed in candlelight. The profusion of traditional orange marigolds gives the light an unforgettable amber glow. In the background is heard the soft murmur of family members conversing quietly in quite an ordinary way. In no wise is this a sad occasion; rather, it is a profound moment for recalling Life in Death.

Día de los Muertos (Link to Page display of Posts described below)

These first three posts were written just after we  moved from Pátzcuaro, Michoacán — where we'd made our home for three years — to Mexico City. Feeling somewhat disoriented in our new urban setting and homesick for the traditions that now felt so far away, I found myself drawn to tell the story of Día de los Muertos as I had come to understand it from the Purhépecha tradition:

• Día de los Muertos: Mesoamerican Roots;
• Día de los Muertos: Preparations;
• Día de los Muertos: Ritual Observances.

This highly personal post deepens the spiritual meaning of death in Purhépecha communities:

• Día de los Muertos: "Yo Soy la Tierra" — "I am the Earth".

Then, last year, I came upon an article in the Mexican press that provided the long-sought answer to a key question about this powerful tradition:

• Day of the Dead Altars: Symbols.

Here's one describing Día de los Muertos Observances in other parts of Mexico:

• Mexico: Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead).

Here's an excellent account of what happens in the first four years after death, grounding the tradition in 'Aztec' (Nahua) philosophy.

• What Day of the Dead tells us about the Aztec philosophy of Living Well, Lynn Sebastian Purcell, PhD, The Conversation, October 30, 2020. 

Reflections on Sustainability: "Water Is Life"

Written last May, this post brings together themes I've been mulling over for several months. It's taken a little time for me to get my head and heart around what seems to me to be the only message at this time. I plan to publish other posts soon centering on the same theme: the Health of Our Planet, Our Spaceship, Mother Earth, and what we can learn from Her Original Peoples—in Mexico, yes, of course; but also in the Western Hemisphere, and around the world.

Personal History Tells Bigger Story

I was born in Chicago six months before the attack on Pearl Harbor. As a Reserve Army Officer, my father was called up and stationed in California. My mother and I joined him there. When the war ended, my Dad—a civil engineer—looked around and concluded, "A lot of people here need water and sewage treatment plants." Given that water was his specialty, he decided to stay. He wasn't alone.

In 1940, California's population was 6.95 million. At the war's end (1945), it had swelled to 9.3 million. When I graduated from high school (1959), it was 15.47 million; at my college graduation (1963), it was 17.67 million. By 1970, it had risen to 19.97 million. In just thirty years (1940-1970), California's population had nearly tripled.

But that wasn't anywhere near the end of the Golden State's explosive growth. By 2014, it stood at 38.8 million—that's nearly double what it had been in 1970! One thing was absolutely certain: Everyone needed water.

Over the course of his 30-plus year, post-WWII civil engineering career, my father put in if not the majority, then a significant share of the water and sewage treatment plants up, down and across California. In retirement, he told me that across the years he had watched the water tables consistently drop: "I've never seen them restored. 'They' are going to have to fix that."

Given California's epic four-year drought, it appears the time has come for 'them' to take action. Governor Jerry Brown's executive order mandating a 25 percent decrease in urban water usage may have been historic. Yet Robert Reich asks a good question (Facebook, 4/4/2015):

Why did Governor Jerry Brown exempt Big Oil and Big Agriculture from his order this week to cut water consumption by 25 percent? Big Oil uses more than 2 million gallons of fresh water a day in California for fracking, acidizing, and steam injections – nearly 70 million gallons last year alone. Meanwhile, California’s farmers consume 80 percent of the water used in the state but generate only 2 percent of the state’s economic activity.

Oddly, the Governor’s order focuses on urban water use, which makes up less than a quarter of the water consumed here. California could save the same amount of water by requiring its farmers to increase water efficiency by 5 percent. And in this seismically-challenged state, there’s no reason to continue allowing water-intensive fracking, which has been shown to increase the likelihood of earthquakes (just look at Oklahoma).

Mexico's Original Peoples Knew It First: Water Is Life

The seventh anniversary of our arrival in Mexico to stay came up last July. For the first three years, we had the good fortune to have lived in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán. The people of this pueblo mágico gave us an unparalleled opportunity to become acquainted with the guiding cosmovision, myths and traditions of Mexico's original peoples.

Early posts in Jenny's Journal told stories about what we were learning and experiencing. One of the earliest on this theme is: Mesoamerican Culture: The Human Bond with Nature (8/22/2011). Two years later: The Enduring Power of Mexico's Natural Forces (9/19/2013). Both cite the oft-repeated Mexican dicho, saying, El agua es vida—Water is Life.

If I were to sum up our experience, I would say: Living in partnership with the earth; e.g., Mexico's Volcanoes & Mesoamerican Mythology (1/11/2012). One of my all-time favorite posts focuses precisely on that theme: "I Am the Earth."

The longer we live here, the more it becomes clear that familiarity with this ancient cosmovision lends cultural texture to much of what we encounter in Mexico. For example, toward the end of his formal announcement of a Zapatista conference scheduled for last May 3, 2015, Zapatista Subcomandante Galeano (nee Subcomandante Marcos) wrote:

Conference Begins on May 3. Why May 3? 

In our villages, May 3 is the day of planting, fertility, harvest. It is the day of the seed, the day of Santa Cruz, Holy Cross. In the pueblos, villages it is customary to plant a cross where the river begins, at the gully or spring that gives life to the settlement. This is how the place is shown to be sacred. It is sacred because the water gives life. 

May 3 is the day of asking for water for planting and a good harvest. On that day, the villagers go to give offerings where the waters are born. Or rather, as they speak to the water, they give it their flowers, they give it the bowl of atole (corn-based beverage), their incense, their salt-free pozole (chicken-corn soup). In other villages, they give a little drink, but alcohol is prohibited in Zapatista villages, so they offer a soda to the water. The pozole offered to the water is without salt, so the water doesn't dry up. During this ceremony of offering, they play music and everyone begins to dance—men, women, children, young people, old people—everyone!

When the offering ends, the socializing begins. The comida (food) they brought is shared: atole, chicken, beans, pumpkin. All the food is eaten communally at the very source of the life-giving water. When the meal ends, the people return to their houses. And now for pure joy, they continue the dance in the village and, still together as a community, they eat and have coffee with bread.

So there it is:

Zapatista vision infused with traditional Maya myth and custom overlaid with a patina of Roman Catholic Christianity: Holy Cross.

In distinct contrast to the so-called 'modern' approach taken in California by Democratic Governor Jerry Brown.

Qué te vaya bien ... May it go well with you.

Day of the Dead Altars: Symbols

Today is the first day of Día de los Muertos, Day of the Dead, a two-day commemoration of those who have died.

One year when we lived in Pátzcuaro, we traveled to a nearby pueblo to visit their panteón, cemetery. On the way, we passed a house whose street door was wide open. Inside we could see a seven-tier altar in commemoration of the grandmother, who had died that year.

Seven-Tier Family Altar Honoring the Grandmother
Photo: Reed Brundage

I've always wondered about the meaning of the seven levels, so I was pleased to come across this article in Aristegui Noticias [News]:

"If there is one tradition that unites Mexicans, it is Día de los Muertos, Day of the Dead. November 1 and 2 are two days dedicated to those who have departed. It makes no difference whether they left yesterday or a hundred years ago. The deceased return because we call them. 

"They return to enjoy what they find on the altar dedicated to them. Or they return to listen to us sing their favorite songs in the graveyards. They return, and we find them at some point, whether in the cemetery or in what was once their house, where their photographs are still displayed."

The altar is an essential component of Día de los Muertos. Altars with two levels represent Heaven and Earth. Altars with three levels represent Heaven, Purgatory and Earth. The most traditional altar has seven levels, which represent the levels the deceased must pass through in order to rest in peace.

As with most things in Mexico, there is great variation in the arrangement of the altar levels. Here's how they appear on the diagram (starting at the top):

• Level 1: Image of Saint to whom deceased is devoted;
• Level 2: Intended for the Souls in Purgatory and that the Deceased might have permission to leave that place;
• Level 3: Salt is placed to purify the Spirit of the Children from Purgatory and so the body is not corrupted on the journey;
• Level 4: Pan de muerto, Bread of the Dead, is offered as nourishment for the Souls;
• Level 5: Food and Fruit preferred by the Deceased;
• Level 6: Photo of the Deceased to whom the altar is dedicated;
• Level 7: A Cross fashioned of Seeds, Fruit, Ash or Lime; serves so Deceased may expiate his or her sins.

Source: Notimex via Aristegui Noticias

Across the bottom of the diagram is a row of circles displaying the principal elements used in altars:

• Water: Water of Life is offered to Souls of the Dead to alleviate their thirst;
• Candles: Candles and votive lights guide Souls to their old homes and illuminate their return to their ultimate abode;
• Cut Paper: Represents the Wind and Festive Joy;
• Flowers: Adorn the altar ...

• Orange petals of marigolds, cempasúchil, form the path that guides the Souls;

• White represents the Sky;

• Yellow represents the Earth;

• Purple represents mourning and cleanses the place of bad spirits.

• Figure of Dog Xoloitzcuintle [Mexican Hairless]: Allows the Spirits of Children to feel content as they arrive at the banquet;
• Woven Bed Mat, Petate: Serves as a bed or table so the Spirits may rest; 
• Bread of Dead, Pan de Muertos: Its circular form represents the Cycle of Life and Death; it has four appendages in the form of a Cross that symbolize the Four Cardinal Directions;
• Sugar Skulls: Allusion to the Death that is ever-present;
• Drinks: Deceased Spirit's favorite beverages.

Let me leave you with one more image. The altar shown below is dedicated to those who have died in the violence in Mexico. The walls are covered with white handkerchiefs on which the story of a victim's death has been stitched in red thread by a member of the group Fuentes Rojas, Red Fountains | Bordando por la Paz, Embroidering for Peace.

Photo: Fuentes Rojas Facebook Page 

Related Jenny's Posts:

• Día de los Muertos: Mesoamerican Roots;
• Día de los Muertos: Preparations;
• Día de los Muertos: Ritual Observances;
• Día de los Muertos: "Yo soy la Tierra"--"I am the Earth";
• Día de los Muertos commemorations in other regions of Mexico.

Cultivating Corn on Michoacán's Purhépecha Meseta: An Ancient Wager

Looking Across Fields on the Purhépecha Meseta,
or Highlands; at 2,200 meters (7,217 ft); the cerros, hills,
can rise another 900 meters (3,000 ft)

For our first three years in Mexico, we lived in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán. Our initial intent was to focus on improving our Spanish by living embedded among Mexico's people in order to experience as much as we could of daily life, customs and culture. Pátzcuaro was a fortuitous choice. As one of the country's 83 Pueblos Mágicos, Pátzcuarenses are accustomed to Mexican and foreign tourists. Our impression is that Patzcuarenses were touched by our genuine interest in daily life and customs.

We had help. CELEP, our language school, views the process of learning Spanish as one of opening a 'window on the culture'. Welcoming and engaging, CELEP's teachers enthusiastically embrace their role as cultural guides. Needless to say, we took advantage of all the school had to offer!

We choose not to drive in Mexico, relying instead on taxis. In Pátzcuaro, we were regular customers of Monarca, whose drivers came to know us because we invariably struck up conversations about almost anything as a relaxed, low-key way to practice our Spanish.

One of our favorite Sunday pastimes was to engage a driver for a ride up to the Purhépecha Meseta, or Highlands. In an earlier post, I described the countryside, which is stunningly beautiful. When we decided to move to Pátzcuaro, we had no idea that we would encounter Purhépecha culture, vibrantly alive in the region around Pátzcuaro, or that it would have such an impact on us.

So you can imagine the flood of memories let loose when I came across this article in the La Jornada newspaper.  The author is César Moheno,* recently appointed Technical Secretary of the National Institute of History and Anthropology (INAH). Moheno's essay is written in a lyrical, even poetic style, which I attempted to preserve in the translation.

Something to keep in mind is that corn was originally domesticated in Mexico's river basins. Corn is to the Americas what rice is to China and wheat is to the people in the Levant Region of the Middle East. The need to assure a good corn crop, essential for the people's survival, became an essential role performed by Mesoamerica's god-kings.

The current battle to prevent the cultivation of genetically modified corn in Mexico is being waged precisely to protect the multiple varieties of native corn that have grown up over millenia to adapt to Mexico's countless ecosystems ("Our Heart is Made of Corn").

With that context, here is César Moheno's essay, "The Blessings of the Dream" [Los beneficios del sueño]:

"Many days ago I walked along the road of Don Joel Equihua in one of the most remote parts of the forest on the Purépecha Meseta in Michoacán. Despite the many intervening years, he recognized my step and, as if time didn't exist, we sat on the path, resumed the conversation and began to recount the stories of the peoples. They might have happened yesterday or a hundred years ago. These stories serve to guide us in our world. So we are fortunate, he told me, that we never feel alone. 

"Waking early on a Wednesday morning in March of last year, he realized that the day would be warm, very suitable for planting. As he dressed, he remember his father and his father's father. Every year they had planted corn on the same land. He knew that his son would already be preparing the ox team, and his grandson would be pouring the fertilizer into the buckets. He remembered that it had always been so, and it would be so until the end of time. He knew his plot better than anyone, much better than his body, better than his hand, better even than his wife. All had changed over the years. Their lands and ways of relating to it would remain almost unchanged.

Milpa, Corn Field on Purhépecha Meseta, Michoacán
(Photo: Mexico Voices)

"Seeing him walk, step by step, through the newly opened furrow, one thinks of a dance learned at the beginning of life. He knows not to exaggerate his hopes, but he can never prevent yearning for the future ... that dream in which he sees himself walking in the middle of plants as tall as he. He knows that since October [harvest] the blessings of the land have been fulfilled, and he hopes that no late frost might occur. Following the team led by his son and his grandson sprinkling fertilizer into the furrow, he recalls that he had left the land fallow since late November. He sees himself and his neighbors plowing all the plots with a narrower plow. Everything seems like the needles of a large fabric. As in the second plowing of late December and early January, he hears once again the music of the cúrpites that is heard in all the fields as they are worked."

MV Note: Los cúrpites are unique in popular Purhépecha consciousness. Harbingers of spring, they are an awareness that is felt, impalpable. Los cúrpites appear to those who want them. They are pure, unrestrained, boundless fertility. There are no possible limits to their presence, no definitions, no borders. 

"When he had sown more than half the plot, that small twinge began, like every year, between his stomach and his heart. He never knows how to pinpoint it, but it is always present until the plant's 'little needle' sprouted. He remembers the first time he felt it was when his grandfather explained, with a very serious face, that he should put many stones at the foot of his land to prevent the birds and livestock from entering the plot if they tried to approach. He knew that with the first rains in late May and early June the plants would have already grown two hands [about eight inches] and then it was time for weeding, pulling all the weeds contrary to the corn. All this he knew, and he knew that I knew it, but he continued in his head with the benefits that you had to give your corn field in order to shoo away this pang of emptiness that continued between the stomach and the heart.

"Like any good farmer, after weeding he would have to hill up the corn. Many years ago, this work was tended to with his wife. He saw the muzzle made of cord that was put on the team of oxen to prevent them from satisfying their taste for eating the young corn, and he saw himself preparing the special plow for piling the earth against the seedlings so that, by remaining well repretada [hilled up], they could be protected from the wind and rain. This was the last benefit given to the planted corn. For the next three months, he would only watch it grow until toward the end of October the ears are full.

"On the way back to town, perhaps because his son and grandson walk in silence, or because of the late-afternoon light that lengthens their shadows and fades their colors, or simply to give wings to his innermost desire, he recalled that during the months of November and December, the pueblo [village] would be deserted, and he wondered why he felt like singing when, in the afternoon, returning with the caravan of harvesters, all sweaty and dirty, but with their chundes [huge baskets], gunny sacks and wagons full of corn to fill the stalls of the trojes [traditional Purépecha structures used as barns].

Drawing: Troje for Storing Corn

"The harvesters were men and women; young people, children and old folks. Everyone making jokes on the ride back to town, saying coarse things or simply smiling. Everyone was paid in kind: one chiquihuite of corn for each day worked. He smiles when he thinks that in this way those in the pueblo who have no land can have corn for themselves, since they are given preference. By this custom, at times the landless harvesters gather more corn than he himself.

Traditional Troje

"Arriving at his house and while removing the dirt from his feet, he turns to ask, as he does every year upon returning from cultivating his plot, if this time he'll be able to bear once again on his back the weight of a chunde full of fresh-picked corn. Following this unanswered question, as every year since he has worked the land, in that very instant, as always, hope returns.

"From this intensity—from the incandescent energy radiated by these men and women of the rural world in the theater of Michoacán's natural world; from this universe as close to Lorca as to Faulkner, to Berger as to Rulfo—comes the storyline of the times, paced by the pulse of harvest and sowing, of fiesta and challenge, cycles of life among those who plant. 

"So the campesinos of the Purepecha Meseta wager on what must be preserved in order to change. Of what must continue with the blessings of dream in order to preserve the culture and way of life until the end of time. This is the wager that the entire Mexican society should urgently join today. It is an invitation to recover the blessings of the dream." Spanish original

Postscript: I thought I would end this post with the translation, but I had the uncomfortable feeling of having left something unsaid, a sense that something was missing, an unarticulated message about the urgent need to develop sustainable ways of living on our Planet Earth. I never cease to be amazed by what Carl Jung termed synchronicity, or 'meaningful coincidence'—things that happen seemingly out of the blue.

Yesterday in Common Dreams this headline caught my eye: "Walk Softly. This is Earth. We Have Much Still to Learn." The author is Robert Koehler, Chicago-based Peace Journalist. Koehler begins his article by quoting the Arhuaco original people of Colombia:

"When you go to dig your fields, or make a pot from clay, you are disturbing the balance of things. When you walk, you are moving the air, breathing it in and out. Therefore you must make payments.”

Payments is simply another word for describing what Don Joel refers to when he speaks of giving benefits to his corn field. The article continues:

"Oh, unraveling planet, exploited, polluted, overrun with berserk human technology. How does one face it with anything other than rage and despair, which quickly harden into cynicism? And cynicism is just another word for helplessness. 

"So I listen to the Arhuaco people of northern Colombia, quoted above at the Survival International website, and imagine—or try to imagine—a reverence for planetary balance so profound I become aware that when I walk I disturb it, so I must walk with gratitude and a sense of indebtedness. Walk softly, walk softly . . ."

The ground of César Moheno's conversation with Don Joel Equiha is, quite literally, this same profound reverence for Mother Earth. Yes, we do indeed still have much to learn from the world's indigenous peoples . . . if we open our ears to hear.

*César Moheno, Technical Secretary of the National Institute of History and Anthropology [INAH], has extensive experience in the field of investigation; namely, Center of Rural Studies at the College of Michoacán; in the Department of Historic Studies at INAH; and Maison des Sciencies de l'Homme in Paris, France. Moheno's published works include "En la nostalgia del futuro: La vida en el bosque indígena de Michoacán" ("Yearning for the future: Life in the indigenous forest of Michoacán") and "Mayas: Espacios de la memoria" ("Maya: Spaces of Memory").  Twitter: @ cesar_moheno

Tepoztlán II: What We Found On the 'Other Side of the Mountain'

What started out as a simple weekend getaway in Tepoztlán, Morelos, turned out to be far more. Tepoztlán is just the other side of the mountain range that runs Southeast-South of the volcano Popoctéptel and separates the Valley of Mexico from the Valley of Tepoztlán. It's the mountain range visible by looking south on clear days from our apartment's balcony in Coyoacán.

The Valley  of Tepoztlán is on the other side of Ajusco Volcano, South of Mexico City
(Photo: Reed, by leaning out our West-facing Bedroom Window!)

We've lived in Mexico for five years, but we can still be surprised and delighted not only by the drama and sheer majesty of the Mexican countryside but by the multiple levels of Mexican culture—the clearly discernible, if subtle, threads in the complex cultural weave that is Mexico today. Never has all this complexity come together with quite the power as during our recent visit to the Sacred Valley of Tepoztlán.

The Valley of Tepoztlán is formed by three mountain ranges. The original peoples identified each cerro, hill, as the domain of a specific named god. Regarding the use of the word 'hill'. Tepoztlán is at 1,700 meters (5,577 feet) above sea level, so the 'hills' are really mountain peaks. Be that as it may, in Mexico they are cerros, hills.

On our way to visit the ex-Convento, we came upon the street where the Saturday Open-Air Market was being held.

Market-Day in Tepoztlán Framed by the Pueblo's Ever-Present 'Hills'

Continuing on, we arrived at the door to the spacious Atrio, or forecourt, of the former Dominican Convent. To our right rises the 16th c. Church of the Natividad, Nativity.

Church of the Natividad (Photo: México Desconocido)

Exceptionally large, the Atrio space is nonetheless dominated by El Tepozteco mountain, which rises 600 meters (almost 2,000 feet) behind it.

Outdoor Shrine Guarded by El Tepozteco

Newlyweds Leaving the Church ... Looking Pretty Scared

Women of Tepoztlán Taking a Break

Little Girl Engrossed in Play 

Next we head for the ex-Convento located on the far side of the church.

Walkway Along One Side of Atrio Between Shrine and Entrance to ex-Convento.

In front of us a door opens into the inner courtyard typical of Spanish Colonial architecture.

Moorish Arches ...

Interior hall runs around the courtyard, providing shelter from the rains.
Notice the mural paintings on every inch of the walls and ceiling.

Detail: Mural Paintings

We are embraced by the simple sense of calm created by this architecture. Reed: "The Spaniards knew how to do tranquillity."

Symmetry and Proportion Create Sense of Tranquillity

Kitchen Garden

As Glimpsed From the Inside 

The Outside World  ... Viewed From Within

Climbing the stairs to the second floor, we are initially attracted to the sunlight coming in from the inner courtyard.

The design of the fountain derives from the Moors, who occupied Spain for 800 years.

Catching our eye is a small, covered porch whose arches frame unforgettable views of El Tepozteco mountain range.

El Tepozteco Mountain Range

More mountains ....

Unusual rock formation ....

Thoughtful Spanish friars constructed cement benches along the wall. As we sat, taking in the power of place created by the majesty of the mountains, questions inevitably arose: How were these mountain ranges formed? What is the geography of this area? Who were the original people, and how did they live before the Spanish arrived?

How the Mountains Were Formed

Reed reminded me that the area is right smack in the middle of the Volcanic Axis that belts Mexico's mid-section.

Mexico City and Environs: Volcanic Axis indicated by Red Lines.
Note: State of Morelos (Lower Left) and Popocatéptl Volcano (Lower Right).
Tepoztlán is in State of Morelos, between bottom two red lines.

Later I learned that the mountains are the result of two sets of tectonic forces:

• Compressive forces that acted horizontally, side-to-side (East-West); and
• Other pressures originating deep inside the earth that resulted in vertical, up-down movements.

What a wild ride those contrary forces would have created as they folded and buckled the earth's crust!

From pyramid looking across Valley of Tepoztlán to range on other side. (CLICK to enlarge)
Notice the lines of mountain ranges ... the 'folds' created by tectonic forces. (Photo: Yuri)

The region's elongated and generally asymmetric mountains were created by the high spots on the folds that run East to West. Low spots on the folds created valleys like the Valley of Tepoztlán. These same contrary forces created the 'breaks' in sections of the mountain.

Young friend climbing El Tepozteco stands where path follows gigantic "crack" in the rocks.
(Photo: Yuri)

The mountainous terrain that came about as a result of these contrary tectonic actions also significantly affects weather patterns. The physical geography of the State of Morelos puts it in the biological transition zone between North and South America, between the Nearctic (Arctic and Temperate) zone (North America and Greenland), and the Neotropical (south of Tropic of Cancer) zone (Mexico, Central and South America). It's no wonder that UNESCO has recognized Mexico as one of the world's most biologically diverse regions.

On top of that, the entire State of Morelos is drained by the Balsas River, which at 771 kilometers (479 miles) is one of Mexico's longer rivers. Maize (corn) developed along the Balsas River some 9,000 years ago, which is also about when farming began in other key global regions: the Fertile Crescent, northern and southern China, Africa's Sahel, New Guinea and parts of India.

The region's biodiversity gave rise to an abundance of plants with medicinal properties, so it's not surprising that the Tepozteco territory was known as the land of witches and healers. Certainly, the ancients were recognized for having accumulated great experience and knowledge in the treatment of illnesses.

It's at moments like this that we take deep breaths and pause to reflect on the depth and complexity of Mexico's history. 

Tepoztlán: Small Town With a Big Past

If Mexico's complex geography provided conditions that permitted cultivation of maize and many other plant foods, then a better supply of food—including surpluses—led to development of what's commonly called Mesoamerican civilization. When the Spanish arrived, they encountered a true civilization—complex, hierarchically organized in both cities and agricultural communities—, whose rulers were capable of exerting their power and influence over long distances.

It was somewhat mind-boggling to discover that the history of the little pueblo of Tepoztlán encapsulates the primary elements of Mexico's larger history.

Note: Both this section and the subsequent one (Colonial Period) have been excerpted and translated from several Mexican sources. Care was taken to preserve the vocabulary and tone of the original Spanish texts.

Before the Spanish Arrived

In Náhuatl, Tepoztlán means "Place of the Copper Hatchet." It isn't known who first inhabited the lands of what today is the town of Tepoztlán. Pottery found in the municipality suggest the Middle Archaic culture, which thrived around 1,500 BCE.

Different gods were venerated in Tepoztlán, among them Tlaloc, god of rain, and Ehécatl, god of wind. But the principal god was Ome Tochtli (Two Rabbit), god of pulque (nectar of the maguey cactus) associated with vegetative fertility and bountiful harvests. On the summit of the Tlahuiltepetl hill are ancient ruins that the people refer to as the "Casa del Tepozteco," or the place consecrated to the god Ome Tochtli, "Two Rabbit" in Náhuatl.

Detail: Mural at Tepoztlán Depicting Two-Rabbit, Ome Tochtli.

Each hill had a different name according to the god who inhabited it. Thus the hill of Tepoztlán was also called Tepoztécatl. According to tradition, pilgrims from as far away as Guatemala came to worship Ome Tochtli (sometimes spelled Ometochtli).

Archaeological findings from a later period indicate that as the Xochicalco, Toltec and Chichimeca cultures developed, one of the most important personages to emerge was Ce Acatl ("A Reed"). Born in Tepoztlán (actually, in nearby Amatlán), Ce Acatl lived there until he was a teenager. Local tradition credits his extraordinary nature to his origins in Tepoztlán. Ce Acatl spent his youth in Xochicalco where he joined the cult of the feathered serpent.

The Toltecs made Ce Acatl their supreme chief in Tula, their capital, and he lived there for many years. Given the title of Topiltzin, our prince, his 'magnificent genius' found expression in the arts and sciences. Finally falling victim to temptation and envy, Ce Acatl took refuge with some followers in Cholula, Puebla. From there he left for the Gulf Coast and died in Coatzacoalcos (in the place where the serpent died).

After his death, Ce Acatl came to be regarded as a god. His influence on later cultures was enormous, then he was called Quetzalcóatl, the unmatched culture hero: "Ce Acatl Tolpiltzin Quetzalcóatl."

In 1438 Tepoztlán was conquered by the Mexicas (Meh-SHE-cahs), who sought to strengthen their authority over the Tepozteco people by ordering that a stone plaque in honor of their eighth ruler, Ahuizotl, be embedded in the wall of the temple.

In the Tepozteco some remaining buildings support this historic relationship. On a relief of the pyramid is a plaque embedded in a wall with the representation of Ahuitzotl and the date 1502, which marks the end of Ahuizotl's reign. It is likely that this date also marks the pyramid's construction.

Between 1438 and the arrival of the Spanish, Tepoztlán was a tributary pueblo of the Mexicas. As did other centers in the region, Tepoztlán paid tribute in the form of products of paper de amate (fig), grand blankets, fine cotton clothing for men and women, loincloths, war regalia (arms and insignia decorated with rich feathers), decorated small bowls, corn and beans.

Colonial Period

As persons of European descent, it is difficult for us to fathom Mexico's historical and cultural depth, but the history of Tepoztlán, rich in its detailed commemoration of the past, somehow makes the connection easier.

Carlos Pellicer (1897-1977), writer, poet, musician, sets the emotional context:

"We will never be completely Mexicans until we become familiar with the marvelous art of our indigenous ancestors, in order to love and admire it."

Mural of Seeds Created for Tepoztlán Fall Fiesta: Battle Against the Spanish

In 1519 the Spanish arrived in the territory of what is today Mexico. In 1521, in just a few hours, the barbarian (sic) troops commanded by Hernán Cortés, burned Tepoztlán. Of that day Bernal Díaz del Castillo, the conquistador who accompanied Cortés and chronicled the conquest, wrote:

"One day early in the morning, we left for Cuernavaca and found bands of Mexica warriors that had left that pueblo. The [Spanish] horsemen followed them for more than a league and a half [27 kilometers; 16 miles] in order to surround them in another large town called Tepoztlán. 

"Here they had very good Indians and plunder. Three or four times Cortés summoned the chiefs to come in peace, but he warned that if they didn't come he would burn the pueblo. The answer was that they did not want to come. So to put fear in the other pueblos, Cortés set fire to half the houses."

In the first years after the military conquest, the people were served by Brothers of Oaxtepec and Yautepec. In 1559 the Spanish Viceroy Luis de Velasco authorized establishment of the Dominican Order to convert the inhabitants. The mission was entrusted to Brother Domingo de la Función, who knocked down the stone representation of the god Ome Tochtli.

Brother Domingo was also given the task of building the convent complex. Begun in 1570, construction of the Convent of Tepoztlán was completed in 1580. Construction of the church was begun in 1580 and completed in 1588.

Taking Stock

So here we sit ... quietly resting in a former Dominican Convent, its architecture the very essence of tranquillity. But we're aware that this tranquillity was built four hundred years ago on top of the violent destruction of the pueblo of Tepoztlán.

From where we sit, El Tepozteco hill is clearly visible. Just outside our line of sight are the ruins of the ancient pyramid, abode of the god Ome Tochtli, Two-Rabbit, but we know the pyramid is visible from the adjoining room—should we choose, there's even a telescope for getting a closer view of the pyramid.

So here we are ... Original Peoples, Colonial Mexico, Today's Mexico and a couple of foreigners ... resting together in one place.

El Tepozteco Pyramid, Tepoztlán (Photo: Guía Morelos)

Afterword

I find myself reflecting on the pueblo's fiestas ... and somehow I end up back where I concluded the first post on Tepoztlán. The passage seems equally applicable here:

Lest there be any doubt about the ambivalence of Tepoztlán's current inhabitants toward the Spanish invasion ... during the pueblo's traditional fall festival, the people of Tepoztlán commemorate the ceremony of the baptism and marriage of the Tepozteco in order to remember the reason for converting from the polytheistic religion to the Catholic rite. 

The re-enactment is performed in Náhuatl, the language of the Aztecs, which is also translated into Spanish, the language of the invasores (invaders), whose soldiers brandished the Sword and whose priests carried the Cross. In this way, the moment in Tepoztlán when allies of Lord Cuauhnáhuac of nearby Cuernavaca challenged the Tepozteco is kept alive. 

Dating to about 1850 CE, the tradition is maintained with dances representing the lords of Yautepec, Oaxtepec, Tlayacapan and Tepoztlán. After the dances, the people then set off for the central plaza ... back to today's world.

Still Curious?

Videos available via UTube:

• UTube (27 sec): Good view across Valley of Tepoztlán showing the massifs, independent mountains, that were thrust upward by vertical tectonic forces;
• UTube (16:00 min) Chinelos Part I: Excellent 3-4 min opening segment with views of the mountain ranges accompanied by traditional Mexican music; views through car's front windshield of ride into to town. I don't know what comes next; I've never watched it to the end because an inappropriate mix of triumphal (Wagner, Beethoven) European music puts me off.

Related Jenny's Posts:

• Geography: Ground of Mexico's Culture and History;
• The Sacred Valley of Tepoztlán is the first post about our visit;
• The Enduring Power of Mexico's Natural Forces focuses on Ehécatl, god of wind;
• Teotihuacán IV: Temple of Quetzalcóatl discusses Tlaloc, god of rain, and Quetzalcóatl, god of wind, as essential forces for survival of and civic order in the original communities;
• Quetzalcóatl at Xochicalco and other symbolism;
• El Tajin II: On Gods, Ants and the Hill of Plenty relates a legend explicitly featuring Ce Acatl Tolpiltzin Quetzalcóatl--gotta love it when pieces of the cultural puzzle come together;
• ex-Convento Churubusco I - Daily Life discusses Persian influence on Spanish architecture by way of the North African Moors.

Source Texts (Spanish unless otherwise noted):

• Tepoztlán, Morelos;
• Enciclopedia de los municipios y delegaciones de México: Tepoztlán, Estado de Morelos;
• Guía Morelos: Pirámide de El Tepozteco;
• El Tepozteco (English Wikipedia);
• History Buffs: See also Triple Alliance (English Wikipedia).