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.

Mexico's Volcanoes & Mesoamerican Mythology

     Volcanoes are impressive as awe-inspiring outbursts of the powers of nature. They arouse wonderment by their majesty, and they excite terror because of their devastation. 
     But once their activity has subsided, they leave behind as souvenirs fascinating rock formations, enchanting lakes, refreshing springs, healing waters, playful geysers, delightful waterfalls, sylvan mountain scenery, and often majestic snow-covered peaks. 

     The behavior of human beings, individuals or groups, sometimes resembles volcanoes' destructive activity and subsequent return to normal. 

Esperanza Yarza Carreón, Los Volcanes de Mexico (1948)

Professor of Arts and Letters
National Autonomous University of Mexico 

A distinguishing feature of Mexico's geography, the Volcanic Axis belts the country's mid-section (red shading). The Black Triangles (West to East) identify Mexico's largest volcanoes:

• Colima (active);
• Popocatépetl (active), linked by a mountain ridge to
• Iztaccíhuatl (dormant);
• La Malinche (dormant for 3,100 years); and
• Pico de Orizaba (active).

Mexico's Volcanic Axis with Four Largest Volcanoes:
Colima, Popocatépetl, Iztaccíhuatl, La Malinche, Pico de Orizaba

Stratovolcano (aka Continental-Margin)

Stratovolcanoes occur when one plate slides below another—a process known as subduction. A well-known example is the Pacific plate, which is sliding under the North American plate. These violently erupting volcanoes are characterized by long repose ('inactive' periods) between eruptions.

Popocatépetl is a stratovolcano. Effusive activity between 3,600 and 1,200 years ago (1600 BCE and 800 CE) produced Popocatépetl's present cone. Significant Vesuvius-like (plinian) eruptions occurred about 1,200 and 1,000 years ago (800 and 1000 CE), a time period concurrent with human habitation.

In 1993, following a fifty-year period of 'repose' during most of the 20th century, Popocatépetl again became an active volcano leading up to its eruption in 1994. Located about 70 km. (43 miles) from the center of Mexico City, the volcano with its smoking plume is easily visible on clear days from our front windows and small balcony.

Sunrise on Popocatépetl (Smoking Mountain in Nahuatl) with its north glacier
Photographed from our balcony (2011)

Another volcano of this type is El Chichón, which sits on the Chiapanecan Volcanic Arc that runs through Chiapas, land of Maya civilization. This geologic zone is thought to be the result of the subduction of the Tehuantepec Ridge, an undersea ridge that lies on the Cocos Plate off the Pacific coast of Mexico.

When El Chichón erupted in 1982 (March 29, April 3, 4), it killed about 2,000 people living on nearby slope. Explosive eruptions of magma (a mixture of molten rock, volatiles and solids) were accompanied by pyroclastic flows (superheated gases flowing about 450 mph).

Monogenetic Cinder Cone Volcanoes

These smaller volcanoes tend to form and erupt where there has been no previous volcanic activity. Cinder cone volcanoes erupt once within a volcanic field, then the activity shifts to a new location within the field giving rise to a subsequent eruption in the new location at a later time.

The activity of Paricutín in Michoacán, for example, is well-documented. A similar eruption in the same volcanic field occurred years before about 128 km. (80 miles) from Paricutín.

Paricutin's eruption in 1943 was anticipated by hundreds of earthquakes that occurred in the preceding two-week period. In one memorable 24-hour period, two hundred earthquakes were recorded. Once eruptions began, they continued for nine years. The effects were devastating: approximately 3,600 people were forced to move out of the region. But that wasn't the full extent of the impact.

Ash fall caused mountain slopes to become steeper, thus greatly accelerating soil erosion. As streams became clogged with ash, their carrying power increased and caused flooding. During the nine years of active eruption, crop cultivation was impossible at distances up to 35 km. (22 miles), although farmers who were slightly farther away reported improved crop yields during the years when ash fell lightly on their fields.

Mexico's Volcanic Axis "...abounds with volcanoes of the cinder cone type." The volcanic fields of northern Michoacán and southern Guanajuato are among the largest cinder cone fields in the world.

Click here for GoogleMap showing the string of cinder cone volcanoes running East-West across Mexico City's southern border.

What Happens When a Volcano Erupts

In 1990 the Geological Institute of the Autonomous University of Mexico published a report by volcanologist Stephen Nelson. Advocating increased scientific monitoring of Mexico's volcanoes, Nelson described in this paper the eruptive behavior of Mexican volcanoes and cited examples. I have added photographs to illustrate Nelson's description.

Eruptions are preceded by earthquakes and subterranean noises starting several months before the eruptions themselves (Popocatépetl, El Chichón, Colima). 

Popocatépetl blows his top - Ash Eruption (1994)
Notice the ratio of plume to mountain, which itself rises about
10,000 ft. above its prominence (base); then compare this plume to the
ratio of plume to mountain in the 2011 photo (above).

Volcanic eruptions are best considered as eruptive episodes made up of several eruptions. Eruptive episodes may last for days (El Chichón), or years (Paricutin).

Long repose (inactive) times between eruptions usually result in extremely violent activity when dormant volcanoes reawaken (Popocatépetl, El Chichón). 

Volcanoes that erupt violently can affect areas at long distances (Toluca, Orizaba). Ash falls (eruptions) usually accompany eruptions that produce lava flows (Xitle). 

Ash Eruption, El Chichón (1982)

Lava Crater at El Chichón (1982)

Finally, nearly all types of volcanic eruptions cause changes in existing drainage that may result in flooding even of areas at great distances from the actual intense volcanic activity (Paricutin, El Chichón). 

Mythology Arises Where Man Meets the Forces of Nature

We have to wonder how Mexico's early peoples explained these episodes of violence in their mythology, or worldview. An earlier post describes the ritual activity undertaken at Cuicuilco, an early agrarian community buried in lava ash when nearby Xitle erupted.

Perhaps a clue is to be found in the essential duality (life/death; creation/destruction; hot/cold; peace/war) that suffused the Mesoamerican Cosmovision (Worldview).

In the quotation introducing this post, Dr. Yarza characterizes volcanoes by underscoring their inherent duality: Volcanoes are capable of arousing in the thoughts and feelings of their beholders a sense of "wonderment for their majesty" and "terror in their devastation".

Popocatépetl in Snow-Capped Majesty of Popocatéptel
Photo: William Melson, 1968 (Smithsonian Institution)

Popocatépetl spewing Lava-Fire

A profound recognition of duality as an essential component of reality remains a powerful theme in Mexican culture. To this end, Professor Yarza invites us to focus not solely on the destructive aspects of volcanoes, but to recognize the creative 'souvenirs' left behind destructive volcanic episodes.

The adjectives Professor Yarza chooses to describe these volcanic souvenirs conveys their essential meaning:

"...fascinating rock formations, enchanting lakes, refreshing springs, healing waters, playful geysers, delightful waterfalls, sylvan mountain scenery, and ... majestic snow-covered peaks."

It is not possible for me to cite Yarza's words without hearing their echo in the words of an indigenous friend. In a discussion of increasing cartel activity apparent in the countryside surrounding Pátzcuaro, my friend matter-of-factly characterized the activity as el desorden, the disorder. Unspoken is the implicit duality:

Orden/Desorden, Order/Disorder, Creation/Destruction, Dormant/Active.

Lest I convey the impression that volcanic images are meaningful only to indigenous peoples, let me relate a similar conversation with a Mexican acquaintance de arriba (educated, upper class). During another discussion of cartel activity around Pátzcuaro, she observed,

"Most of the time it is quiet, but every once in awhile there are isolated, violent episodes."

I responded by likening the activity to the volcanic field around Paricutín:

"...most of the time it is quiet, but then a volcano erupts in a new place...like Paricutín."   

Her quick, surprised smile said, "Oh, I hadn't realized ... Jenny gets it."

A web site (scroll down) dedicated to descriptions, photos and even videos of many of Mexico's volcanoes includes a short (27 sec.) video of Popocatépetl's 1994 eruption. Struck by the sound of the eruption, I found myself asking,

"What might early peoples have made of such a ferocious display?"

One obvious explanation is that early peoples were forced to recognize both the possibilities and dangers posed by their natural environment. The rise of Mesoamerican civilization and the purpose of its mythology can be understood as pragmatic and ritualistic communal efforts to benefit from the potentials of this environment while seeking to influence and thereby protect themselves from the risks (earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, droughts, floods).

In this sense, it would have made sense for common people and rulers alike to regard a volcanic eruption as an expression of their gods' rage. Conversely, a peaceful time between eruptive episodes might appear to constitute evidence that rulers and common people alike were acting in harmony with the requirements of their spiritually charged countryside. In fact, the value of maintaining a harmonious relationship with the natural environment remains a primary cultural value in rural Mexico. 

If we are open to their message, Mexico's volcanoes can teach us a lot.

Día de los Muertos: Mesoamerican Roots

It is mid-October. Mexico's annual remembrance of the Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) is fast approaching. This is our fourth autumn in Mexico. It has taken me this long to gain even a basic understanding of the rich cultural context that gives meaning to this powerful annual ritual whose roots extend deep into the cultural soil of Mesoamerica.

So let's start at the beginning. We have written about the vital role of geography in Mexico's cultural and political development. Mexico's vulnerability to the vicissitudes of natural phenomena—volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, cyclones from the Pacific, hurricanes from the Caribbean and Atlantic, floods and drought—conveyed to the land's early inhabitants a keen awareness that they were not in charge; in fact, they were at the mercy of la naturalezza (forces of nature).

World of Spirit and World of Nature

In their book, The Masks of the Spirit, Roberta and Peter Markman describe the theology underlying the Mesoamerican world view:

"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" (p. 111).

Again the Markmans:

"Creation is seen in a series of organic metaphors that bring together seeds and bones, the sun and birth, man and plants in a complex web of meaning that suggests the equivalence of all life in the world of the spirit—a web of meaning that sustains the world of nature. Life in this world, the myth suggests, must be understood in terms of that underlying spirit." [emphasis added]

In Mesoamerican culture, then, the world of spirit, mysterious and inaccessible, was synonymous with the Life-Force, while the world of nature inevitably ended in death. Permanence was found in the world of spirit; the world of nature offered ceaseless change culminating in death, but a death that nonetheless offered passage to the world of spirit.

Addressing this theme, an Aztec poet wrote,

Let us consider things as lent to us, O friends,
only in passing are we here on earth,
tomorrow or the day after,
as Your heart desired, Giver of Life,
we shall go, my friends, to His home.

The conclusion is inescapable: beyond is the place where one lives. To the poet, permanence was to be found in the world of spirit; this world offered nothing more than flux ending in death.

The great question for Mesoamerican thinkers was to explain how the gap between the two worlds was to be bridged—put differently, how the existence of life and spirit was to be reconciled. Though life is transitory, humans nonetheless had to be enabled to participate in a ritual relationship with the source of the spirit (Life-Force) that animates human activity.

Their solution was a creator god who had no other characteristic than creativity itself. Located in the center of the world of spirit, he was known as Ometeotl (literally, two-god) by the Aztecs and Hunab Kuh by the Maya.

Rarely represented in figural form, Ometeotl played little part in ritual. But as the dual, bisexual god who ruled over the highest heaven of the Nahuatl cosmos, Ometeotl embodied a key Mesoamerican principle: duality, which recognizes the interdependence of opposites (light-dark, night-day, life-death, order-disorder, etc.). In China, this principle is yin and yang.

Creation Myths of Mesoamerica

The creation myths of various Mesoamerican people are more explicit tales that link this underlying duality to the creation of humans and the maintenance of their daily life. They are efforts to transform the vulnerability of their communities—completely dependent on the planting and harvesting of maíz, corn—into a secure realm.

Here's how the Maya document, the Popul Vuh, describes the creation of first man and first woman:

And so then they put into words
        the Creation,
        the shaping
        of our first mother and father.
Only yellow corn
        and white corn were their bodies.
Only food were the legs
And arms of man. 

                                     Popul Vuh

The myth makes explicit the dependence of human welfare on successful corn crops. First mother and father, in fact, are themselves made of corn. By extension, as sons and daughters of corn, so is the current community made of the corn they take in.

In the Aztec (Méxica) creation myth (Aztec Cosmovision: Stone of Five Suns), the gods must try five times to successfully produce beings capable of speech—and thus capable of praising the gods. In the creation of the Fifth Sun, Quetzalcóatl (Plumed Serpent) and a brother god descend to the Underworld to retrieve the bones of the previous population. Once back on the earth's surface, they grind the bones like corn and sprinkle the bone meal with their own blood to create today's people.

But even after the creation of people, there is still no sun. The gods meet in darkness gathered around a great fire at Teotihuacan. Two gods volunteer to throw themselves into the fire in order to create the Fifth Sun. One god is beautiful and haughty; the other is diseased and lowly.

The lowly god doesn't hesitate to throw himself upon the pyre when its heat is strongest but the haughty god hesitates, so the fire is less intense when he jumps. In this way, the lowly god who did not hesitate to sacrifice himself becomes the sun, and the haughty god who hesitated becomes the moon.

This sacrifice of the gods for humans at the moment of creation establishes the central idea that humans, reciprocally, are expected to sacrifice to the gods in order to assure the continued survival of the community.

The Cycle of the Sun: Birth, Death and Rebirth

Mesoamericans perceived the cosmos as centered on the human world, around which the sun revolved in its daily cycle, rising to the zenith of Heaven, then descending into night and the Underworld.

My favorite depiction of this spatial arrangement is at Toniná, in Chiapas, where the central staircase (horizontal stones at the center) represents the axis mundi connecting the Earthly plane (in the middle) to Heaven above and the Underworld below:

Spatial representation of Cosmovision at Toniná 

• Heaven (inverted pyramid above), with its thirteen levels; 
• Earthly plane (horizontal band at midpoint); and the 
• Underworld ( lower pyramid), with its nine levels. 

The god Ometéotl resided at the highest level of Heaven. The Underworld existed below the surface of the earth and was accessible through caves and springs.

The sun’s path was understood to begin at sunrise in the East and to pass through thirteen levels, or stations—six up to Heaven’s zenith at station seven, before descending through six more stations, for a total of thirteen. At sunset the sun begins its passage down through the nine levels, or stations, of the Underworld—passing its nadir at midnight before beginning its ascent of four more stations culminating in next day's dawn. Including the stations at the level of the earth—sunrise and sunset—the sun’s daily journey covered twenty-four stations, comparable to our own 24-hour day.

The passage of the sun through the Underworld was deemed perilous. Sunrise was not guaranteed—instead, ever present was the possibility that the sun might be devoured by the gods of the night and fail to rise. This primal fear led to various sacrificial rituals designed to assure the successful daily return of the sun. The essential duality—day-night; light-dark—is perhaps the most basic duality in Mesoamerican thought.

Passage of the Deceased through the Underworld

When humans died, it was believed that all but a few had to follow the night sun’s path and travel for a year through the Underworld before reuniting with the Life-Force in the Heavens. Warriors who died in battle and women who died in child birth went straight to Heaven.

The rituals of Dia de los Muertos address this Underworld journey of the deceased. Later posts relate preparations for Día de los Muertos and its ritual observances. For more information about books cited here, see Best Reads.

Mexico Fiesta: Candleária (Ground Hog's Day)

I thought you might enjoy of my description of Candleária (Candlemas for Catholics and Episcopalians), which celebrates the day 40 days after Christmas that Joseph and Mary, following Jewish Law, presented Jesus at the temple. It is also the Midpoint of Winter, known to us as Ground Hog's Day.

So here's what happened last week. Truth be known, we're pretty tired following two days of fiesta: Tuesday night we went to the Purhépecha Nuevo Fuego (New Fire). It used to be that Nuevo Fuego was celebrated only every 52 years, when the 260-day and 365-day Mesoamerican calendars coincided. This time was seen as a period of heightened danger that the sun might fail to return to bring life. All the fires in all the pueblos were extinguished and subsequently re-lit from torches lit by a single fire from Teotihuacan and carried by runners out to the pueblos.

Today Nuevo Fuego is celebrated in Pátzcuaro in conjunction with Candleária. Last year it was celebrated as part of the Mexican Bicentennial Independence and Centennial Revolution festivities.

Part of Nuevo Fuego involved groups from different pueblos presenting their pueblo's traditional indigenous dance. Reed is quite intent on 'decoding' their symbolism. Sadly, the people have somehow lost connection with the symbolic roots of many of their dance traditions. Last year, Reed asked several people about the meaning of the Dance of the Moors (who occupied and ruled the Iberian Peninsula for 800 years!). He was taken aback by their reply: "We don't know what the dances mean; we just do them."

The dances aren't "dance-y" as we know dance; the steps are very basic. Instead, the dances are image-dances that use costumes and ritual patterns to tell mythic and legendary themes and dynamics. One dance especially we suspect to be pre-Spanish. Dancers' capes were made of long grasses; headdresses were dried animal bones -- probably cattle. The dancers were barefoot; the only music was made by a variety of rhythms beat on a drum that was a hollowed-out tree log. Powerful to watch, clearly it is a hunting dance of some kind. But this kind of dance is exceptional.

More common are dances involving costumes that clearly hark back to the Spanish Colonial era -- soft skirts and blouses for the women; white campesino pants and soft shirts for the men. But again, each dance relates a timeless mythic or legendary truth.

Periodically, the announcer would take time to point out the position of the constellation Orion, whose position directly overhead marks the start of the New Year. This moment is celebrated in the Purhépecha area around Lake Pátzcuaro with the Fireball Game, which is more or less a 'field hockey' game, except that the 'ball' is made of pitch and is set aflame. Players whack away at this flaming ball with sticks. Gives a whole new meaning to the notion of 'playing with fire', doesn't it?

The Fireball Game with its indigenous roots has become a real national event -- quite competitive! My Spanish teacher (himself a devoted soccer player) told me with great relish that non-Purhépechas -- teenage boys and girls! -- have now formed teams, which are quite good! So good, in fact, that they even occasionally beat Purhépecha teams!

The next day we went out to Tócuaro, pueblo of our mask-maker friend Enedina. I want to write her story. Here's the short version: born to clearly talented parents, she learned maskmaking from her father and a crochet-like handstitch technique from her mother. Enedina made the rebozo that I gave to our daughter Kyla for her wedding.

Orphaned at age 10, her uncles subsequently robbed her and her brother of her deceased father's quite considerable landholdings. Married at 14, she had 14 children (she is now grandmother to 50 grandchildren). However, she is also the only female maskcarver in Mexico; her work is world-famous, and her masks have garnered the First Prize in numerous national contests. Her pieces are owned by international collectors and the Mexican elite, including former President Salinas de Gortari.

She decided early on that all of her children would go to school -- and over the protests of her husband, they did! Four of them are now teachers. Several sons are carvers. The daughters maintain the tradition of bordado (needlework).

It was pleasant to sit on her covered patio, peeking out through the bougambilia at the blue sky, punctuated by tall green pine trees reaching toward the sky, chatting with the grandchildren and their parents. Enedina had comida with us at a small table set up on the patio. But our purpose had been to attend the Purhépecha dances. I may have described them two years ago.

There are three devils -- Pecado (Sin), Luzbel (we know him as Lucifer, the Morning Star which was ominous in many cultures; in Mesoamerican times, ritual war was waged under the Morning Star aka Venus), Astucia (Cunning or Conniving). By tradition, the community chooses the dancers a year ahead. To be selected is a high honor; each dancer makes his/her own costume. Also by tradition, the Devils wear thick black velvet capes richly stitched with fantastic, diabolical figures.

One of Enedina's sons was the Pecado Devil this year; it had taken him an entire year to carve his mask. The extended family had also made his costume -- incredible handwork, a combination of embroidery and sequins worked on rich black velvet cape, gorgeous, fantastic representations of mythical diabolical creatures. But what blew me away were Pecado's gloves, which were made of feathers with long wood-carved, blood-red-painted fingernails. Wild!

Anyway, the three Devils (Diablos) confront St. Michael played by a little boy of about six years complete with halo and sword. The Diablos submit to St. Michael by laying down prone in front of him, and St. Michael symbolizes his dominance by standing with one foot placed firmly on the shoulder of one Devil. But the Devils'submission doesn't last long!

The Devils next rise up accompanied by a variety of masked characters depicting the full range of human sin. There were at least 20 characters in this part of the dance. Clearly, this is what the crowd comes to see. There was much high hilarity among the Mexicans as they recognized and cracked up not only over various "in" jokes about the infinite varieties of human foible and sin, but over the creativity and ingenuity of the dancers in depicting those same faces -- masks! -- of sin.

It reminded me of the Roman Emperor who advocated "Give them bread and circuses!" As sensitive and perceptive a critic as Octavio Paz has written that Mexicans have their fiestas in order to release pressure from their oppressive, largely powerless conditions. Paz's observation is undoubtedly at least partially true. But what is equally true is that Mexican fiestas are important celebrations of communal identity: “Fiestas remind the people of who they belong to, and of who belongs to them.”

What we know in the U.S. as individuality has at best a very light footprint in Mexico. Members of the pueblo are bound by ties of mutual obligation. The same is even more true at the family level where, again, members are bound to each other by mutual obligation. In a society whose social safety net is basic at best, it is these links of mutual obligation that support, regulate and regenerate everyday Mexican life.

In our view, it is these networks of mutual obligation that have enabled a remarkable social continuity across centuries of difficult Mexican history. Despite the arrival of the Spanish and the turmoil of the 19th century of struggle that defined the Mexican Revolution, and despite the disorder sown by today's ill-conceived 'war on drugs', life persists at the levels of family and pueblo. The fiestas are essential communal expressions and reaffirmations of those ties.

Meanwhile, back to the dance! Absolute, dissolute chaos seemingly reigns in the world, yet at one side of the stage -- in vivid contrast to the raucous antics of the diablitos -- are eight prepubescent youth in two rows: four girls dressed in white, complete with veils down their backs; four boys also dressed in white, each of the eight youngsters holding a pole (strongly reminiscent of May Poles) richly decorated with fruits and flowers.

These pre-teenagers perform a highly ritualized set of maneuvers (think Court Dancing of the Middle Ages) seemingly unperturbed by the ruckus all around them. It is absolutely wonderful -- clearly a fertility rite, but above all else ... ¡es muy mexicano! in its recognition and celebration of life's inherent Dualities: Good and Evil, Light and Dark, Winning and Losing, Order and Disorder, Life and Death, and many others.

It was an incredible experience. Quite remarkable. But after seven hours of speaking Spanish intensively, both of us arrived home absolutely exhausted ¡y también muy satisfechos y contentos! (and very satisfied and content).

Travel Journal: Guadalajara, Jalisco

Over the Fourth of July weekend, we traveled by bus to Guadalajara. It is the capital of Jalisco State (pronounced "Ha-lees-co"), which is northwest of Michoacán State, where we live.

Guadalajara was founded by the Spanish in the 1540's. At its core, Guadalajara is a colonial city. At the center is a cathedral surrounded by four plazas, one on each side. The whole is a grand space, created by a self-confident, world-conquering, world-creating Spanish empire. Some colonial buildings remain along the sides of the plaza squares.

Today, however, modern Guadalajara and surrounding municipalities make up Mexico's second largest urban center, inhabited by over four million people. The modern city has almost overwhelmed the colonial core, creating a conflicting experience. The spaciousness, solidity and balance of the colonial structures communicate security, calm, a sense of serenity. Some of the modern buildings try to reflect this solidity, but seem unimaginative and sterile. The rest are a hodge-podge of utilitarian commercial structures -- stores, offices, hotels. Many look tired and worn. Apparently, as with many US cities, life in Guadalajara has moved to the "suburbs."

Nevertheless, Jane and I found within this center, in some of the suburbs and in the countryside beyond, a series of wonderful manifestations of the eternal human creative dynamic. This dynamic always involves a tension between energy and order, structure and movement, permanence and change.

Classic Dance and Traditional Music in a Classic Setting

Our first experience of the dynamic of energy and order took place on our first night, at the Teatro Degollado (Dey-go-YAH-tho), a neo-classic temple to the arts, built in the 1860's, that faces the Cathedral across the largest of the plazas.

Entering through the grand portico of Greek columns, we walked into an equally Grand Lobby, then on into a classically European theater that is all sumptuous red and gold. Four balconies rise up to a mural-covered ceiling.

In this wonderful, traditional but lively space, we experienced an equally wonderful, enthusiastic performance of the very traditional ballet, Coppelia, performed by the energetic and traditionally well-trained students of the Ballet School of the Instituto de Cultura de Jalisco. Principal parts and major variations were danced by members of the Companía de Danza Classica de Jalisco, the professional company of Guadaljara. So ballet, in all its traditionally shaped and maintained vitality, is alive and well in Guadalajara...in a beautiful setting.

On our second night, we returned to the Teatro to hear a concert by the Jalisco Phiharmonic. Billed as a 'fusion concert', it featured the professional orchestra playing with a norteño ('northern') group, a Mexican musical style that combines guitars, a harp, an accordian and singing. The program was all traditional popular Mexican music, kind of a Boston Pops concert played, sung and enjoyed with alegría, soul-satisfying joy by performers and audience.

When the concert ended, the Mexican family sitting in front of us, in the first balcony, turned and asked us if we enjoyed it. We replied, "¡Nos encanta¡" "It enchants us." The father of the family then told us that his son was one of the performers--he was the chiflado, who whistled an entire song.

But it was not whistling. It sounded like a bird singing, almost like a flute. He produced the sound somewhere deep in his throat. At one point, the orchestra and guitarists who had been accompanying him fell silent. Putting aside the microphone, he filled the theater with his birdsong. The entire theater fell absolutely silent, we held our collective breath as we listened to this miraculous sound. When he finished his song, the  audience, us included, went absolutely wild.

The father described this as his son's don, his god-given talent. The father and the family thanked us profusely for enjoying their Mexican music. They shook our hands vigorously several times. Our thought was that Mexicans so often expect estadounidenses (USer's) to look down on their culture, that this family was expressing their gratitude that we valued what they had to give and had shared in it with alegría . We seemed to be the only gueritos, "pale-skins" in the audience.

Sanctuary for a Meditation on Violence

Our next experience of the dynamic tension of order and energy, structure and movement, permanence and change came with our visit to Las Cabañas. Built in 1810, just before the Mexican War of Independence, Las Cabañas was thus constructed at the tail end of the Spanish colonial era.

Constructed as a hogar or home for orphans and widows, today Las Cabañas is a state cultural center and musuem. It is in neo-classical, i.e., Romanesque revival, style, looking on the outside like a Roman temple. It is huge, with 106 rooms and 23 patios!

Colonial architecture creates an experience of serenity. It does so through a quiet, ordered rhythm of balanced proportions, repetition of simple elements and movement through alternating closed and open spaces. In its interior, Las Cabañas embodies the essence of this architectural style with neo-classical refinement. It is serene.

At the core of Las Cabañas is a chapel, a Romanesque sanctuary. In the 1930's, José Orozco, one of Mexico's leading muralists, was commissioned to paint murals on the walls and ceiling of this chapel to depict Mexico's turbulent history.

Framed in the stone vaulting of the chapel, the murals are stark and explosive in their energy, all in shades of gray, punctuated by blood red. It is difficult to imagine a more arresting contrast of serene order and violent chaos.

Finding the Center of the World: Guachimontones

On Saturday, the Fourth of July, we traveled by taxi west of Guadalajara to a Mesoamerican archeological site known as Guachimontones, 'the homeless mounds' as they have been dubbed by the locals. Excavated only in the last decade, the mounds are the remains of a society dating from between 300 B.C. to 300 A.D. They sit on a hill overlooking a huge valley.

In Mesoamerican civilization, as in Chinese and other primary civilizations, locating the center of one's world in relation to the four cardinal directions was crucial. This "axis mundi" established one's spiritual, psychological and physical orientation and, hence, sense of order and place in the world.

At this center one met one's gods and, thus, one's own identity. The center grounds the human world in the midst of the forces of the natural world and the cosmos. This is a theme that recurs time and again in the Mesoamerican Cosmovision. 

Guachimontones' organization is unique in the Americas and in the world. Centered around circular 'pyramids' that marked and maintained the center of the world for this culture, the site is relatively small and simple. But as one walks around and within its circles, the very size and simplicity of the space enables one to experience the fundamental dynamic of creating a centered, bounded and thus coherent communal space very much at rest in the midst of a vast natural one.

The Creation of Miniature Worlds: Artesanias of Tlaquepaque

Tlaquepaque (Tlah-kay-PAH-kay) is a city contiguous with Guadalajara known for its artesanías, i.e., crafts, especially pottery. We traveled there on Sunday. The many grand colonial houses of Tlaquepaque originally belonged to the Spanish ruling class. Now they are occupied by stores selling fine artesanias, upscale restaurants and museums.

We visited the Museo Regional de la Cerámica featuring displays of many styles of pottery. What struck us was how images of nature dominated the decoration. Here the energy of nature was transformed into miniature worlds of art by the creative organization of the artist.

¡Gracias, Guadalajara!

So, in three days we found in this huge, fragmented, worn but renewing city wonderful experiences of the creative tension in human life between energy and order, stability and movement, permanence and change. ¡Gracias, Guadalajara!


Still Curious?

Here's the link to Reed's Photo Album of Las Cabañas:   http://jreedbrun.xanga.com/albums/0540ae46301f32/