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. 

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.

12/12/12: Fiesta of the Virgin of Guadalupe

Today, 12 December 2012, is the Fiesta of the Virgin of Guadalupe, patron saint of Mexico—12/12/12.

Outside Mexico, this date—made up of the same three numbers 12-12-12—is touted for being the only day like it for a hundred years. But the numeric occurrence raises nary an eyebrow here. Clearly,"12/12/12" is a non-event when put up against the symbolic power of the Fiesta of the Virgin of Guadalupe.


Taxi Drivers Have Decorated this Shrine to the Virgin of Guadalupe on the Montezuma Cypress Tree just around the block from our apartment (Photo: Reed)

There is no way anyone in Mexico could possibly forget or ignore this day. For one thing, there are the cohetes—giant, rocket-like firecrackers that shoot five hundred feet or so into the air before exploding with a distinctive boom unsettling to the uninitiated—accompanied by a telltale puff of smoke.

Yesterday, the cohetes started going off at 6:00 AM. Usually, they signal the start of mañanitas, morning prayers, but a Mexican friend told us that those cohetes announced the arrival of peregrinos, pilgrims, walking along the Calzada Tlalpan on their way to the Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe.

Let me mention that the Calzada, which runs perhaps a quarter mile from our apartment, is built atop a causeway constructed by the Aztecs for southern access to their capital Tenochtitlán. The Spanish constructed the National Cathedral and National Palace (government offices) on the ruins of the ancient capital. These buildings now take up two sides of the gigantic Zócalo that is Mexico City's main plaza.

No Day for Ordinary Tasks

Reed just returned from running errands. In reply to my casual inquiry, "How'd it go?", he reported partial success. The ATM was accessible, but the bank was closed. Technically, today is a religious holiday in a secular state but this day is clearly much more than that.

So he decided to go get our clothes from the laundry, which is on the back side of our block. He returned laughing, "It's closed, too, but something wonderful happened. Wait'll you see what they've done at the Shrine to the Virgin."

With that, he picked up his camera and hurried out again. He returned a few minutes later, began uploading the photos he'd taken, and explained to me that the taxi drivers had covered the Shrine with flowers.

"Hmm," I muttered, "it's a good thing you didn't go to Migration today; it's probably closed." We exchange rueful glances. Reed is still trying to pick up his renewed non-immigrant, resident visa, which was 'approved' but not physically 'ready' when he made the trek last Monday.

Shall I mention the music blasting from a private fiesta somewhere on the block? It started modestly enough, but has now been building for a couple of hours. When it starts this early (5:00 PM), it usually stops by 10:00 PM, but we'll see....

Understanding the multi-layered, nuanced cultural complexity of the Virgin of Guadalupe calls for a bit of historical digging. Over the years, I've posted several articles on the Virgin of Guadalupe. You'll find them in the Still Curious? section at the end of this post.

Virgin's Deep Roots

In 1999, Pope John Paul II proclaimed this manifestation of the Virgin Mary in the Western Hemisphere to be Patroness of the Americas, Empress of Latin America, and Protectress of Unborn Children. However, at a more profound emotional level, the Virgin of Guadalupe is the beloved mother of all Mexicans.

Patricia Harrington sums up the historical process like this:

"The Aztecs ... had an elaborate, coherent symbolic system for making sense of their lives. When this was destroyed by the Spaniards, something new was needed to fill the void and make sense of New Spain ... the image of Guadalupe served that purpose."[40]

Our Lady of Guadalupe Appears in Spain

Hernán Cortés, the Spaniard who overthrew the Aztec empire in 1521, was a native of Extremadura, Spain, home to Our Lady of Guadalupe. When Cortés arrived on the shores of what would become Mexico in the 16th century, the Extremadura Guadalupe, a statue of the Virgin said to be carved by Saint Luke the Evangelist, was already a Spanish national icon.

Our Lady of Guadalupe, Extremadura, Spain

At the beginning of the 14th century, the Virgin appeared to a humble shepherd and ordered him to dig at the site where she appeared to him. Digging as she had ordered, he found her statue.

The recovered Virgin then miraculously helped to expel the Moors from Spain, and her small shrine evolved into the great Guadalupe monastery. One of the more remarkable attributes of the Guadalupe of Extremadura is that she is dark-skinned, like the original peoples of the Americas. Thus she became the perfect icon for the missionaries who followed Cortés to convert the original peoples of Mexico to Christianity.

Virgin of Guadalupe Appears in New Spain

According to the traditional account, the Virgin herself chose the name of Guadalupe when she appeared to the peasant Juan Diego on a hill outside Mexico City in 1531, ten years after the fall of the Aztec empire. But according to secular history, in 1555 Bishop Alonso de Montúfar commissioned a Virgin of Guadalupe from a native artist, who gave her the dark skin that his own people shared with the famous Extremadura Virgin.

Whatever the connection between the Mexican Virgin and her older Spanish namesake, the fused iconography of the Virgin and the indigenous Nahua goddess Tonantzin provided a way for 16th-century Spanish missionaries to gain converts among the indigenous peoples, while simultaneously allowing the 16th century indigenous peoples to continue the practice of their native religion.

Virgin of Guadalupe: Mother of Mexico

The Virgin of Guadalupe continues to be a mixture of the cultures that have blended to form Mexico, both racially and religiously. She is recognized as "the first mestiza" (mixed racial heritage, Spanish and indigenous), or "the first Mexican" who "brought together people of distinct cultural heritages, while at the same time affirming their distinctness."

The Mexican novelist Carlos Fuentes once observed that "you cannot truly be considered a Mexican unless you believe in the Virgin of Guadalupe." In 1974 Nobel Literature laureate Octavio Paz wrote that "after more than two centuries of [political] experiments, the Mexican people have faith only in the Virgin of Guadalupe and the National Lottery."

What is indisputable is the vitality of this national, religious symbol throughout the Americas. A young woman from Central America cutting my hair in Chicago was visibly moved when I mentioned that we live in Mexico. "Oh, México," she murmured in awed tones, "México is very special."

And so it is.

Still Curious?

Related Jenny's posts:

• Virgin of Guadalupe, Mother of Mexico is our exploration of a shrine to the Virgin on a giant Moctezuma Cypress that's just around the block from us; it's the shrine the taxi drivers decorated today;
• Méxica (Aztec) Dancers at the Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe recounts our tour of the Basilica, which almost overwhelmed us with its cultural complexity;
• Fiesta de la Virgen de Guadalupe relates our experiences last year (2011) in Mexico City on the day of the Virgin's Fiesta day;
• Mexican Traditions: Peregrinación (Pilgrimages) describes the ancient and traditional role of pilgrimage in Mesoamerican culture and how it came to be shaped by Catholicism;
• Mexican Culture: Cohetes (Firecrackers or Rockets) tells about our experiences of cohetes being set off during High Mass in a Purhépecha community and our discovery of their surprising significance.

This post is indebted to the Wikipedia entry for the Our Lady of Guadalupe, which is exceptionally well written and documented.

Mexico's Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) Blends Indigenous, Spanish Traditions

Paying respects on November 1 at the Panteón (Cemetery) 
with flowers and other offerings, Mixquic, Mexico City
Photo: Elizabeth Ruíz/Cuartoscuro

Last night I reread Jenny's previous Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) posts. I didn't see how I could improve on them. Their descriptions of the roots of the annual celebration deep in the soil of the Mesoamerican cosmovision is compelling.

But this morning I came upon this article in Milenio, a Mexican newspaper. I've translated it for Jenny's English-language readers. Links to the three original Jenny's posts are provided in Still Curious? (scroll down).

Sand painting for Día de los Muertos in Oaxaca. Photo: Internet

Milenio: November 1, Mexico • The legacy of the pre-Hispanic Mesoamerican and Catholic traditions converge in Mexico on the Day of the Dead, a festival of the dead, whose rituals are authentic living testimony to this cultural fusion.

In an interview, Andrés Merino, a member of the Institute of Anthropological Research National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM), observed:

"The origins of the celebration of the Day of the Dead in Mexico predate the arrival of the Spanish (...), but are fused with the medieval Catholic tradition."

Original peoples in South Central Mexico and North Central America (Mesoamerica) are characterized as having "very elaborate forms of spirituality" linked to the harvest and structured around a cycle of four celebrations culminating with the "harvest festival" or "festival of the dead". Merino added:

"The dead play an important role in the entire agricultural cycle, their support is requested at critical moments, such as for arrival of the rains for growing corn. (...) They are the intermediaries with the gods of rain."

The festivities were presided over by the goddess Mictecacíhuatl, known as "Lady Death" (currently related to "Catrina", character created by the graphic artist José Guadalupe Posada [and made popular by Diego Rivera]) and her husband Mictlantecuhtli, Lord of Land of the Dead.

With the arrival of the Spanish, the harvest tradition was merged with Catholic medieval customs and modifications appeared in the preparation of offerings and altars—the ones seen today reflect this cultural fusion (syncreticism).

"The offerings are great symbolic, artistic expressions. There is an order in the way they are represented, and it is here where this tradition of combining the cultures appears," he said.

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 introduced by the Spanish] on altars, and in the use of candles and Christian concepts, such as "souls" to refer to the dead who return this one night in the year.

Family Altar, Pátzcuaro, Michoacán, to honor the Grandmother, who had died in the past year. Photo: Reed Brundage

The Mesoamerican origins, meanwhile, appear in the design of the altars that reproduce the cosmovisión ("worldview") unique to these cultures. The altars represent: the

• Underworld, where incensarios (censers burning copal) are placed; the 
• Midpoint [earthly level], where offerings [bread, fruit, water, salt, tequila, cerveza] are placed; and the 
• Upper level [heavens], with images and photographs of the dead.

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, and 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 the expert.

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. Merina believes this custom can confuse Day of the Dead with Halloween, a festival of Nordic tradition, which has been introduced into Mexican culture through the influence of television and the supermarkets.

"The Halloween influence has to do with the middle class that goes to the supermarkets, which reflect the influence of U.S. television. (...) But this is not the tradition in the traditional communities," he added.

In 2003 UNESCO declared The Day of the Dead to be an Intangible Heritage of Humanity. The celebration lasts for two days: November 1 is dedicated to the souls of children who have died and adults who have never married. In the predawn hours of that last day (November 2), Mexicans keep vigil in cemeteries for all their dead.

Still Curious?

Sensitive photos of Día de los Muertos vigils on Janitzio Island (Pátzcuaro, Michoacán) convey their beauty and simplicity, followed by photos of altars prepared in Oaxaca.

Related Jenny's Posts:

• Día de los Muertos: Mesoamerican Roots;
• Día de los Muertos: Preparations;
• Día de los Muertos: Ritual Observances;
• Day of the Dead Altars: Symbols.

Report of traditional Día de los Muertos customs in Andrés Mixquic a pueblo-mágico in the Delegación (Borough) of Tláhuac, Mexico City (Spanish only), and how they are slowly, sadly, changing.

Tlaxcala State: Cacaxtla Presents Cultural Puzzle

As an online magazine for the culturally curious, Jenny's Journal builds on our ongoing exploration of Mexico's multi-faceted, multi-leveled  culture. It helps that cultural puzzles fascinate us.

Cultural puzzles don't appear with a picture of the completed puzzle displayed on the box lid. Half the time, we don't realize we're working on a puzzle until it is more or less solved. Instead what we get are bits and pieces that seem out of place...facts and events that just don't quite seem to fit together...or, alternatively, tidbits that pique our curiosity and tease us to undertake additional investigation.

During our recent trip to Tlaxcala State, for example, our goal was to explore the world-class murals located at Cacaxtla (kah-KAHSH-tlah). However, on the way, yet another cultural puzzle presented itself. Why does the old title "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum...." come to mind?

For a number of reasons we decided not to drive in Mexico, relying instead on public transportation and taxis. With admirable frequency, our drivers have proved to be rich sources of cultural information. As our taxi neared the site and began its ascent up the side of the extinct volcano, the number of cars and walkers along the side of the road increased exponentially. Puzzle piece #1 had appeared: traffic jam.

Casually, our driver mentioned that our visit (September 29) coincided with the fiesta of the patron saint of the pueblo of San Miguel del Milagro (Saint Michael of the Miracle). The heavy traffic—think slowly creeping parking lot—suddenly made sense. Not much to do but settle back to enjoy the hustle, bustle of fiesta in Mexico.

Once we'd inched past a sharp turn that split off in a "Y" toward the parish church, traffic thinned noticeably. To our delight, the entrance to the Archaeological Zone was no more than another fifty yards (45 meters). Leaving car and driver, we began the trek toward the pyramid, which we could see about a kilometer away.

While we were walking back to the entrance after touring the pyramid, more pieces of the cultural puzzle appeared. We came upon two young men, sitting on a small boulder at the side of the road. We greeted them with the usual greeting, Buenas tardes. Moments later, a procession came into view.

Procession of San Miguel del Milagro
on its way to the top of the Cacaxtla Pyramid.
Photo: Reed (click to enlarge)

Behind us, one of the young men who'd been seated on the boulder rose and blew on a conch shell he'd  taken out of his gym bag. At the sound of that ages old plaintive call, the cultural light bulb came on.

The conch shell is an ancient Mesoamerican
instrument used during religious ceremonies to
summon both the people and their gods.

Reed reminded us that September 21 is the Autumnal Equinox. The puzzle quickened. It struck us that a connection between the fiesta of San Miguel del Milagro, the Equinox, and the Mesoamerican pyramids was highly probable, but unearthing the connection required additional research.

When we got home, we got on the Internet and discovered via Wikipedia that September 29 is the day the sun appears to rise directly behind the crater of the Malinche volcano as seen from both the Xochitécatl and Cacaxtla pyramids. Significantly, the ancient peoples had named their sacred volcano to the East, Matlacuéitl. She was wife of Tlaloc (god of rain), Matlauéitl was the goddess of vegetation.

Tlaxcala, this land along the banks of the Atoyac (Balsas) River, is one of the first maize-growing regions in Mexico. Undoubtedly, it was the river valley's agricultural productivity that prompted construction of ceremonial centers first at Xochitécatl, then at Cacaxtla. 

The older pyramid at Xochitécatl (Pyramid of the Flowers) was oriented in such a way that on September 29, from the pyramid's highest level, the sun would be observed to rise directly from the crater of the Matlacuéitl volcano; that is, from the mouth of the goddess of vegetation.

GoogleEarth view looking East to Malinche (Matlacuéitl).
Xochitécatl is in the foreground; Cacaxtla is next in a
straight line to Malinche's crater. The pueblo of
San Miguel del Milagro is just past Cacaxtla.
Image: GoogleEarth via Reed (click to enlarge)

Built at a later date, the Cacaxtla Pyramid was nonetheless also sited due East from Xochitécatl along the same volcanic block. Today a footpath winds across open land, inviting passage between the two pyramids.

Cacaxtla Pyramid viewed from the highest level of the
Xochitécatl Pyramid. The shed roof covers Cacaxtla's
entire platform—essential protection for the murals and
other architectural features.
Note agricultural fields and footpath in the foreground;
pueblo of San Miguel de Milagro in the background.
Photo: Wikipedia

Like the older pyramid, the pyramid at Cacaxtla commands a view of the sun rising from the crater of the sacred volcano to the East. As they passed us, people in the procession told us they were on their way to the top of Cacaxtla Pyramid, thus providing us with another essential piece of the puzzle.

Seasonal pilgrimage to sacred natural sites is an ancient Mesoamerican tradition. When the Spanish arrived, Spanish Catholic priests did not challenge traditional practices. Instead, they tirelessly and ingeniously sought ways to overlay ancient sacred sites with Christian rites and rituals.

One way was to build Christian churches on ancient sites—such as the Christian church that sits atop the Great Pyramid at Cholula.

Church atop Great Pyramid at Cholula.
From a distance, the pyramid looks like a hill,
but it was constructed entirely by hand.
The Great Pyramid at Cholula was visible from
Cacaxtla looking to the South.
Photo: Wikipedia

At Cacaxtla, the pueblo's parish church of Saint Michael of the Miracle was constructed less than two kilometers from the Pyramid; moreover, the feast day of the pueblo's patron saint was matched to the day on which early peoples observed the sunrise over Malinche, the sacred volcano. 

As we listened to the plaintive call of the conch shell that has sounded for millenia across these lands, we were once again reminded that the ancient practices have not died. Not at all.

Still Curious?

Related posts from Jenny's Journal:

• Tlaxcala State: Xochitécatl - "Kingdom of the Flowers";
• Travel Journal: A Most Mexican Day in Veracruz describes the adventure we embarked on as we set out in a taxi to visit waterfalls just outside Papantla, Veracruz;
• Mexican Traditions: Pilgrimage (Peregrinación) describes the syncretistic layering of Catholic Christian religious rites over ancient Mesoamerican sacred practices. 

Wikipipedia entry on Cacaxtla.

Mexico Culture: Convents, Legends and Moles!

Reed and I leave tomorrow morning for a weekend in Pátzcuaro, but I want to publish a new post before we depart. This week I had the pleasure of responding to an inquiry from a friend in Australia about the preparation of mole—Oaxaca's acclaimed moles and the incomparable mole poblano from nearby Puebla (poblano is the adjectival form of Puebla; e.g., a person from Puebla is a poblano).

I dug around a bit and found a delightful account in Wikipedia of the legendary origins of mole...in convents! That got me thinking. Recently, Reed and I spent a magical four days in Puebla. We stayed, where else, but in a meticulously restored sixteenth century convent.

Interior patio, one of several, at the exConvento that is now Camino Real Hotel in Puebla.  Photo: Reed

In Spanish, the word convento describes the place where a community of religious live together, whether monjas (sisters, or nuns), frailes (brothers, in monastic orders), or retired priests. It seems that convents are among the best examples of colonial architecture. The architecture at our ex-convent/hotel was no exception.

This outdoor foyer retains a remarkable example of the frescoes that once covered these walls. Left click to enlarge the photo—it's worth it to see fresco details and the tile work on the vaulted ceiling!  Photo: Reed

Camino Real Hotel / A Convent's Legends

One morning I went exploring. In my wandering, I came upon a man who, from his behavior and official 'tag', might have been the hotel's manager. When I told him how beautiful we found the hotel, he brightened before responding,

"It has been lovingly, painstakingly restored. You know," he added, "when they began the early restoration, they found a tunnel to the Cathedral." 

"A tunnel?" I asked, puzzled, "do you mean for the monjas to get to the Cathedral?"   

 "No," he replied, with a mischievous grin, "it was for the priests to get to the convent. They also found a room filled with things for babies and children."  

We shared a chuckle before this busy man returned to his official duties. Is it true?  Who knows! I do know that legends such as this one abound in Mexico, often the result of the delightful Mexican sense of 'play'.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

Octavio Paz's sensitively insightful biography of the brilliant seventeenth century nun—whose poetry continues to move contemporary readers—is also a powerful introduction to the Spanish colonial period. Sor Juana was a talented theologian who clashed with religious authority. She is widely recognized as the first feminist in the Western Hemisphere. Born out of wedlock to Spanish parents, she was without the resources needed to maintain the intellectual life she craved. Early on, she ruled out marriage and children, so her best option was to enter a convent.

Now I don't know about you, but I've always assumed that being in a convent meant an austere lifestyle lived from a barren cell. But that is apparently not exactly how it worked. Paz describes Sor Juana's two-story house, her servant, her extensive library, and the tertulias she presided over in the convent's public salon. Regular informal social gatherings where issues of common interest are discussed, Sor Juana's tertulias were attended by the intellectual elite of Nueva España.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (1651-1695), in her Library.

But don't get me wrong. As a monastic, Sor Juana was also obligated to observe the Liturgy of the Hours—prayers conducted roughly every three hours around the clock, including 9:00 PM, midnight, 3:00 AM and 6:00 AM. She also served more than once as the convent's treasurer.

As Paz points out, along with the universities of Nueva España, the convents were the gathering place for the society's religious, intellectual and academic elites.

Legendary Mole

So now we arrive at mole, sauce or even 'concoction'. A couple of years ago, I read that the world's connoisseurs rate the world's cuisines as follows:  first place is held by Szechuan Province of China, for the subtlety and sophistication of its sauces; second place goes to Oaxaca, Mexico, for the variety, subtlety and sophistication of its famed seven moles (black, red, yellow, colorado/golden, green, almendrado/almond, and pipián/pumpkin seed); third place is occupied by France. So much for the prowess of Western European culinary arts on the world stage!

Mole poblano is served with red rice, tortillas, or even white bread—the latter reflects Spanish influence; Mexico's original people did not have wheat, only maíz (corn)!

Mole enjoys a storied history. For their noble lords, the Aztecs prepared a complex dish called mulli, meaning stew or mixture in Nahuatl. Early moles featured chocolate and  turkey meat (turkey mole). The true origins of mole are probably lost to time, but the following charming account is worth repeating (Source: Wikipedia).

One version puts the invention of mole poblano in the Convent of Santa Rosa in Puebla, capital of the state of Puebla (Mexico). Legend has it that a nun ground together different chiles and other seasonings in a metate, mortar, and used this herb mix for her mole.  It is worth mentioning that the original recipe for mole called for about a hundred ingredients!  

Mexican metate, mortar, still used today!
Photo: Reed 

Another version says that mole poblano was created in Puebla de los Angeles by Mother Andrea de la Asunción, Dominican nun of the convent of Santa Rosa, as part of a seventeenth century celebration. 

A third legend has it that, when notified of an impending visit to their diocese by Juan de Palafox, Viceroy of New Spain and Archbishop of Puebla, a poblano monastery invited the Viceroy/Archbishop to a banquet, to be prepared in his honor by chefs of the religious community. The head chef was Brother Pascual.  

On the day of the banquet, Brother Pascal was exceedingly nervous. In his anxiety, he began berating his helpers for the disorder that reigned in the kitchen. Seeking to safeguard the prepared ingredients in the pantry, Brother Pascual piled them on a tray. In his haste, he tripped right in front of the pot where succulent turkeys were nearly ready. Into the pot tumbled the cut-up chilies, chopped chocolate and the most varied spices, 'spoiling' the food to be offered to the Viceroy. 

Such was the anguish of Fray Pascual that he began to pray "with all his faith" when he was informed that the guests were seated at the table. Later he could not believe his ears when everyone praised his "rough" dish.  

What is certain, however, is that mole is not a product of chance, but instead the result of a  longstanding culinary and cultural process that originated in prehispanic times and was perfected in Nueva España, when the rich indigenous cuisine came into contact with Asian and European ingredients and cooking techniques.

I've written a lot about religious synchretism, but the history of mole opens up a whole new level of investigation for the culturally curious!

Still Curious?

Here's the web site for the Camino Real Hotel in Centro Puebla.

Here's the English Wikipedia entry for Mole (sauce).

Here's an exceptional description of the history of mole, which includes versions of the legends recounted above (whew!) and ends up by quoting the renowned expert, Michael D. Coe.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, o las trampas de la fé (English: Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, or the Traps of Faith) by Octavio Paz. An insightful introduction to the life and times of a brilliant, amazing woman.

Mexico Traditions: Pastorelas

When we lived in Pátzcuaro, Reed volunteered  twice a week playing board games with the boys at the Casa Hogar, a residence home for boys whose families are unable to feed them. At Christmas the first year, he returned home, eyes twinkling with sheer delight, to tell me about the pastorela navideño that the boys had put on.

One performance stood out. The boy played his role with great gusto. "What was his role?" I asked innocently. Luzbel, Lucifer, the Devil.  "What?" I asked intrigued, "There was a devil in the Christmas play? I've never heard of such a thing!"

At the time, I was intrigued, but not yet spurred to action. The next year, I went with Reed.  I couldn't believe my eyes. This was like no Christmas Play I had ever seen. Even to this güera (fair-haired USer) struggling at times with colloquial Spanish, it was a delightful work punctuated with moments of outright hilarity! Needless to say, I was hooked!

Origins of the Pastorela  

Pastorelas originated in Italy about 1223 when Saint Francis of Assisi had the idea of representing the Birth of Jesus in a Nativity scene. The religious purpose was to propagate the Christian faith by instructing illiterate peasants in the Christmas story. From Italy, the custom of Nativity scenes spread around the world. In Mexico the tradition developed with a uniquely Mexican flavor.

In 1530, a mere twenty years after the arrival of the Spanish, Brother Juan de Zumárrago, first bishop of Nueva España (Mexico), decreed that A Farce of the Delightful Birth of our Savior ("Farsa de la Natividad Gozosa de Nuestro Salvador”) be written. Brother Zumárrago's decree drew on the European tradition of medieval morality plays—short, one-act plays whose purpose was to instruct the masses.

The first pastorelas were written by missionaries in the order founded in St. Francis's name, Franciscans, who were the first to arrive in Nueva España. A while later, the Franciscans were joined by missionaries from other monastic orders, who also wrote pastorelas.

The first pastorela staged on Mexican soil was presented in 1533 at Santiago of Tlatelolco and was titled, El fin del Mundo (The End of the World). The indigenous people were receptive to liturgical drama, because their own tradition included both expressive rites for honoring their gods and a repertoire of true theater works.

The indigenous were also encouraged because the bishop's decree specified that 'dances, songs and flowers' be performed—elements considered by the indigenous to be essential parts of any fiesta. The open-air chapels of the churches served as backdrop for the first staging of this allegorical play celebrating the Eucharist and, later, pastorelas navideños.  

In Mexico the form and content of the pastorela evolved slowly, the result not only of indigenous influences but of dynamics emanating from an emerging Mexican identity. Secular authors began to write works with popular content, thus uncoupling the text from religious tradition. These works mocked not only the political and religious authorities, but aristocratic Mexican society as well. It is fair to say that the pastorela has been adopted as a welcome Christmas tradition by all classes of Mexican society.

With the passage of time, the pastorela assumed its present form—dialogues, songs, dances, and staged battles. Its simple language is passed through an oral tradition that culminates in performances in the streets, plazas and Atrios (forecourts) of churches.

Other pastorelas are scripted and formally staged in theaters, auditoriums or cultural centers, often with professional actors. In the 19th century, José Joaquin Fernández de Lizardi wrote "The Most Fortunate Night" (La noche más venturosa), credited with being the first theatrical pastorela.

Pastorela: Plot and Characters 

The basic plot consists of a group of pilgrims traveling to Bethlehem to take gifts to the newborn Holy Child.  But a group of devils attempt to disrupt their journey by putting all manner of temptations in front of the pilgrims.

In the end, good triumphs. Luzbel (Lucifer) is defeated by Saint Michael, and the pilgrims deliver their gifts to the Holy Child, whom they lull to sleep by singing. All the pilgrims kiss the Infant and make their exit singing.

Characters in the pastorelas include shepherds, devils, angels and archangels and a hermit. Various regions of Mexico add regionally significant characters, such as Indians, ranchers, or a monk. The Virgin Mary, Joseph and the Holy Child are usually presented as figures in a silent tableau of the Nativity Scene.

The shepherds are headed by one or two daffy women, whose husbands are usually named Bato and Bartolo—both comic characters. Foolish and weak, both husbands have a sweet tooth that will torment them on their pilgrimage.

Bartolo has another function. Owing to his ignorance, he is constantly asking 'What's going on?' His questions frame answers that relate the sacred history: the circumstances of Mary's and Joseph's pilgrimage, the Birth of Jesus, and the Adoration of the Three Kings. The Hermit's prayers support the Pilgrims' highest desires.

A group of devils is headed by Lucifer, his assistant Asmodea and a group of demons.  In many regional variations, devils represent and act out the Seven Deadly Sins, to hilarious comic effect!

The Archangel Saint Michael fights fierce battles with the demons, whom he ultimately conquers. Although the Archangel San Gabriel announces the birth of the Redeemer, he isn't always part of the cast of a pastorela.

Pastorela Navideño: Performance at Casa Hogar, Pátzcuaro, Michoacán 

The following year Reed took these pictures at the Pastorela Navideño, which I also attended. The performance was put on by drama students at the four-year Instituto de Tecnología, whose campus is just outside Pátzcuaro. Their participation was arranged by the Casa Hogar's administrative assistant, who is also an administrator at the Instituto.

The performance began with the entrance of the sheep.

Sheep played by boys from the Casa Hogar

The band of pilgrims enter next. In this version, it is a family that makes the pilgrimage. This variation reflects the region's primary value—family.

The Pilgrim Family

Forceful Leader of the Pilgrims

In Mexico, los grandes (the elderly) are greatly respected for their age and wisdom. La abuelita (Little Grandmother) is a fixture in Mexican families and in many theater works.

Weak, hapless husband

Daughter/wife walking with the abuelita

Luzbel makes his Grand Entrance, to the noisy delight of the audience, which has clearly anticipated his arrival. The Devil's role in this instance was tormenting the pilgrim family with temptations based on the seven deadly sins: greed, gluttony, sloth, pride, envy, wrath and lust.

The temptations are acted broadly as in a farce. The audience was obviously looking forward to the Devil's shenanigans. They were not disappointed!

El Diablo (Devil) played the role to the hilt...

As is plain to see!

The Archangel Saint Michael arrives to do battle with Lucifer.

Saint Michael confronts Lucifer, whose performance was so outrageous that even Saint Michael couldn't refrain from smiling!  Nonetheless, Saint Michael succeeded in defeating the Devil. 

Joseph and Mary arrive in Bethlehem, carrying the Holy Infant, as do the Pilgrims. 
All ends well. 

¡Feliz Navidad de México!

Other Christmas posts:

• Mexico Traditions: Pastorelas;
• Mexican Traditions: Posadas;
• Mexico: Urban, Middle-Class Posadas Take on Features of U.S. Culture;
• Christmas.

Mexican Traditions: Pilgrimage (Peregrinación)

"Pilgrimages are different from other journeys. Unlike most travelers, pilgrims are drawn to places where divine presence is revealed. 

"The pilgrim's journey is preparation for an encounter with sacredness. Setting out from home, the pilgrim becomes a foreigner (peregrinus in Latin) who experiences exhausting physical trials and threatening human encounters. This suffering consecrates the journey as sacred—'set apart' from life's daily routines. The pilgrimage requires support on the road for body and spirit."  - George Kubler

When we lived in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán, we rented a house, Casa Mariposa (Butterfly House), on the pueblo's outskirts. When Casa Mariposa was built thirty years ago, Lake Pátzcuaro's shoreline extended nearly into its back yard. Across the years, water levels have dropped, exposing lake bed and creating additional milpa (corn fields) and pasture land.

A vía (dirt lane) runs in front of Casa Mariposa, along which normally walk Purhépecha campesinos, including a cowherd and his dog moving a small herd of cattle morning and evening between lake bed pastures, students going to/from the nearby campus of the Instituto de Tecnología, the occasional dog walker and even a bicyclist now and then.

Pilgrimages from/to Pátzcuaro

But on the weekend before Ash Wednesday, foot traffic on the vía is crowded with pilgrims setting out from Pátzcuaro to walk to Tzintzuntzan—an annual peregrinación, pilgrimage, of 17.5 km (almost 11 miles). Our first year an expat friend made the trek. He told us that the vía doesn't always follow the highway; in places, it crosses open land, opening up unobstructed views of the countryside but also requiring pilgrims carefully to pick their way over numerous stone walls.

Various customs are associated with peregrinación. One custom is grounded in the Mesoamerican tradition of hospitality—a pilgrim's request for water or food is not refused. We learned this custom first-hand our second year when a Mexican acquaintance rang the bell at the gate of Casa Mariposa and asked for water, which we gladly gave even though at the time we were ignorant of the custom.Nor, shamefully, did we recognize our acquaintance out of his usual context. Only later did he tell us, with a sweet smile, about the custom and, in the telling, relate that it had been he and his young daughter who had rung our bell.

One weekend in Pátzcuaro, Reed and I walked up to the Basílica de la Virgen de la Salud, patron saint of Pátzcuaro. To our astonishment, about a hundred horses were tied to the railing in the courtyard in front of the entrance to the Basílica. We learned that it was a peregrinación—a traditional multi-day pilgrimage on horseback from all over the surrounding regions in order to secure a blessing at the Basílica de la Virgen de la Salud (Our Lady of Health).

At our favorite family restaurant, El Camino Real (The Royal Highway) near Casa Mariposa, we encountered bicyclists on peregrinación around Lake Pátzcuaro. Their destination was also the Basílica, where they would receive the annual blessing of the bicyclists.

Pilgrimage from Tacámbaro to Carácuaro to honor el Cristo Crucificado, el Cristo Negro

Another year, the brother and aunt of a good Mexican friend made the peregrinación from Tacámbaro, down in the tierra caliente (hot lands approaching the Pacific Coast) to Carácuaro. This pilgrimage to venerate the Cristo Crucificado (Crucified Christ) of Carácuaro begins on the Friday preceding Ash Wednesday.

Pilgrims bound for Carácuaro also set out from other pueblos, including Nahuatzen on the Purhépecha Meseta and Santa Clara del Cobre, near Pátzcuaro. 

The pueblo of Tacámbaro is the gathering point for hundreds of the faithful who walk across the mountains—a grueling, 14-hour trek whether undertaken by day, with its intense heat, or by night, with the dangers of walking at night.

Pilgrims wear comfortable clothes. Some of the faithful carry heavy crosses or even walk barefoot as an expression of gratitude for a blessing received from the Cristo Negro (Black Christ). Those walking at night carry blankets with them, sleeping gear, and flashlights to illuminate the path.

Many people set up puestos (food stands) along the path to sell food, fruit, juice, water and other items to the pilgrims. Apart from vendors, other people along the path give fruit and water to the pilgrims. These gifts are made either to fulfill a manda (sacred promise) or because the givers—once pilgrims themselves—wish to pass on to these pilgrims the supportive aid they themselves once received.

Cultural Roots of Peregrinación

Over time, we have become increasingly aware of pilgrimage as a distinct cultural phenomenon. One of the many pleasures of living in Mexico is a constantly unfolding dialogue between day-to-day cultural experience and our subsequent search for information to deepen our understanding. Whenever possible, we read Mexican sources in Spanish.

But every once in awhile, we come across something in English that speaks strongly to our experience. That's what happened when I came upon a description of pre-Columbian pilgrimages by Yale art historian George Kubler, internationally recognized scholar of Pre-Columbian America.

The first paragraph rang a bell:

"Before Columbus, Old and New World customs of pilgrimage differed greatly.... In the Old World, pilgrimage..has to do with journey...and endeavor....Old World pilgrimages are individual journeys in search of some personal favor."

Mesoamerican pilgrimages were very different, Kubler continues. Rather than individual journeys, Mesoamerican pilgrimages were

"...collective endeavors for guaranteeing the continuity of the universe against catastrophic dissolution in an unstable world."

In earlier posts we've described Mexico's geography, the actual, real-world implications of settlements on or near Mexico's Volcanic Axis, and the devastation of Cuicuilco, an early agrarian community in the Valley of Mexico, when Xitle, a nearby volcano, erupted.

The early peoples who settled this land knew first-hand the possibility of "catastrophic dissolution [of their communities] in an unstable world." A profound recognition of the world's inherent instability is part and parcel of the Mexican psyche and may be the root of the culture's inherent fatalism.

The question for Mexico's early peoples was, "How might we humans influence these destructive powers?" To the Western mind, the Mesoamerican solution to human helplessness before overwhelming natural force was extreme. The Aztec creation myths encapsulate the solution: two Aztec gods throw themselves into the sacred fire to bring light to the natural world; in turn, humans sacrifice their blood to nourish the gods. These mutual, reciprocal sacrifices assured the stability and continuity of the natural world.

Franciscan Missionaries Bring the Cross to Indigenous Communities—With a Twist

Here's Kubler's description:

"The Spanish introduction of one god as Father, Son, and Holy Ghost rapidly spread the idea of the Christian god dying for man's salvation. This reversed the moral situation in America, from the sacrifice of humans, to the sacrifice of god in the crucifixion and mass, of the body of only one god for all humanity—one symbolic sacrifice repeated at every mass everywhere, instead of the imminent sacrifice of any and every human in order that some gods might live." [emphasis added]

After the arrival of the Spanish, Christian pilgrimages appeared in Nueva España under the authority of the Spanish monarchy and the Catholic Church. These "new and inviting pilgrimages displaced the harsh, Mesoamerican, eschatological [relating to end of world] pilgrimages of endeavor to save the universe" (Kubler). It may be that Kubler over-simplified history.

This is where reading Mexican cultural historians in Spanish comes in handy. Enrique Florescano, for example, describes the eschatological (end of time) theology embraced by the Franciscan friars—the first missionaries to arrive in Nueva España.

For reasons embedded in the Judeo-Christian sense of history, the birth and death of Jesus was seen as a decisive break with past history and the beginning of a divine plan for mankind. After the Resurrection, mankind set out on a pilgrimage toward the Apocalypse—the End of the World, Final Judgment and the Second Coming of the Messiah, when God and Christ would bring human history to an end.

The Church's role was to expand the community of the faithful by preaching the True Word of Salvation to all nations of the world. At the return of the Messiah, the worldly powers would be destroyed—their rule replaced with a reign of the Holy Saints. This message, embraced by St. Francis and the monastic order founded in his name, had special appeal for the downtrodden masses and dissident Christians.

In Nueva España the apocalyptic message received a special twist. Jerónimo de Mendieta, Franciscan missionary and historian, saw Adam-like qualities in Mexico's original peoples,

"...simple, docile, guileless, humble, obedient, and living in harmony with their poverty" and "the indians [sic] were the creatures of the Lord" mentioned in the New Testament. Innocent, simple, pure, "they will inherit the kingdom of heaven."

The Franciscans thus saw in the original people perfect 'material' for recreating the asceticism and apostolic poverty that had characterized the early followers of Jesus—ideals shared only by original people and the ascetic order of Franciscan friars. In Mendieta's view,

"friars of the mendicant orders [under vows of poverty] and the indians would be the soul of the population of the celestial city."

Legend of the Black Christ of Carácuaro

The Franciscans' apocalyptic beliefs meshed smoothly with deeply-held Mesoamerican beliefs regarding the potential 'catastrophic dissolution of the universe' (in Kubler's memorable phrase). The result was a spiritual syncretism: Catholic beliefs melded with a far older belief system that can be traced back to the Mesoamerican worldview.

This syncretism is apparent in the legend of the Señor de Carácuaro. The sculpture was created in pasta de caña de maíz—a corn paste medium widely used by artisan sculptors before the arrival of the Spanish. Local legend has it that every year the Black Christ's head stretches farther down toward his chest. When his chin touches his chest, it will signal the end of the world. 

Evangelization Strategy of the Franciscans

The Franciscan friars were deliberate with their strategy for evangelization—explaining to the original people that their beliefs were 'on the road' to Christianity, the One True Faith. Similarly, the friars were intentional in replacing ancient rites and rituals with Christian devotional activities. To support this activity, early Franciscan missionaries documented original practices, including pilgrimages.

Kubler's analysis of these historical documents identifies four categories of Mesoamerican pilgrimages for the purpose of honoring and placating deities; namely:

• Water deities, located in mountains, caves, rivers and springs—these same sites were also visited at times of calendrical recurrences marking cyclical beginnings and endings;
• Deities that acted as tribal protectors or guardians;
• Semi-historical men-gods (Quetzalcóatl, the plumed serpent);
• Deities of health and sickness.  

By far the most common pilgrimages were to places associated with water deities.

Michoacán State: El Rio Carácuaro

The majority of Michoacán's waterways—rivers and streams—are located in the southern part of the state. Of these, the Balsas River is the most important. Together with its tributaries, the river system covers an area of 39,407 square meters. In Michoacán, the Cutzamala, Carácuaro and Tepalcatepec Rivers flow into the Balsas River.

Rio Carácuaro at Carácuaro, Michoacán

Fed by a number of rivers and streams, the Carácuaro River runs north to south and flows into the Balsas River, which empties into the Pacific Ocean at the Port of Lázaro Cárdenas. The Río Carácuaro is not an important river for navigation, but it is an important source of water for crop irrigation—especially maís (corn), which means that it may have been a destination for 'honoring and placating' the gods to assure a good supply of the water essential for the life-sustaining maís.

Too shallow to be navigated by large boats, the Río Carácuaro remains an important source of water for crop irrigation

If the people were threatened by drought from lack of rainfall, they also faced the opposite threat of flooding if the Rio San Juan overflowed its banks—shown by this UTube video (1:21 sec).

Church at Carácuaro

Father José María Morelos—hero of Mexico's struggle for independence from Spain—served as priest in the Church at Carácuaro from 1798 to 1810. This Church is host to the thousands who come not only from the State of Michoacán, but from all over the Republic of Mexico to honor el Señor de Carácuaro.

Pilgrims often approach the sanctuary on their knees. They try to get as close as possible to el Santo Cristo de Carácuaro (The Holy Christ of Carácuaro) in order to give thanks for blessings received and to seek health and happiness for their loved ones.

The old chronicles of Carácuaro speak of a Cristo Negro given by Brother Juan Bautista de Moya to a pueblo in the State of Mexico in the 16th century. For unknown reasons, the gift was turned down, and the statue was given instead to the Church in Carácuaro.

It is my speculation that the Rio Carácuaro was significant for the people—perhaps even a destination of pilgrimage—long before the arrival of the Spanish in 1519. It may be that the friars decided to give the statue to the Church at Carácuaro in an effort to replace original practices with Catholic devotional activities.

With the passage of time, this Black Christ has become famous for his ability to effect miracles, and he has come to be venerated as a saint, thereafter known as El Señor de Carácuaro (The Lord of Carácuaro).

A short article in Spanish on Mexican pilgrimage fuels this speculation. The writer notes that as Spanish missionaries replaced local deities with the Christian God, "as it happens," miracles attributed to Christian saints occurred on the same sanctuary sites formerly devoted to indigenous gods. Examples given are the Virgin of Guadalupe (1531), el Cristo Moreno (Brown Christ) of Chalma (1573), the Christ of Otitlán (1596) and San Juan de los Lagos (Saint John of the Lakes - 1623).

Two Legends of Carácuaro

The following legends were given to me by a Mexican friend, whose mother gave them to her:

One pilgrim is very famous. The people say that many years ago, a young woman named Mariana decided to make the pilgrimage. She grumbled as she walked along, saying that she’d made a bad decision to go on the pilgrimage. The other pilgrims told her that she had to continue, because if she abandoned her pilgrimage she would have bad luck, or God would punish her. Mariana didn’t believe what the people were telling her, and she stopped walking. During the night, while she was sleeping, Mariana was made into a cerro (hill). The Cerro de Mariana is visible from the pilgrimage road that crosses the mountains. From that time to this day, the belief exists that pilgrims who abandon their pilgrimage never arrive at the pueblo of Carácuaro.

This first legend dramatizes the mental and physical trials suffered by pilgrims. That the young woman is named Mariana is startling because it is a variant of Mary—always associated with the Virgin Mary. If the legend is a cautionary tale of what happens to those who abandon their quest to encounter the sacred, the legend also emphasizes the virtue of the pilgrims who persevere.

The second legend continues from the first:

The people also say that the man who carries Mariana to Carácuaro will receive many riches. The man must take a stone from the Cerro de Mariana and carry it on his back without turning to see it. There are pilgrims who say they have seen men carrying beasts, snakes or monsters in place of the stone. Up to now, no man has ever completed this feat. Some have arrived at the Rio San Juan with the stone, but just when they are crossing, they hear strange noises coming from the stone. When they turn and see what they are carrying, they become terrified and let the stone fall in the river.

This legend is fascinating. Completion of the heroic feat—carrying Mariana to Carácuaro—is to be rewarded with untold riches.  The wrinkle, 'without turning to see', brings to mind other myths that also demand 'blind obedience' from the faithful.

One is the story of Lot's wife who—having been told by God not to look back—nonetheless looked back at Sodom; for her disobedience, she was turned into a Pillar of Salt. Another is the Greek myth of Orpheus who—warned not to look back as he walked his wife out from the Underworld—became anxious as he neared the earth's surface. In his anxiety, he looked back at his wife and thus lost her forever.

'Beasts, snakes, monsters seen in the place of the stone', of course, are representations of the Underworld. Terrified by the monsters of the Underworld, each man has let the stone fall from his back into the river and hence return to its ancient place.

The roots of this legend extend deep into the Mesoamerican substratum on which much of Mexican culture rests.

Still Curious?

Unfortunately, except for George Kubler's article, I couldn't find any materials on Mexican pilgrimage in English.

Short, interesting article about Mexican pilgrimages written for Spanish-speaking tourists, but it gives interesting historical background: http://www.explorandomexico.com.mx/about-mexico/4/220/

Any of the UTube videos that follow show others along the right border of the UTube site.

• This video is somewhat long (14:51 sec), but the narration at the beginning adds detail and the dances from various cities and pueblos are well-photographed: Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=232r-q94pDY&feature=related

• Short statements made by the faithful introduce this video, then follow dances performed by pilgrims from many different pueblos, some wearing costumes of the Moors (3:02 sec).

Explanatory Note: The Spanish told the original people that just as the Spanish had prevailed over the Moors in Spain, so would they (Spanish) prevail over them (original people). When asked about the costumes, today's dancers say, "We don't know why; we just do the dances because they are our tradition." Reed's take is that these costumes of the Moors are a replay of the scenario with the first Spanish soldiers and represent the submission of the original people to Spanish power—to those bearers of the Cross and the Sword to these traditional lands:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dx-kMEflzQw

• Link to good description of Michoacán river systems (scroll down to Hidrografía):  http://www.e-local.gob.mx/work/templates/enciclo/michoacan/medi.htm