Mexicans love dancing!

The "Owl Man" at the Ajijic Center for Culture and Arts. This fellow was part of a group whose musicians played replicas of pre-hispanic instruments. I nicknamed him the "Owl Man" because of his headdress. His wings were attached to his arms so that he could extend them fully and the total effect was definitely bird-like. I later found out from a friend that his real name is Sergio and he is from San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas. On Facebook he is called Xiu Ocelotl. For more on this performance, click here. 

In this posting, I will show you some of the dance performances we have witnessed during our travels around the country. Some were connected to important religious fiestas, while others celebrated national holidays. Still others, like the one with the Owl Man, were performances in local cultural centers. All of them were wildly colorful and full of deep cultural meanings.

Sonajeros at the Candelaria Fiesta, Tuxpan. Sonajeros get their name from the rattles they carry. A long piece of wood is embedded with metal disks similar to miniature cymbals. Holding the handle at one end, the dancer shakes the instrument and the disks clash together. When hundreds of these are rhythmically shaken by large troupes of dancers, the sound is impressive. The Sonajeros dance in formation, and I was struck by the similarity of their movements to the close-order drill I learned in the military. It turned out that there is a reason for this. 

The Sonajeros originated in pre-hispanic times. Their vests, made of braided ribbons, mimic the cotton armor worn by Aztec warriors. The Sonajero rattle resembles the basic Aztec hand-weapon, called a macuahitli. It was about the same size as the Sonajero instrument, but instead of small metal disks to make music, it was edged by razor-sharp obsidian blades. The macuahitli was a fearsome weapon, capable of cutting off a man's arm with one swipe. However, it could do little damage against Spanish armor and the cotton vests were no protection against steel swords or cross-bow arrows, much less bullets from the early firearms carried by the Spanish.

 

Chayacates at the Candelaria Fiesta, Tuxpan.  Chayacates wear masks that mimic the appearance of colonial-era Spaniards, but their antlered headdresses are indigenous. Their rattles are made from gourds filled with pebbles or seeds. Like the Sonajeros, there were hundreds of them. Both sets of dancers were composed of people from the various neighborhoods of Tuxpan. After suiting up, they all danced through town and converged into a huge parade which ended at the Plaza.

The Chayacate tradition arose separately from the Sonajeros. In 1774, a great epidemic hit Tuxpan. The local priest called everyone together and asked that they pray to San Sebastian, the patron saint for those afflicted by epidemics. They did and, miraculously, the epidemic subsided.  To celebrate this, a great fiesta was established to coincide with Candalaria (Februrary 2). The Chayacate tradition has been handed down through the generations and San Sebastian's statue is carried during the parade to honor his intervention on behalf of the people of Tuxpan.

Danza de los Viejitos (Dance of the Little Old Men), Patzcuaro. This is now performed in many parts of Mexico, but it originated in Michoacan during the colonial era. There are various stories about the origin of the dance, but the one I like best was given to us during our first visit to Michoacan. It seems that the Spanish conquistadors and their descendants viewed any kind of physical labor as below their status as hidalgos (gentlemen). In fact, even the lowliest soldier with a peasant background considered himself an hidalgo in relation to the indigenous people.  

As the story goes, the Spaniards would sit on their horses and watch while the indigenous people did all the actual work. Consequently, the lack of exercise weakened the Spaniards and turned them into viejitos at a fairly early age. The natives were forced to provide free labor as a form of tribute under the oppressive encomienda system. The indigenous folks invented this dance to mock the Spaniards covertly because any overt mocking would have resulted in immediate and severe punishment. 

A Danzante struts his stuff, Patzcuaro. The dancers are known as Danzantes. They wear 
white cotton shirts and pants, sometimes embroidered. Over this, they wear colorful blankets called serapes. On their heads, they wear straw hats adorned with ribbons of various colors. Their sandals have wooden soles to create a tapping sound. This is accompanied by taps from the dancers' canes as they mimic the hobbling of an arthritic old man. However, the performance is really quite athletic, so the Danzantes are usually young men wearing masks which imitate the faces of old Spaniards.

A male expat tips his hat to his female partner at the Ajijic Plaza. The woman was one of several who performed at the Michoacan crafts market that is held each December in the Plaza. The crafts people travel up to Lake Chapala to sell their beautiful wares to people who are looking for presents to give for Christmas. The dancers often entice members of their audience to join them. The confetti on the expat's head is contained in the hollow eggshells sold during fiestas. People have great fun cracking them over the heads of unsuspecting friends, relatives, or even random bystanders.

A Güegüe dances with his female partner at the Michoacan crafts fair. Güegües (pronounced "gway-gway") wear horrific masks. They are usually found dancing on the fringe of the main performances. Their purpose is to scare away evil spirits. They must be successful at this because I have never seen any such spirits at fiestas where güegües are present.

Traditional dancers at Dia de los Muertos, Ajijic Plaza. They wear clothing which approximates the 19th century attire of Jalisco's haciendas. The style above is probably recognizable to north-of-the-border folks, who may think it is typical of all of Mexico. However, traditional clothing styles vary greatly from one part of Mexico to another. The variety of clothing, food, and cultural traditions is an aspect of Mexico that I find particularly fascinating. To see more of the dancers at the Day of the Dead fiesta, click here.

Beautifully gowned dancers at Day of the Dead Fiesta, Ajijic Plaza. Gowns like these would have been more typical of Mexico's 19th century upper  classes. As they dance, the women whirl and twirl their gowns in a dizzying display of color and movement.

Dancers at Chapala's Cultural Center.  The jarocho costumes of these dancers are from Veracruz, on Mexico's Gulf Coast. They show a mix of colonial Spanish and indigenous influences. For example, the white color of the costumes is related to the indigenous purification rituals of the area. 

Female dance troupe at Chapala Cultural Center. The costumes these women wear are from Yucatan. The white, embroidered tops are tunics called huipils and are worn over the red skirts. Huipils are worn by the women of Yucatan for daily activities, not just for "dress up" or for dance performances.  In fact, while walking the streets of Mérida, we marveled at the women sitting on the curb and selling vegetables while wearing beautiful white huipils. How they could keep the dresses so clean remains a mystery to us.

Cross-dressing stilt dancer at Carnaval (Mardi Gras), Veracruz. When we visited Veracruz during Carnaval, we never knew what would happen next. I was listening to some street musicians when this person suddenly appeared. S/he was unusual enough in appearance, but the spectacularly vigorous dance performance was entirely on stilts. The only other time I have seen stilt dancers was also during Carnaval, but in Chetumal, capital of the Yucatan peninsula state of Quintana Roo.

Spontaneous dancer at Carnaval, in Veracruz. This very large woman lunged into the center of things and began dancing to the marimba music played by these street musicians. Her spontaneous performance soon had the crowd clapping and cheering.

Dancers in Mérida, Yucatan. These young women were performing for our tour group at one of the hotels where we stayed on an early trip through Mexico. The young man who was our tour director had arranged for them to entertain us. I commented to him that working with such lovely young women must be one of the perks of his job. He grinned at me and said "it's a tough job, but somebody has to do it." There was a group of rather severe-looking older Mexican women sitting in the background, obviously the chaperones. No doubt, our young tour director had to handle his arrangements rather carefully.

This completes my posting on Mexican dancing. I hope you enjoyed it and, if so, please leave any thoughts or questions in the Comments section below or email me directly. If you leave a question in the Comments section, please include your email address so that I can respond in a timely manner.

Hasta luego, Jim