Valladolid Adventures Part 6: Mesón de Marqués, once a Spanish colonial mansion, now an excellent hotel

Entrance to Hotel Mesón de Marques. A mesón is a colonial-era mansion. Marqués refers to a rank within the Spanish nobility, second only to a duque (duke). The mansion, built in the 17th century, once belonged to a very important man among the colonial-era Spaniards of Yucatan. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to identify exactly who this person was. However, I do know something about the Spanish nobility in colonial Mexico.

While some men were already members of the nobility when they arrived from Spain, others were elevated from the status of commoner. This would happen after they had performed an important service for the Spanish king. In fact, Spanish commoners often emigrated to the New World in hopes of gaining a fortune and a title. So, while the hotel's Marqués could have been a noble when he got to Mexico, if he was a commoner any service provided would have had to be extraordinary to be given that rank.

After the 1810-21 War of Independence, much of the Spanish elite class, including members of the nobility, were expelled from Mexico. It is likely that the Marqués and his family departed at that time. The méson was then acquired by a wealthy Mexican family who passed it down from generation to generation until 1967, when the old mansion was converted into a hotel. 

Foyer of the hotel. While Mesón de Marqués has many modern amenities, much of its original colonial character has been maintained. Upon entering, we were greeted by a lovely woman dressed in traditional colonial fashion. The floor's stone tiles and the rough wooden rafters are both original features. The arch in the background leads into the restaurant, which surrounds what was originally the méson's courtyard. 

When the hotel was first established, it had only six guest rooms, a kitchen, and a courtyard. Today, the hotel has ninety rooms and a restaurant. Carole and agree that this is one of our all-time favorite hotels in Mexico. That's saying a lot because we have stayed in many of them. Hotel Méson de Marqués is centrally located, has great charm and architectural beauty, is efficient and comfortable, has an outstanding restaurant, and is reasonably priced. We could hardly ask for more.

Colonial-era painting of an angel holding a palm frond. Many antique furnishings and decorations can be found in the part of the hotel that was once the colonial mansion. This old painting hangs on the wall of the foyer. The unnamed angel holds a palm frond, which is a symbol of peace. As far as I can tell, only archangels like San Miguel were given names. I searched the internet for images of angels with palm fronds, but could find none that were named. This fellow must be a rank-and-file angel, the type who just runs heavenly errands.

The formal dining room has rough rafters like those in the foyer. The far wall contains a painting of Mexico's Patron, the Virgen de Guadalupe. She has been widely revered since the 16th century. This room was probably used by the early hotel to feed the guests. Today, it is reserved for private dinners or meetings. When the méson was used as a residence by the Marqués and later by the family that bought it in 19th century, every seat would have been filled by their large families.

In addition, special guests would have been invited to dine with them. These would have included officials of the government and the Church, wealthy local merchants, and important travelers passing through through the area. The conversations around the table would have included local political news, the progress of Yucatan's many wars and uprisings, and upcoming fiestas.

A charming display of local produce stood in one of the hallways,  Included are locally grown pineapples, papaya, watermelon, pumpkins, and chiles. Overhead, dried gourds hang in a bundle, ready to be used as containers. Produce like this depends upon the availability of water, which is scarce in much of Yucatan. In the northern part of the Peninsula there are no above-ground rivers or lakes. Water can be found in underground in aquifers, but these can only be accessed from cenotes and wells. Cenote Zaci, located near the hotel, was once the main water source for the pre-hispanic city of Zaci, Valladolid's predecessor.

The hotel restaurant is called Hostería del Marqués. Diners include not only those from the hotel but also from the local community. One of the nice amenities offered by the hotel to its guests is a free breakfast each morning. Upon check-in, you get a series of tickets according to the number of mornings you will be here. The Hostería's tables line both sides of the arcade that surrounds what was once the courtyard of the colonial-era méson. Diners can enjoy fresh air with their meal, while being protected from the sun or rain. 

The columns of the arcade support arches called portales. In the center of the Hostería's courtyard is a fountain, surrounded by a lush garden. I noticed that all three people in the foreground appear to be completely absorbed in their electronic gadgets. I have been guilty of this upon occasion, but I try not to do it except when I am alone. When others are present, I generally put my iPad or smart phone away.  The social impact of electronics, especially smart phones, seems very detrimental to interpersonal relations. I also find it annoying when people in a place like this talk loudly into their phones, acting as if they are alone.

In the rear, another courtyard is surrounded by guest rooms rising four stories. On the roof is an open deck with a panoramic view. The original méson had only one story. Sometime later, probably in the 20th century, four stories of rooms were added in back. Thankfully, the builders maintained a colonial style of architecture. This includes arcades with portales along each floor and balconies with french doors on the rooms overlooking the courtyard. The courtyard itself has trees and a garden, as well as a pool. At the rear of the hotel, secure off-street free parking can be accessed from Calle 37 (37th St).

The balcony door is framed by artfully-carved cantera stone. Cantera is a light stone that has been quarried since pre-hispanic times because it can be easily carved. The wooden balcony has only enough room to stand on, but it still would be nice to have one of these attached to your room. We have learned through long experience to avoid rooms that face onto the street. There is often far too much noise at night, particularly if you are overlooking a plaza, or are near one. A room will tend to be quieter if it faces an interior courtyard, like this one, or faces out from the rear of your hotel, . 

Our room was attractive, comfortable, and functional. We were charmed to find the towels on the bed arranged into the form of a swan. There are rooms with a greater level of luxury in this hotel, but this one had all we really require. A comfortable bed, plumbing that works, hot water, and a functional TV remote is enough to make us happy. 

We don't spend a lot of time in hotel rooms, except to sleep, or change clothes. To us, it makes no sense to spend a lot of money on luxurious extras that we barely use. Our real purpose is to explore the outside world, not hang out in our room. This being the case, an in-room safe is another essential item to us. We use it to safeguard important documents like passports, all of our money except what's needed for that day, and our camera and iPad. Each room at this hotel is equipped with a safe. 

A couple of guests chat by the courtyard's pool. The presence of a pool can cool down an area when the weather is overly warm, even if you don't use it to swim. This would be a nice spot to sip a cup of coffee in the morning or enjoy a glass of wine on a balmy evening. We only visit Yucatan during the winter, because we find the summer weather to be humid and hot. In addition, although mosquitoes are not completely absent during winter, they are less bothersome in that season.

This completes Part 6 of my Valladolid Adventures series. I hope you enjoyed it. If so, please leave any thoughts or questions in the Comments section below or email me directly. If you leave a question, please include your email address so that I may respond in a timely fashion.

Hasta luego, Jim

Valladolid Adventures Part 5: Templo San Servacio

Valladolid's Templo San Servacio is one of  the city's most recognizable features. Photos and paintings of the church appear everywhere. There are other colonial-era churches in Valladolid that are as old as this one, and some of them have interesting histories. However, none are as grand, beautifully proportioned, or are as historically important as San Servacio. The Templo stands opposite the south-eastern corner of the Parque Principal Francisco Candón Rosado, the main plaza of Valladolid. San Servacio's twin towers are visible from almost anywhere near the plaza.

In this posting, I'll first show you some of the interesting exterior features, before venturing inside to check out the mix of Baroque and Neo-Classical elements of the interior. As we move through the photos, I'll tell you the extraordinary history of the Templo. It is a story that goes back to the earliest days of the conquest of Yucatan and includes important events in the early 18th and the mid-19th centuries.

Exterior 

Main entrance of the Templo. It is framed by double pilasters on either side and an arched doorway, all decorated with a series of small crosses. Aside from these decorations, the rest of the facade is decidedly austere. The exterior of the church resembles some of the early-colonial "fortress churches" in central Mexico. This impression is confirmed by the two tall towers, one on either side of the facade. These contain narrow vertical openings forming gun slits as a defensive measure during recurrent periods of Maya unrest. At those times, the church was used as an actual fortress. I will talk about this further along in this posting.

The original church which once stood on this spot was demolished in 1705 and replaced by the one you see today. The former structure was built using stone from the large Zaci pyramid that once occupied the space where the Parque Principal is today. It is very probable that many of the limestone blocks originally looted from the Maya pyramid were salvaged in 1705 and re-used to build the current structure. I base this on the fact that the Spanish practice was to re-use building materials when they could. Quarrying, shaping, and transporting new limestone blocks from elsewhere would have been excessively expensive. 

Floral decorations cover the pilasters and the arch over the door. These decorative elements are among the few Baroque features of the otherwise austere exterior. The original Templo San Servacio was built on this site in 1545, after Valladolid was moved here from the city's original location a few miles to the north. The earlier church faced west, while the one you see today faces north. Why the original church was replaced and the new one geographically reoriented is a fascinating story. It involved sex, violence, politifcal intrigue, and retribution, all played out at the and of the 17th and the beginning of the 18th century. 

Near the end of the 17th century, a man named Fernando Hipólito de Osorno was appointed as Mayor, Lieutenant Governor, and Captain General of Valladolid. This was largely due to his close relationship with Pedro de los Reyes Rios del la Madrid, the Bishop of Mérida. As the story goes, Mayor Osorno was "a bright eye". This is another way of saying he was avid in his pursuit of beautiful women, regardless of any other relationship they might already have. As it turned out, the lady in question was the girlfriend of Miguel de Ruiz Ayuso, another important man. Ayuso felt that his honor had been outraged and he vowed revenge.

The twin towers viewed from the right rear. There are two levels on top of each tower and spaces for four bells on each level, amounting to sixteen bells in total. Quite a cacophony, if they all rang at once! There was at least one occasion when this actually happened, which I will relate later in the story of the church. The side walls of the church are more than 10m (30+ft) high, furthering the fortress appearance. Along with that are the circular openings in the railing along the top of the wall, which would have provided protection for marksmen should the church be attacked.

The jealous Miguel de Ruiz Ayuso also had political connections. These included Martin de Urzúa y Arizamenid, the Captain General of the Province of Yucatan. Ayuso claimed that Mayor Osorno had committed irregularities and mismanagement while in office. Osorno's friend and lawyer Pedro Gabriel de Covarrubias was also charged. Osorno was removed as Mayor and he was subsequently arrested and imprisoned on these fabricated charges. However, he soon escaped from the jail and took refuge in Templo San Servacio, where he was later joined by Covarrubias.

Rear of the church and a view of the circular wall surrounding the dome. The circular wall may have been intended to function as a last bastion, sort of like a castle's "keep". All these fortress features provide a sense of power, but also indicate an underlying insecurity and fear of attack. Except for the finials on the corners of the towers and atop of the railings and the circular walls, there are almost no decorative features.

Ayuso got his friend the Captain General of Yucatan to appoint him as Mayor of Valladolid.  For good measure, Ayuso's henchman Fernando de Tovar y Urquiola was made Second (Deputy) Mayor. Since the Middle Ages, the Catholic Church had traditionally offered sanctuary to fugitives. Ayuso chose to ignored this and, along with the Second Mayor, he incited and led a group of eight men to break into the Templo. Osorno and Covarrubias were wounded and dragged out to the front of the church. There, Osorno was beaten to death. Covarrubias was then taken to the jail where he too was killed. Both men's bodies were hung from the jail's window. Ayuso had savagely restored his honor.

This door on the west side of the church was once the main entrance. Two pilasters support an arch over the wooden door. The pilasters and arch are decorated with a series of small crosses, but the walls surrounding them are covered with rough stone. This original entrance faced west because, ever since the 4th century AD, Catholic churches have been built with their main door facing west. This was so that worshipers who entered would be facing east, the direction that symbolizes renewal, warmth, and the light of Christ. West is the direction of the setting sun, darkness, gloom, and death. 

The murders, which were committed on July 12, 1703 are known as "the crime of the mayors". Osorno's benefactor, the Bishop of Mérida, was outraged not only by the crime, but by its commission within the Templo. Blood was actually splashed on the altar. He complained to the Viceroy in Mexico City, who then removed Ayuso's protector, the Captain General of Yucatan. Mayor Ayuso and his Second Mayor, along with the other perpetrators, were arrested and tried. One of the gang, Roque Gutiérrez, falsely testified that Osorno had tried to shoot him with a rifle. However, he was not believed and all were convicted.

Over the door is a relief carving of St. Peter and St. Paul. I at first thought the the object between them was a bell, but my friend Richard Perry, an expert on colonial Mexico's religious architecture, tells me  that it is a papal tiara. Richard further explained the objects each of the saints is carrying. St. Peter (left), is balancing a large key over his shoulder, symbolizing biblical passage where Jesus gives him the keys to heaven. St. Paul (right) holds a sword, symbolizing the "sword of the spirit, which is the word of God". Below them is the door's arch, on which you can see the small crosses I mentioned before.

All total, the investigation and trial of those who committed the "crime of the mayors" took almost two years from the date of the murders. At the urging of the Bishop of Mérida, Don Alvaro de Rivaguda was appointed by the Viceroy to replace the former Captain General of Yucatan. Finally, on May 28, 1705, Rivaguda hanged Ayuso and Tovar y Urquiola (the Second Mayor). The fate of the other perpetrators is not clear, but it is probable that they too were executed. 

That same year, the Bishop of Mérida ordered the demolition of the original Templo because it had been profaned by the murders. Before this, as penance, all the bells of the old church were vigorously rung, along with those in many of Valladolid's other churches. The orientation of the new church was changed from west to north so that the new altar would not be in the same place where the old one had been splashed with blood. To this day, the Templo is still known as "the church punished in Yucatan".

Interior

The nave, looking toward the retablo in the apse at the far end. While the retablo has some Baroque features, the rest of the nave is spare and simple. There are statues in the several niches along the walls, as well as side chapels with altars. Oddly, several descriptions in tourist literature speak of three naves, separated by columns. As you can see above, there is only one, with no columns. I have found many different errors in tourist literature over the years. It appears that an initial error will be copied and then re-copied by other writers, many of whom may never have actually visited a particular site. I work hard to make this blog as accurate as possible and always welcome corrections.

Following their initial subjugation by the Spanish in 1545, the Maya of the northeastern parts of the Yucatan Peninsula remained restive. This increased as time went by because of the seizure of the Maya's traditional lands to create haciendas and the mistreatment of the dispossessed people who sought work there. Ships of the time used large amounts of rope in their rigging and it was discovered in 1833 that hennequen fibre was excellent for that purpose. The fibre came from Yucatan's native sisal plant, which soon became a major product of the haciendas. This resulted in more land seizures with more discontent.

The retablo has six niches containing statues and a seventh with a sunburst. The only two statues I can definitely identify are Jesus on the cross in the bottom center and San Servacio in the niche just above. Three of the other statues are of women cradling infants and may represent various versions of the Virgin. The fourth statue, in the upper right, is of a male in clerical garb. Below the crucifix is a reliquary (container for holy relics), guarded by angels at either side of the retablo. As Churrigueresque retablos go, this one is fairly restrained in its decoration. 

By 1847, the situation in Yucatan was boiling. The Maya were gathering arms and supplies for a revolt and sought official recognition from the British. The non-Maya Yucatecos had, themselves, recently revolted against the government in Mexico City. On top of everything else, the Mexican-American War had broken out in 1846. Santiago Méndez, leader of Mérida's Yucatecos, decided to pre-empt a Maya revolt by seizing one of their key leaders and executing him in Valladolid. He also burned several Maya towns and arbitrarily executed many people. This was the flash point that started the Caste War of 1847-1933.

The Maya attacked on July 30, 1847, seizing Valladolid and laying seige to the cities of Mérida and Campeche. The Yucatecos of Mérida decided to evacuate but couldn't find paper for the official decree. During the delay, planting season arrived and the besieging Maya went home to tend their crops. Hardly believing their luck, Mérida's Yucatecos quickly made peace with the central Mexican government. Méndez then counterattacked, and took back Valladolid in 1848. Templo San Servacio was a focal point in the battle and one of Méndez' cannons is still located inside one of the church's two towers. However, the Caste War dragged on for many decades, with a final skirmish as late as 1933.

San Servacio is the central figure of the retablo. He is dressed in his bishop's robe and mitre (hat). In this right hand he holds a shepherd's crook, symbolizing his relationship with his Christian "flock". His left hand holds a key, a reference to a legend that St. Peter gave him the keys to heaven. The top of the niche behind him is scalloped, a symbol of Santiago  Apóstol (St. James the Apostle). Two columns frame the niche. The bottoms of these have Solomonic spirals which, along with the relief-carvings of foliage, provide some Churrigueresque touches.

San Servacio (St. Servatius) was a 4th century bishop who was born in Armenia on an unknown date and died in 384 AD in Maastricht, in today's Netherlands. He was the Bishop of Tongeren (today's Belguim), as well as being a diplomat. A participant in various Church Councils, he vocally opposed Arianism, a doctrine that denied the divinity of Christ. According to one legend, he was warned in a vision by St. Peter about the Hun invasion of Europe (370 AD). Fearing the destruction of Tongeren, Bishop Servacio rescued the holy relics from the Tongeren Cathedral and took them to Maastricht, where he eventually died. 

 

A pink-gowned Virgin Mary stands to the right of the rebablo. Below the Virgin's statue is a crescent moon, a symbol often associated with her. In Mexico, the Virgin of Guadalupe is he nation's Patron and is always shown standing on a crescent moon. In the Bible, there is a passage from Apocalypse 12:1 where St. John refers to "a woman clothed in the sun, and the moon was under her feet." In fact, images of a crescent moon occur in a variety of ancient religions, including the Babylonians and the Phoenicians. Luna, the Roman goddess of the moon, is sometimes shown with a crescent moon. 

In the 12th century AD, during the Crusades, Christians noted that one of the symbols of Islam was the crescent moon.  The ancient passage from Apocalypse then took on a new meaning. The crescent became associated with evil and began to appear under the feet of the Virgin as a symbol of defiance toward the hated rival religion. This gained even more emphasis after the famous victory of the Christian fleet over the Ottoman Muslims at the Battle of Lepanto in 1571.

Catholic images of Jesus are often full of gory details. This one is no exception. Images of other human or humanlike figures (angels for example) often seem somewhat bland and anodyne. Images of Jesus, by contrast, are usually incredibly detailed and often quite bloody. Look at the gaunt, half-starved figure above. The ribs and muscles and even the toenails are intricately detailed. Blood flows down from the wounds on his hands, feet, knees and forehead, as well as the wound on his side. The emphasis is on suffering. In the Presbyterian church that I attended while growing up, Jesus never appeared on the crosses displayed and he was often shown in peaceful settings, surrounded by children. As a non-religious person, I take no stand on which is the better image.

Although there was no explanatory sign, the statue above appears to be one of the famous corn-paste figures first produced in the 16th century by Purépecha craftsmen in Michoacan.  They were then sold to churches throughout Nueva España (Mexico). In pre-hispanic times there had been a long tradition of producing images of gods made of corn paste, and then carrying them about in religious processions. Bishop Vasco Quiroga of Michoacan persuaded a master craftsman, who was also converted pagan priest, to start making corn paste statues of Jesus in order to create a local industry, while also spreading the faith. 

Santo Niño de Atocha. The Holy Child of Antocha is shown above as he is usually depicted, wearing a brown cloak with a white lace collar and a blue gown. On his head is a broad-brimmed hat with a plume and he wears open sandals on his feet. Santo Niño carries a pilgrim's staff in one hand and a basket of bread (and flowers in this case) with the other. Attached to the staff is a gourd of water. The staff, gourd, and bread basket are an important part of his legend.

The legend of Santo Niño de Atocha grew out of the 700-year struggle between the Christians and the Muslims in Spain, known as the Reconquista (Re-Conquest). The Muslims had invaded in 711 and were finally driven out in 1492. In the 13th century, prior to their final defeat, the Muslims had captured Antocha, near modern Madrid, along with a large number of Christian war prisoners. Probably for security reasons, the Caliph ordered that only children under 12 years old could bring food to them. Prisoners without young children of their own were out of luck. Then a miracle happened.

A beautifully crafted altar stands in a side chapel. In front is a statue of Jesus, carrying the Crusader banner and raising his hand to the heavens. Behind him is the Virgin Mary, with a halo behind her head and cradling a cross in her arms. The style of this lovely wooden structure is clearly Neo-Classic.

In the 13th century, the Virgin of Antocha was revered by the local people of the town. With the community's childless men imprisoned and on the verge of starvation, the people knelt before the Virgin's statue, praying for her to ask her son Jesus for help. Soon, reports began to filter out of the prison camp that an unknown child under 12 was bringing food and water to the childless men. When the women of Atocha went to the church to thank the Virgin, people were amazed to see that the infants's sandals were worn and tattered. Thus began the legend of Santo Niño de Atocha.

Over time, more legends about Santo Niño circulated in Spain. There were reports of an unknown child who helped foodless travelers and offered to guide those who were passing through dangerous country. In 1554, the original statue of Santo Niño de Antocha was brought from Spain to Zacataecas, in Mexico. In Fresnillo, near Zacatecas, a silver mine exploded, trapping a group of miners. The miners' wives went to the church where the Santo Niño was kept and prayed for help. An unknown child then appeared to the miners and showed them the way out of the mine. Later, the statue in the church was found to be covered with mine dust! 

This concludes Part 5 of my Valladolid Adventures series. I hope you enjoyed the photos and history of the church and the legends about Santo Niño de Atocha. Please leave any thoughts or questions in the Comments section below or email me directly. If you leave a question in the Comments, please include your email address so that I can respond in a timely fashion.

Hasta luego, Jim

 

Valladolid Adventures Part 4: Handicrafts at the Fiesta

A pair of smiling Yucatecas display their wares. They wear the traditional Maya huipil (pronounced "weepeel" and sometimes spelled hipil). More of these garments hang behind them, including some in children's sizes. The women were warm and friendly, typical of the people you encounter in Valladolid.

Theirs was one of the wide variety of handicraft booths at the fiesta in the Parque Principal. (see Part 3 of this series). In this posting, I will show you a selection of the handicrafts, but there were many more than I have space for here. The Maya have been known as skilled artisans for thousands of years. Hand-made huipiles, for example, have been worn by Maya women since long before the Spanish arrived.

Huipiles are often worn as day-to-day garments, but some are more formal. The basic huipil is a tunic which can be worn on its own, but often is accompanied by a kind of petticoat called a fustán, as seen above. The fustán above extends down to the ankles and some of these petticoats are decorated with horizontal embroidery as well as lace.

All the huipiles that I have seen in Yucatan were white cotton, due to the hot and humid climate. However, wool is used in parts of the Maya world that have chilly mountain temperatures, such as the Mexican state of Chiapas and in Guatemala. In Yucatan, I have often seen Maya women wearing their white huipiles while sitting on the curb of a busy street selling vegetables. How they keep the garment so clean is a mystery to me.

A friendly vendor offers stacks of sombreros. Broad-brimmed hats for both men and women can be found almost anywhere in Mexico, but particularly in Yucatan where the sun is very bright. In fact, the Mexican word for a hat, sombrero, derives from the word sombra, meaning "shade". Sombreros come in all sizes and styles, from those with narrower brims, to cowboy-style, to the classic sombrero, with its very wide-brim and high peak. Today, few Mexicans wear the classic version, other than mariachi musicians and the charros of Mexico's rodeos. However, the classic sombrero dates back at least 600 years.

Wealthy landowners in Spain wore broad-brimmed hats as far back as the 15th century. In the 16th century, cattle were brought over from Spain to Nueva España (Mexico). Soon, strays went feral, creating immense wild herds. Early hacendados (hacienda owners) hired vaqueros (cowboys) to round up these cattle and drive them to market in Guadalajara and Mexico City. To protect themselves from the hot sun the vaqueros soon copied the hacendados' broad-brimmed hats. Thus was born the Mexican cowboy and his sombrero. It would be another 200+ years before the first American cowboy donned his hat!

Looks like this cobbler is hoping Big Foot will stop by. What caught my eye was the size of the shoe he is displaying on his table. If not for Big Foot, then maybe Paul Bunyan? Some of his other wares include huaraches (leather sandals) for normal-sized folks. These have become popular throughout Mexico. During the 1960s "counter-culture", huaraches were widely adopted in the US.

Huaraches are believed to pre-date the 16th century arrival of the Spanish. The word huarache derives from the Purépecha word kwarachi, which translates as "sandal". The Purépecha-speaking people live in Michoacan and their ancestors once populated the Tarascan Empire, which was the bitter rival of the Aztecs. Early versions of the huarache have also been found in the Mexican states of Jalisco and Guanajuato.

A booth selling carved wooden masks caused me to pause. Carole and I have assembled a small collection of indigenous masks over the years, including examples from Mexico, Costa Rica, and Panama. We are always on the lookout for interesting additions. The booth above contains masks of all sizes, as well as other wooden carvings. The imagination of the artisans who create the masks is extraordinary.

Masks were intended to disguise the wearers' identities and transform them into the animal, deity or monster portrayed during rituals, ceremonies, and dances. The use of masks probably dates back to the Paleolithic Age (Old Stone Age). Indigenous masks are usually constructed from wood, bone, obsidian, shells, and natural fibers. The most ancient ones found are usually made of stone, bone, or stucco, because those substances were able to survive the passage of time. Stone masks from very early Mexican civilizations such as the Olmecs (1500 BC - 400 BC) are examples. 

The duality of the cosmos emerges from the helmet of an Aztec Eagle Warrior. The face is bisected vertically, with the dark left side showing an indigenous face, while the lighter right side is a skull. Duality was a fundamental concept of the pre-hispanic world. It was believed that everything has its opposite and the two halves make up a whole: light and dark, life and death, etc. Neither part cannot be appreciated or understood separate from its opposite. This is still expressed during Mexico's annual Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) fiesta.

Eagle Warriors, along with the Jaguar Warriors, were the most important Aztec military cults. Members of these warrior cults  dressed themselves to appear like their animal totems. Joining one of the cults required long training and lots of battle experience. The taking of war prisoners for sacrifice was considered an essential task for an aspiring cult member. All this didn't originate with the Aztecs, however. They borrowed the idea of the warrior cults from their predecessors, the Toltecs (900-1200 AD), who are considered one of the most militarized--and enigmatic--civilizations of ancient Mexico.

Elongated wooden masks lined the front of another booth. This sort of mask is popular not only in Yucatan, but in other places I have visited in Mexico and Central America. For example, we saw similar masks at the crafts fair in Tequisquiapan, a Pueblo Magico near the city of Querétaro, when we visited a number of years ago. Such masks are also popular in African cultures. There seems to be something appealing about the long, narrow form.

Valladolid, like Tequisquiapan, is also a Pueblo Magico (Magic Town). This designation is awarded to cities or towns that have particular cultural or artistic significance. Often these places have preserved beautiful colonial architecture and promote activities that demonstrate Mexico's deep cultural heritage. The program began in 2001 with a handful of pueblos and has grown to a total of 117 throughout the nation. However, that number was recently capped at 117 because of a perception that the designation has been over-used and that some communities may not measure up to the strict requirements. Most that I have visited do, however.

A grinning skull. This is another very popular format. Notice the "tattoos" on the skull's forehead and cheeks, as well as the small green dots on the teeth, representing jade. Pre-hispanic nobility inlaid their teeth with jade as personal beautification. This might seem a little bizarre until you remember the plastic surgery and tattooing that modern people undergo in order to "beautify" themselves. The decoration of actual skulls, as well as artistic representations of them, occurred in pre-hispanic cultures dating back thousands of years. 

Death was not seen as a final end, but as another form of being. The Aztecs, as well as people in other pre-hispanic civilizations, often kept the skulls of the deceased. They were de-fleshed and covered with with turquoise mosaics. The eyes were imitated by placing white shells and black obsidian in the sockets. In the civilization of Teotihuacán (100 AD - 650 AD), people not only kept the skulls of relatives, but sometimes also carved their de-fleshed bones into daily household implements. This was a way to keep a connection with loved ones who had passed.

There is a lot going on with this mask. The carved wood face has frowning eyes and a mouth that seems to howl. A pair of hands holds the model of a small temple under the chin. Resting on the head is a striped iguana, similar to many living versions I have seen in Yucatan and Central America. This mask was probably not intended for wearing, because it would be much too heavy. However, it is an eye-catcher, without a doubt. For those who are especially interested in indigenous Mexican masks, I highly recommend a visit to the great mask museums of Zacatecas and San Luis Potosi.

"Step right up and get it while it's hot!" A husband and wife team offer a selection of local delicacies for hungry passersby. Food was another popular item among the many fiesta booths. I am generally cautious about "street food", although some claim they eat it regularly without untoward results.  It is wise to watch the seller a bit before purchasing anything. Is the booth swarmed with customers? That's a good sign because locals generally know what tends to be safe. Also, does the person handling the food also handle the money? Money is especially unsanitary because it passes through so many hands.

Cases of turista (sometimes called "Montezuma's Revenge") are not uncommon, even among locals and long-time foreign residents. Stomach upsets and diarrhea are the usual result, but simple preventives and remedies are available. These include regular use of probiotics as a prophylactic. Loperamide (Imodium) is the usual over-the-counter treatment if you are unlucky. Sometimes stomach parasites can be a problem requiring a a doctor's visit. While not generally dangerous, they can be persistent and may require lab tests to determine the variety, with some being particularly resistant to treatment. 

A young European couple inspects the wares of another food seller. During our visits to various parts of the Yucatan Peninsula, most of the foreigners we met were young European "backpacker" types, with a sprinkling of Canadian retirees. People visiting from the US seem to stick to Cancun, Tulum, and other "tourist bubbles". Perceptions of safety may be the cause, since people in the US tend to view the areas outside the bubbles as far more dangerous than they actually are. This is not to say that there isn't crime and violence in Yucatan and Mexico in general. There is and it can sometimes be horrific. 

However, most of the violence is related to in-fighting among the drug cartels or between the cartels and the government security forces. Foreign visitors are rarely targeted. As someone once said, if you don't plan to deal drugs or join the Mexican police or Army, you'll probably have little trouble here. After after nearly 18 years of travel throughout the country, we have never had a problem. We do exercise normal caution, keep our valuables locked up, and avoid sleazy bars and walking down dark city streets. However, that's good advice for anywhere in the world, particularly in the US where random violence is truly horrific.

A Yucateca in a traditional outfit shops at another booth. This one is filled with a wide assortment of goods. These include Virgen de Guadalupe plaques, catrinas, jaguar masks, multi-colored turtles, dream catchers with vivid feathers, and much more. A friend of mine used to use the yiddish word tchotchkes (small inexpensive trinkets) to describe such things. There were many more booths at the fiesta, but I have given you a fair taste of what you might find here. If you have a chance to wander through a handicrafts fair like this, you won't regret your experience, although your wallet may be a bit lighter at the end.

This completes Part 4 of my Valladolid Adventures series. I hope you enjoyed it. 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, please remember to include your email address so that I can respond in a timely manner.

Hasta luego, Jim