Embroidered hipil, one of the many gorgeous textile creations at the Sunday Fiesta. Every Sunday, Mérida throws a giant fiesta in and around its
Plaza Grande. Music, food, indigenous dance performances, street artists, and the innumerable craft booths can keep you entertained all day and well into the night. The city also shuts down several blocks of Calle 62, heading north from the Plaza, and several other streets in the area, to creat pedestrian-only zones. Local restaurants set up their tables and chairs right in the street. Every block or so you will find a band or other musical group providing free entertainment. Anyone planning to visit Mérida should include a Sunday, if at all possible.
A grandmother, her daughter, and grand-daughter browse the booths. The
abuela (grandmother) wears the traditional indigenous dress called a
terno de gala. We saw women wearing them all over the city. At first I thought they were "dress-up" clothes for Sunday, or perhaps something to be worn for the tourist's sake. Soon, we discovered that this dress is the day-to-day outfit of a very large number of women here. Even women sitting on a dusty curb selling fruit out of rickety wooden boxes wore these dresses. How they kept them so sparkling clean was a mystery to us.
A jeweler works on a new creation while he displays his wares. Some of the pieces were stunning. Much of this jewelry is quite similar to what is displayed in the local archaeology museum. Maya craftsmanship has continued down through the generations for thousands of years. Although some of these wares were a bit on the expensive side in Mexican terms, a foreign tourist might find them a bargain compared to prices at home.
Typical textile booth. Here you could buy embroidered bags, rebozos (shawls), blouses, table cloths, and many other items, all hand-made. There were two concentric pathways around the Plaza each lined on both sides with booths. In fact, there were so many that I kept losing track of where I found items I might like to buy. It's a good idea to make a full circuit of all the booths before you make any purchases, because you may find something nicer and/or cheaper a bit further on. I finally resorted to writing down the location of the booths I wanted to revisit, otherwise I'd go nuts trying to remember where they were.
We encountered quite a number of foreign shoppers. The two girls on the right were probably German or Dutch from their speech. We encountered a large number of Europeans in Mérida, and a fair number of Canadians, but very few people from the United States. I guess all the negative propaganda has frightened many of my compatriots into staying home, or at least out of Mexico. Even when they come, they tend to congregate in Cancun or one of the other "tourist bubbles" that are to Mexico as Disneyland is to real life. Too bad, they don't have any idea what they are missing. I periodically get comments on my blog from Americans who tell me they would love to visit the places I show, but are afraid to venture south of the border. They tell me they have resigned themselves to experiencing Mexico vicariously through my blog. This is flattering to me, but it ain't the same as being here, folks!
Belts, belts, and more belts. The vivid and wildly contrasting colors you find in Mexico's textiles, and its art work in general, might seem a bit jolting if encountered in the US or Canada. Taken out of context, they can be somewhat eyepopping. However, when you live here, or visit extensively, you begin to realize that these are the colors that appear naturally, all around you. Particularly in the temperate or tropical areas of Mexico, flowers and other plants are constantly blossoming, with different species bursting into color during different times of the year. In addition, where I live, bougainvillea blooms year round and you can find several different colors of flowers on the same plant. It was strange at first, but all this seems quite natural now.
Two Maya women stroll among the booths. The overall design of their
ternos de galas is the same, but the details of the embroidery differ significantly. The painstaking work of embroidery takes about 6 months for a single dress, and each is an individual masterpiece. When the Spanish arrived in the 16th Century, they found a Maya civilizations with highly developed crafts produced by skilled artisans. One of these crafts was the weaving of cotton blankets, often beautifully decorated with feathers. Following the lead of the native lords, the Spanish demanded these blankets as part of the tribute they collected from towns and cities they conquered. Over time, Franciscan friars taught the indigenous weavers Spanish techniques and one eventual result was the
terno de gala.
An especially beautiful example of a terno de gala. The garment gets its name "
terno" from the fact that there are three parts to it. According to the
Mérida Tourism Department, "the first one, known as the '
jubon' is a wide, flat, richly embroidered square flounce that is attached to the neckline of the second piece, the
hipil. The latter is a white knee-high square dress, with embroideries and a lace-trimmed hemline. The third part, called '
fustan', is a long, straight waist-slip, which is worn under the
hipil and is also embroidered and lace trimmed. All the embroideries are done using a technique known as cross-stitch." Often the
terno will be complemented by a rebozo called "Santa Maria", referring to the village where they are made. The wearer matches the rebozo color to complement the
terno.
A closeup of the beautiful embroidery. Embroidery in Yucantan goes far back into the pre-hispanic era. Some pieces have even been discovered at the bottom of Chichen Itza's sacred sacrificial
cenote (well). The ancients used a stitching technique called
chuy cab, or satin-stitch. This method is still used, along with the
xocbil chuy, or cross-stitch, and another called
xmanikte. There are many other stitching techniques used in addition to these, and they are passed down from mother to daughter.
Having a booming good time. This rather jolly-looking fellow thoroughly enjoyed having his photo taken. His female companion seems a bit more skeptical. He was part of a Maya drum circle that set up shop in the middle of an empty but normally traffic-clogged street. I love having a live "sound-track" to my life, so I nearly always contribute to street musicians. They work hard for their money and usually give good performances. This particular group played hand-made drums not unlike those used by their pre-hispanic ancestors.
And for those that get hungry... Calle 60, along the east side of the Plaza, was lined on both sides with food booths. Inexpensive and delicious traditional Mexican food can be obtained here, if you want a break from the more spendy formal restaurants. Such street food is usually safe to eat, especially when it is cooked. Of course, it is always possible to pick up a bug, but you're not in Kansas anymore, are you? Still, even in Kansas, people occasionally get sick from restaurant food.
A local orchestra belts out a tune for a troupe of jarana dancers. Jarana in Spanish means "racket" or "noisy party". However, in Yucatan it refers to a local dance that is rooted in both European and Maya traditions. Generally, a
jarana orchestra, called a changara will have 2 clarinets, 2 trumpets, 2 trombones, a "
güiro" or dry gourd with slits tapped with a stick, and a set of tropical kettledrums called
timbales. Everyone, musician or dancer, is dressed in an immaculate white outfit with touches of color from kerchiefs or embroidery. The music is very upbeat and much more harmonious than the
jarana name implies. The Sunday Fiesta performances always draw a big crowd and it was a bit difficult to find a spot to get good photos, so I had to be creative.
Jarana dancers are paired off into couples dressed in traditional clothing. While many of the women still wear these dresses on a daily basis, the men have mostly adopted more modern clothes for daily wear. Notice that the men all have their right pant-leg rolled up almost to the knee. I'm not sure, but this might have something to do with making the dance steps easier. Traditional clothing like this is known as
traje de mestizo.
The dancers have to be athletic because their performances may be quite lengthy. It is not only the dancers who must possess stamina. Most of the instruments in the changara come in pairs. If a musician becomes tired, his partner can keep going. These dancers regularly perform for the big Sunday Fiesta and sometimes on Thursday evenings. However, many local people perform the jarana during fiestas related to their villages' patron saints' days.
Steppin' out. The dance steps are vigorous and intricate and vary from dance to dance. The performers whirled about, sometimes face-to-face, sometimes side-by-side. If a couple is particularly outstanding, the other troupe members may form a circle around them as they dance to the sound of the
timbales. There are two kinds of
jarana, one to a 6/8 beat and the other to 3/4. The 6/8
jarana resembles a tap dance called a
zapateado. This has its origins both in ancient Spanish Andalusia and in the local mestizo music called
sones. The 3/4 jarana was developed later and more resembles a waltz originating from the folk tunes of Spanish Aragon. In Mexico, this cultural blending is called
sincretismo.
And then, there's always the Purple Angel of Death. Mimes in outrageous costumes are very popular in Mexico. This angel of death didn't seem very scary to the little girl, whose parents wanted to take her photo with the apparition. I've seen motionless mimes in cowboy outfits painted gold from head to toe. In another case, I ran into a futuristic Special Forces trooper who could trigger a mechanical sound effect so that every move seemed like it was by a mechanical robot. Quite an imaginative bunch, these Mexicans.
This completes Part 3 of my Mérida series. Next week we'll visit the great flocks of Pink Flamingos that congregate at the Celestún Lagoon on the Gulf Coast of Yucatan and, afterwards, take a boat ride through the thick mangrove swamps full of alligators and other creatures. I always encourage comments and/or corrections. If you'd like to do so, please use the Comments section below, or email me directly.
If you leave a question in the Comments section, PLEASE leave your email address so I can respond.
Hasta luego, Jim
In Mexico, the dead live on. Ghost dancer at the Ajijic Dia de los Muertos fiesta in a rare moment of repose. The Day of the Dead is actually two days, November 1 and 2. The first is for dead children, "los angelitos", whose innocence is such that they are presumed to have gone directly to heaven, and the second is for adults.
Mis amigos, Jay and Veronica. Jay Koppleman is a wonderful local photographer whose work has graced the covers and pages of Lake Chapala area magazines. We ran into each other at the Ajijic Plaza, both intent on snapping some shots of the action. Later, he and his pretty Mexican girlfriend Veronica took me to Chapala to see an aspect of the Dia de los Muertos I had never encountered before. On the right hand column of this page you will find a section called "Other sites to check out". Be sure to click on Photo Gallery by Jay Koppelman.
Scary and funny at the same time. The ghost dancer was a frightful figure but also a clown. The kids loved him, especially when he would suddenly rush at them, causing them to scatter like shrieking birds. At one point, a small terrier was affronted by this apparition's antics and began chasing the ghost dancer, furiously nipping at his heels. The crowd howled with laughter as the ghost dancer raced around in circles and through the audience, trying to shake off his tiny assailant. The terrier, his valor demonstrated, finally trotted off to the cheers of the crowd.
An eerie profile. The hood of the ghost dancer's costume gave him a very strange profile. He used it to alter his appearance throughout the dance, and sometimes pulled it off his head to surround and capture an unwary bystander.
Catholicism and paganism melded. The ghost dancer holds a cross in one hand, and the marigold--an ancient symbol of death--in the other. Clearly there are heavy elements of paganism in his dance. In fact, the Catholic Church has very ambivalent feelings about the Dias de los Muertos fiesta and has, at times, denounced some aspects of it. However, the Church made its bed when early authorities co-opted pagan festivals and shrines into the Catholic tradition. Sometimes there seems to be a very thin veneer of Catholicism over thousands of years of indigenous religious culture.
Rockin' round the clock. After the ghost dancer departed, one of the local ballet folklorico companies provided some wonderful entertainment. Here, a couple fling themselves into a rowdy dance, dressed in the clothing typical of 19th Century country people who might have just finished a hard day's work on the patron's hacienda.
A graceful bow. This couple finished their dance with a bow, recalling the graces of past times on remote haciendas where such dances were the major social entertainment.
A dazzling display. Next came satiny dresses and voluminous skirts. Ballet folklorico was created to preserve the traditions of past centuries. There are ballet folklorico companies all over Mexico and in the United States too.
A flourish of skirts. The athleticism of these dancers was impressive. The costumes had to be heavy and hot, but they just kept whirling.
Male and female dancers weave an intricate pattern. While the clear stars of the show were the female dancers with their dazzling dresses, the males had their moments. If you look closely, you can see the male dancer in this picture is carrying machetes in both hands. These long, sharp knives--really almost swords--were used in some of the male-only dances. They were rhythmically clashed against the stone plaza surface and against the machetes carried by other dancers as they whirled about each other. Choreography and long practice help ensure no one is beheaded or disemboweled. Still, it was sometimes unnerving to watch.
The swirling, twirling dancers in their brilliant dresses were almost dizzying. These costumes represent what the higher classes would have worn in early 19th Century Mexico.
Leaning over backward to please. At the finale of their performance, the female dancers leaned back so far I feared a domino-like collapse. No disasters occurred, however. At the end, Jay and Veronica approached me about accompanying them on a special adventure to neighboring Chapala.
Altars lined Cinco de Mayo street for many blocks. After the dances in the Ajijic Plaza, Jay and Veronica took me over to Cinco de Mayo street in Chapala where a number of blocks were cleared of parked cars and given over to altars. These are a major element of the Dias de los Muertos fiesta. Some of the altars are created by families to commemorate departed members. Others might celebrate the life of a national hero, or even (see below) call attention to the death of a species. Usually the altars are set up in front of a house for neighbors and passersby to view and admire.
An altar for the animals. Dia de los Muertos altars usually involve family members, but not always. In this case, the creator of the altar wanted to call attention to the extinction of whole species of wildlife. The cross says "rest in peace in the earth". On the altar are skulls of a wide variety of animals and the stuffed body of a wildcat with a dead bird in its mouth. Mexico has a growing environmental movement.
The path to eternity. A typical element of many altars is a path, or walkway, paved with marigolds, which leads the spirit of the dead to the altar. Additional elements shown here are candles and skulls made of sugar which are eaten after the event.
Gambling for souls. In this living (sort of) tableau, death plays cards with anyone willing to sit down at the gaming table. Step right up!
Standing watch. Some of the altars came complete with mimes who silently stood guard over the pictures and favorite foods and personal items deceased family members. Curious, I asked if you have to be dead to be pictured on the altar. You do indeed. At one altar, a group picture of young men had one end torn off. Apparently all those pictured had died, possibly together, and the one in the torn off section survived.
A ghostly appeal? This young woman's sign means "I look for a boyfriend". She is dressed as a cadaverous bride. Any takers? Apparently she is celebrating the life of some relative who died on the verge of marriage.
Almost makes me want to regrow my mustache. The streets were thronged with people not only from the neighborhood and from the Lake Chapala area, but from Guadalajara too. This young couple joined a large group of others dressed--and made up--for the occasion. The crowd was so thick I was afraid some of the beautiful altars might get damaged, but everyone was careful and respectful of the work others had done.
Sorry, all seats are taken--you just can't see the occupants. At this altar, someone has set an elaborate table for the dead with different meals on each plate representing the favorite dishes of the departed. A ghostly figure ensures that no one sneaks a bite uninvited. However, there is also a tradition of providing food for passersby, and we stopped at several locations to sample various delicacies including some delicious dessert tamales, a first for me.
Catrina keeps watch over La Revolucion. No Dia de los Muertos fiesta is complete without at least one Catrina. These are skeletal figures, usually female but sometimes male, dressed in a variety of costumes and engaged in the activities of the living. Catrinas were created by a 19th Century Mexican journalist and cartoonist Guadalupe Posada who drew figures in the elegant European-oriented costumes of the time. The idea caught on and today there are a wild variety of Catrinas (and Catrinos) engaged in every task imaginable including some dressed as Gringo tourists complete with camera. Hmmm...perhaps I have been getting a little thin lately?
