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

 

The Sonajero & Chayacate dancers of Tuxpan's Candelaria Fiesta

Sonajero dancers enter the atrium of Tuxpan's church. Each colonia  (neighborhood) fields its own troupe of dancers. The group above was one of many approaching from all parts of town as the Fiesta de Candelaria got under way. Last February 2, Carole and I brought two car-loads of friends to witness this extraordinary event. We first came to this fiesta in 2012 and the experience was stunning. When I described the fiesta to some friends last winter, they were eager to attend. Tuxpan's event combines multiple traditions, with roots dating back to the colonial and even pre-hispanic periods. The townspeople are wonderfully friendly and hospitable, particularly to foreign visitors. Tuxpan is a two-hour drive south of Lake Chapala, off Cuota #54, the toll road that leads from Guadalajara to Colima. For a Google map, click here.

Overview

Dancers packed the atrium in front of the Iglesia de San Juan Bautista. This broad, open plaza has a stand-alone cross in its middle (visible on the right). The Franciscans built the original church in 1536 and erected the cross not long after. While the church was rebuilt in later centuries, the original eight-sided cross remains and is the oldest colonial monument in Jalisco. The town's name comes from the Nahuatl language of the Aztecs and means "Place of the Rabbits."

These Tourist Police were all smiles when I asked to take their photo. Their attitude was typical of the local folks we met. Everywhere, people smiled at us and those that spoke English (a surprising number) asked if we'd like them to explain anything about the fiesta. While some of Mexico's fiestas are thronged with foreigners, Tuxpan's is different. Because it is somewhat off the beaten tourist track, almost all the spectators are from the local area. A significant portion of Tuxpan's population participates in one or another of the dance troupes.

Detail from a large mural at the Centro Cultural. There are multiple panels showing Tuxpan's history from pre-hispanic times to modernity. This one highlights the variety of dancers. We visited the Centro Cultural while waiting for the show to begin. The attached museum was closed and, seeking information about its hours, I stuck my head in an open door. A woman inside immediately invited us to sample some specially prepared pre-hispanic food. In the blink of an eye, we became honored guests at a banquet that included officials from Mexico City. While we tasted the various delicious dishes, a local poet recited his work and the officials gave speeches (all in Spanish, of course). The din of the fiesta was growing, so we thanked our hosts and joined the festivities outside. Mexico's famous hospitality is no myth.

People carrying gaily dressed dolls began to gather in front of the church. The dolls represent one of the fiesta's multiple threads of historical tradition. While the doll on the right is attired as a Sonajero dancer, most of the others were dressed like the one on the left. People of all ages and both sexes carried dolls--even teenage boys! According to the Bible, Jesus was presented by his parents at the Jewish Temple 40 days after his birth. Jewish religious law in the 1st Century AD forbade a woman to go to the temple for 40 days after giving birth because she was "unclean". February 2 occurs 40 days after December 25 and the occasion has come to be celebrated as Candelaria or Candlemass.


Sonajeros

The Sonajeros represent a tradition with deep pre-hispanic roots. The dancers perform in massed ranks, to the rhythm of the sonajeros (rattles) they each carry. The name can be applied either to the rattle or the dancer. When I first saw these dancers perform, I was reminded of the close-order drill that I learned during my military service. In fact, this is called the Dance of the Warriors and honors Xipe Tótec, the Aztec god who invented war. The rattle closely resembles the macuahuitl, a fearsome hand weapon the Aztec soldiers carried into battle. In ancient times, these were edged with razor-sharp obsidian. Today, instead of obsidian, a sonajero contains three sets of metal disks set in notches along the length of the instrument, with a handgrip at one end. When the instrument is shaken, the disks clash together, sounding somewhat like a tambourine. Hundreds of sonajeros, shaken in unison, create a rhythmic din.

The dancers wear vests of multi-colored ribbons. The vests mimic the cotton armor worn by the Aztec warriors. It provided some protection from arrows and other pre-hispanic weapons but was of little help against Spanish steel. Notice that these dancers have removed their sombreros and are holding them close to their sides. They did this just before entering the atrium, apparently a gesture of respect toward the church.

Women and girls danced as Sonajeros too. In fact, there didn't seem to be any gender or age bar to participation. It was a clear and sunny day in early February and the dancers' costumes covered them from head to toe. By noon, it had become pretty warm and I marveled at their stamina as they danced and twirled.

Although only four or five years old, this niña was a full participant. Even on a break, she continued to dance. There were lots of kids among the dancers, as well as some elderly folks. Participation is clearly a family affair.


Chayacates

Wearing antlers and carved wooden masks, the Chayacates now arrived. All their masks were in "whiteface" with Spanish-style beards and mustaches. The name for these dancers comes from the Nahuatl word chayácatl, which means "man wearing a mask".

An energetic pair of Chayacates led the troupe from the Colonia San Fabian. Each cuadrillo (troupe) carried a banner with the name of their colonia. Like the Sonajeros, all the Chayacates carried rattles which they shook in unison. The Chayacate rattles are made from hollow gourds filled with seeds.

Also like the Sonajeros, there are kids in the Chayacate cuadrillos. The origin of the Chayacate tradition harks back to a great epidemic in 1774. The local priest called upon everyone to pray to San Sebastian, the patron saint of people afflicted with plagues. The epidemic soon ended and the dance was inaugurated to thank the saint for his intervention. Statues of San Sebastian are carried by the faithful in the parade through town that begins when all the cuadrillos are assembled.

A cuadrillo of "blonde" Chayacates approaches the atrium. They are followed by another troupe with red "hair". The Spanish features, and the long blonde or red hair, hark back to another colonial tradition. Since disrespect toward their Spanish overlords could be dangerous, indigenous people sometimes used masks and dances to subtly mock their oppressors.

Güe Gües

A Güe Güe carrying a sword pauses for a breather. I have encountered these figures at indigenous dances all over Mexico, but I have yet to find a translation for the name. They always wear horrific monster masks and often carry a weapon like a wooden sword or a long whip. Güe Gües lead the processions or hover about the edges of the action. Their purpose is to frighten away evil spirits, as well as to entertain the crowd with their antics.

A Güe Güe leads a group of Sonajeros through the streets. Notice the red imitation blood on his sword. While most Güe Gües favor modern masks made of rubber, this one wears a more traditional version made from carved wood with vivid paint.

Kids, especially the young boys, seemed to favor the role. This group immediately began to cavort when they spotted my camera. Unlike the Sonajeros and Chayacates, the Güe Gües are not expected to keep in step with the dancers they accompany. This gives them considerable freedom of action and they take full advantage.

A handsome couple. A fanged devil and his skull-faced companion were eager to pose for me. It would be hard to find a finer pair of evil-spirit chasers.

Moros

A bare-chested Moor scans the area, his bow and arrow at the ready. Los Moros (the Moors) represent still another tradition. The Dance of the Moors and the Spaniards harks back to the 700-year struggle by Christian Spaniards to expel the Moors, who had invaded and seized Spain in 711 AD. The final victory came when the Moorish city of Granada fell in 1492. The Dance of the Moors and Spaniards commemorates this struggle and final victory.

A young Moor pranced about the edge of the crowd. Los Moros always wear hats with crowns of feathers and generally carry bows and arrows. My photo caught him in the act of pelting his friend with a piece of candy.

The littlest Moor. He is dressed in full Moorish regalia, including a bow, with peacock feathers that are nearly as long as he is tall.

Other dancers

The América cuadrillo. These dancers are the key performers at the fiesta to honor the Virgin of Guadalupe on December 12. However, it seems that no one wanted to miss out on Candelaria. 

This fellow bore a striking resemblance to Jesus. It wasn't clear to me whether that was his role. However, his costume didn't resemble that of any of the other dancers and he wasn't a Güe Güe. The pretty señorita by his side appears to be his girlfriend.

A violinist who accompanied a Chayacate cuadrillo. This jaunty fellow could have just stepped out of some bizarre orchestra pit.

A clown with a rather sinister smile. Not the sort of jester I'd want to meet in a dark alley. He looks a bit like the Joker in the Batman movies. I assumed he was one of the Güe Gües but, again, who knows? Mexican fiestas often have a surreal quality that defies explanation.

This completes my posting on Tuxpan's Candelaria fiesta. I hope you enjoyed it. If so, please leave any comments or questions in the Comments section below, or email them to me directly. If you leave a question in the Comments section PLEASE leave your email address so I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim

Indigenous dancers & their traditional instruments

An Owl Dancer performs in Ajijic. Owls were important symbolic creatures in the pre-hispanic world. They are depicted in various murals and pottery paintings found at the great city of Teotihuacan (100 AD - 650 AD). In addition, they appear in the mythology of both the Maya and the Mexica (Aztecs). Several months ago, Carole and I attended a performance by a visiting troupe of indigenous dancers held at the Auditorio de la Ribera here in Ajijic. The music for the dancers was played on reproductions of a variety of Aztec instruments. 

This kind of drum is called an huehuetl. The word is from Nahuatl, the language of the Mexica. They shared this tongue with many of the other nomadic groups who migrated from the great deserts of the north into the Valley of Mexico after the fall of Teotihuacan. In Nahuatl, huehue means "very old", or "venerable" and therefore of great importance. The huehuetl was considered so important that its name became synonymous for gatherings of musicians, whatever the instrument they played. These drums were usually made from the wood of the ahuehuete, a kind of cypress sometimes called a "drum tree". While huehuetls were sometimes made from clay or even precious metals, not many of those types survived the Conquest. The sides of the drums contain mystical symbols and the hollow wooden cylinders are supported by decoratively carved tripods. The bottoms of the drum cylinders are open, but the tops are covered by tightly stretched animal skins. These are struck with the fingers to produce several different tones according to how near or far from the center the fingers hit.

The Owl Dancer's piercing eyes stare out from under his extraordinary headdress. The owl eyes of his costume have a deep significance. The rain god Tlaloc was one of the most important mythical figures of the ancient world. He is nearly always depicted with rings around his eyes. These are often described by archaeologists as "goggles", but some of them believe the rings are imitations of owl eyes. Tlaloc was the only one of the massive array of Aztec gods who was allowed to share equal billing with Huitzilopochtli, the god of the sun and war. Together, their shrines occupied the top of the Templo Mayor, the great pyramid in Tenochtilan (now Mexico City) which was the center of the Aztec universe.

Tlalpanhuehuetl, or standing drum. On top of the drum, you can see two other instruments: a gourd rattle and a conch shell. While huehuetl drummers played sitting down, those using a tlalpanhuehuetl stood. Carved on the top and bottom sides of the drum are an eagle and the sun, both symbols of Huitzilopochtli. He moved across the sky during the day, keeping the darkness at bay and providing the light and warmth that allowed the crops to grow. According to Mexica beliefs, Huitzilopochtli had to be fed a constant diet of human blood in order to gain the strength to return each morning and thus keep the world intact. This fitted nicely with the Mexica's own appetite for warfare. Their conquests resulted in Mesoamerica's greatest and most powerful empire, at least until its destruction by the Spanish. In addition to wars of conquest, the Mexica also fought what they called "Flowery Wars." These conflicts were staged on a regular basis solely to capture enemy soldiers who could be sacrificed on Huitzilopochtli's altar atop the Templo Mayor. Thousands had their living hearts ripped out while the last sound they heard was the thunderous drumming of huehuetls and tlalpanhuehuetls.

Skull Dancer wearing chachayotes, which are anklets of ayayote nut shells filled with pellets. Even one dancer wearing chachayotes creates a rythmic noise of considerable volume. Imagine hundreds, or even thousands, dancing in the great plaza in front of the Templo Mayor. In addition to his chachayotes and penacho de plumas (feathered headdress), he wears a loincloth with the pattern of a jaguar's fur. Jaguars were another animal considered sacred throughout Mesoamerica. They are extremely powerful night hunters and the ancients believed that these qualities connected them to the forces of darkness and death. The two most important military cults of the Mexica (and the Toltecs before them) were the Eagle and the Jaguar warriors who dressed in costumes imitative of their totem creatures.

These two horizontal drums are called teponaztli. The drummers were usually seated while playing this instrument. However, during warfare, these drums were sometimes worn hanging at the waist from a neck cord. There are accounts of Mexica kings leading their warriors into battle while playing a teponaztli. Each hollowed-out log has cuts along its length and across the middle, made in the shape of an "H". These cuts create two keys which are played with rubber-tipped sticks. The keys might be cut to different lengths or thicknesses to create different tones. Sometimes the end or bottom of the instrument was open to increase the volume. The teponaztli were often used to accompany huehuetls. In addition to warfare, the drums were often used to accompany poetry and singing.

The Skull Dancer's head gear includes a skull mask framed by an extravagant penacho. The artistic representation of skulls, or the ritual use of actual human skulls themselves, was common in pre-hispanic civilizations. The ancients viewed death as another plane of existence, not oblivion. Further, they saw death as inextricably connected to life, i.e. another expression of the duality of the universe which includes day vs night, male vs female, cold vs hot, etc.

Turtle-shell drums were called ayotl or sometimes ayocacallotl. The use of the ayotl was generally restricted to funerals. Early colonial historians recorded that they were played during death rites for a Tarascan king. At the end of the ceremony, the dead ruler's top officials and servants were clubbed to death in order to accompany their leader into the afterlife. Behind the ayotl are several pieces of stone also used as musical instruments. These lithophones, called tehuehuetl, are  made from volcanic stone slabs. The tehuehuetl are beaten with stone spheres to create a kind of hollow ringing sound.

A pair of rattlesnakes twine themselves around five skulls in this unidentified instrument. As best as I can figure, this resembles the "rainsticks" found in Central and South America, Southeast Asia, Australia, and Africa. Such instruments are given the name because they are hollow and filled with pebbles or seeds. When they are upended, the pellets inside cascade down the length of the interior. The resulting sound resembles falling rain striking leaves in the forest. The purpose of a rainstick is to encourage rain. It is possible, but not confirmed, that rainsticks may have made their way from Central or South America to the Aztec Empire.

The musicians and dancers included children, some quite young. The inclusion of children is a means of keeping these traditions alive. Some of the instruments I have been describing can be seen in use above. On the left, are three of the tlalpanhuehuetls, one played by the Skull Dancer. On the right, two young musicians play tehuehuetls and a teponaztli.

This concludes my posting. I hope you have enjoyed the images and stories behind these ancient instruments. If you liked this posting, I hope you will leave any thoughts or questions in the Comments section below, or email me directly. If you leave a question in the Comments section, PLEASE leave your email address so that I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim

Zamora Part 6: Cowboy saints and devils on motorcycles

Indigenous mask from the Purépecha pueblo of Ocumicho. During our visit to Zamora, Carole and I scheduled a day trip to investigate several of the small pueblos in the mountains surrounding the city. These pueblos are the home of the native Purépecha people, the largest indigenous population in Michoacan and one of the largest in all Mexico. The carved wooden masks of Michoacan are very distinctive. They are usually anthropomorphic, in this case a mixture of human and cow. Other very common features of Michoacan masks are snakes, lizards, or insects writhing across the features of a mask, along with intricate and vividly painted designs. We purchased this one from one of the artisans in Ocumicho for approximately $24.00 USD.


San José de Gracia and its old Franciscan mission

The squat steeple and the double choir window over the door are typical of this region. During my research for this blog post, I consulted with Richard Perry, an expert on the colonial religious architecture of Mexico. He edits a website call Arts of Colonial Mexico and has written a wonderful book called Blue Lakes and Silver Cities. Anyone visiting the states of Jalisco, Michoacan, Guanajuato or Querétaro should pick up a copy. Richard believes this is a Franciscan church, part of a small mission complex sited in the pueblo of San José de Gracia. The town, also known as San José Ocumicho, has only 558 inhabitants, living in 112 households. We discovered it on the way to the larger pueblo of Ocumicho, which was one of our intended destinations on this day trip.

Near the altar of the church, we discovered this rather startling figure. The statue is about 3/4 human size and is set up as a special display in front of the altar. The nature of the display led me to believe that it may be for a special saint's day, rather than being part of the church's regular decoration. Richard suggested the figure might be San Isidro, whose feast day is in May. However, June 28 was the date we visited. In any case, the figure (who might well be a woman) is dressed in a Mexican serape and wearing a rather fancy cowboy hat. Wrapped around the statue's waist is an elaborate leather apron with a flower design. I would be happy to hear from anyone who might be able to identify him/her.

A horse grazes peacefully by the ruins of an old Franciscan hospital for the Purépecha. When I spotted this structure on the street leading into town, we immediately decided it was worth investigating. Our interest increased when we saw that it was adjacent to the old Franciscan church. I thought it might have been the original colonial church, since most of the oldest churches were simple adobe structures like this one. When I emailed the photo to Richard Perry, he replied that this may have been a hospital attached to the mission complex. Its structure is very similar to one that Richard has definitely identified as a Franciscan hospital in the nearby pueblo of Patamban. Another very similar hospital in the pueblo of San Lorenzo is pictured in Blue Lakes and Silver Cities. The adobe structure seen above is rectangular and its exterior is covered by plaster. The clay tile roof is supported by wooden rafters. The only entrance is the arched door.

View through the door, showing adobe walls and carved wooden rafters. The interior was overgrown with brush. Apparently the the adobe walls inside the hospital were never plastered, or perhaps the plaster has fallen away. The only brick or stone elements of the structure I found were in the frame of the doorway. The original Spanish "hospitals" were not intended for medical purposes, but to offer shelter, food, and religious services to pilgrims. After all, hospital is the root word for hospitality. As the Spanish Church began establishing missions in the New World, hospitals were seen as a conversion mechanisms. The friars acted as health care providers in order to supplant their main rivals, the native shamans. Thus, the focus of the mission hospitals increasingly became medical care.

I was intrigued by the graceful carving of the wood rafters. The Purépecha were famous as woodcarvers before and after the Spanish arrival. The vast forests blanketing the mountains of Michoacan gave them ample working material. Hospitals such as this were utilised primarily by the indigenous people. The Spanish overlords avoided them both because of a fear of infectious diseases and because institutional care implied poverty. The Spanish preferred to receive their health care delivery at home.

Ocumicho, home of the little devils

Church of St. Peter and St. Paul in Ocumicho's plaza. This old colonial church is small but very charming. Ocumicho is built on a hillside so the streets wander a bit rather than conforming to the usual colonial grid pattern. Ocumicho was the name of the original Purépecha village. One translation means "place of the cobs", a reference to the production of maiz (corn). Another is "place of the tanners" referring to the tanning deer hides for leather and shoes, an early village specialty. The Spanish who settled here in the mid-16th century received their town charter in 1568. The Iglesia de San Pedro y San Pablo (seen above) was completed in 1622.

View of the rear of the church. The unusual conical buttresses on the rear corners of the structure caught my eye. This church also has an old hospital attached to it, along with other colonial-era buildings. According to Perry's book, Blue Lakes and Silver Cities, the church/hospital complex was a visita (local branch) of the Franciscan monastery at Tarecuato.

Two girls sit by the entrance of the mission complex. They are giggling over a note in the hands of the girl on the right. I am betting that it was received that day from a boy at their school. Kids are kids, wherever one encounters them.

Incense drifts toward the ceiling at the altar of the church. A Purépecha woman moved about, fumigating the various images and statues of saints with incense. Another couple of women sit near the front, chanting quietly. When I asked her, the woman with the incense confirmed that it was copal. Copal incense had been used for centuries by pre-hispanic civilisations in their religious rites. Since incense had long been used in Catholic religious rites, copal was quickly adopted by evangelising friars. Copal comes from the resin of the copal tree (Protium copal) and has an aromatic but slightly acrid scent.

An Ocumicho artisan, dressed in traditional Purépecha style. This woman was one of those we encountered in the church. She spotted us immediately as potential customers and quickly persuaded us to visit her nearby home in order to view her pottery creations. The local artisans, who appeared to be largely women, were friendly and not the least bit shy about button-holing stray tourists who might come their way. Since we had visited Ocumicho in good part because of its reputation for artisanship, we were an easy catch. She led us through a maze of ancient streets to her home. Most of the local artisan's work is not sold in Ocumicho itself, but in Zamora or other Michoacan cities. There are few places where the work is displayed. You must seek out the artisans, or let them find you. In our case, it didn't take long.

A grinning little devil revs up his motorcycle. Carole selected this little guy. On his front mudguard is a chicken and a basket of fresh eggs adorns the rear. Devil figures like this are a speciality of Ocumicho and have made the pueblo famous. Each figure is unique and made by hand by the artisan. Most are portrayed in a humorous manner. According to local legend, one day the devil came to Ocumicho and bothered everyone. He entered the trees and killed them. Locals dogs did nothing but shake and cry. He pursued people and made them sick and mad. Finally, someone had the idea of creating little devil figures so that Ocumicho could become a place where the devil could live without bothering anyone. Who created the first devil figure is a matter of some dispute. Some say it was a young man named Marcelino. Others claim it was a grandmother named Guadalupe Linares Margarita. Whoever it was, the local community has benefited greatly.

This little dragon-dog was my favourite. With his lolling tongue and happy face, I couldn't resist. He comes equipped with a pair of colorful wings, but I have yet to see him fly. This style of creature is called an alebrije. The style originated in Mexico City in the 1930s. when an artist named Pedro Linares created the first examples based on a dream. While sick with a fever, he hallucinated a forest filled with strange, unknown animals. All were crying out "alebrije!", a word which has no meaning in Spanish. He dubbed the creatures alebrijes and began to model them in cardboard and paper maché. His work became popular and the craze for alebrijes spread, eventually reaching the remote village of Ocumicho.

Another artisan displays her carved wooden devil mask. This one is very similar to the one I bought, seen in the first photo of this posting. The woman above is the cousin of the first artisan. She happened to be at her cousin's house when we came to examine the clay devils. As we left, she insisted that we come to see her ware too. That his how I ended up with my beautiful devil mask. The local artisans are nothing if not enterprising.

Reverse side of my Michoacan mask. This view shows how the wood was hollowed out to create a space for the wearer's face. The two small holes, located just above the eyeballs of the mask, allow the wearer to see through it. The ears and horns are inserted with dowels into holes and are removable to allow easy transport.

This completes Part 6 of my Zamora series. I hope you have enjoyed it and, if so, please leave any comments or questions in the Comments section below or email me directly. If you have a question, PLEASE leave your email address so that I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim