Excitement and Spectacle

The Guelaguetza festival in Oaxaca, Mexico, is an exhilarating experience and a fantastic photographic opportunity. This major annual event showcases the rich cultural diversity of Oaxaca's eight regions through traditional music, dance, food, and artisanal crafts. The festivities span about two weeks at the end of July, featuring numerous activities. My wife Amy and I particularly enjoy the massive “calenda,” or parade, that winds through the streets of Oaxaca Centro.

Unfortunately, we missed the first of the two big parades last weekend. As we prepared to drive from our village into town yesterday, clouds began to gather, and a light sprinkle of rain fell. This being our wet season, I wondered if the parade would be drenched.

Despite the weather, we decided to go. The parade was scheduled to start at 5 PM, so we left around 4, planning to arrive at our viewing spot fifteen minutes before the swirling dancers, brass and percussion bands, puppets, and other participants would pass by. It continued to drizzle as we drove, and approaching the Centro district, we got stuck in a traffic jam, barely inching forward. Meanwhile, the parade had already begun. Amy suggested we turn back, thinking it might be a wasted effort. However, we had come this far, so we decided to stay in the slow-moving lines of cars, our windshield wipers slowly slapping time. I resolved to head to where the parade would finish since we would miss the start. The route spans about a mile.

The unusual amount of traffic puzzled us until we realized it must be due to the festival. To our dismay, the police had blocked off some streets as we arrived. Nevertheless, I managed to navigate us to the area where the parade would end. The streets were extremely crowded, making parking a challenge. Eventually, I turned up a little cobblestone street. By this time, dusk was approaching, and the sky was overcast. As I drove slowly forward, I hit an unseen hole. Crunch! The car lurched with a terrible noise. This was worse than the usual for the often rough streets and sidewalks. We parked about twenty feet further along. I was upset, Amy was disheartened, and it was still sprinkling. But we needed to find the parade.

We walked about five blocks, sometimes sharing our one umbrella. The rain wasn't heavy, so I accepted getting slightly wet. A huge crowd had gathered at the corner where the parade would soon arrive and make a turn. We could get no closer than about four people back, blocked by a solid mass of humanity. Both sides of the festive streets were filled with families, some children perched atop their father's shoulders. Plenty of umbrellas were open and held aloft.

When the parade arrived, the atmosphere exploded with jubilation. Fireworks burst overhead, bands played energetically, dancers swirled in native costumes, and women with long black braids danced gracefully. Revelers shouted, "¡Viva Oaxaca!" Candy was thrown into the crowd. From behind people, I could barely see, and Amy even less, but the excitement and spectacle were palpable. Looking behind us, an old woman, much shorter than Amy looked helplessly. And there were more people behind her. We stayed for about twenty minutes before deciding to leave.

One of our favorite restaurants was nearby, so we ended up there for dinner before heading home. Thankfully, our car seemed to have weathered the hit. In the end, we felt peculiarly satisfied and agreed that next year, we would arrive much earlier.

Summoned to a Reckoning

Vanitas, Noche Encantada, oil on linen, 30 x 40 inches (completed 12/25/2022)

In my recent painting, streaking comets represent the brevity of life. Clouds drifting past the half full moon indicate mystery, and how light of knowledge is obscured. The skeleton blowing the trumpet makes an announcement of death. Two other skeletons dance happily. They are dead and testify happiness exists in the next world too. The lone skeleton on the right is the observer representing reflection. The church setting is from where I live in Oaxaca, Mexico. It is the Santo Domingo church⏤centerpiece of the city. A church represents devotion, spirituality, the connection between earth and heaven.

Lastly, at the foot of the trumpet player, a dog, man’s loyal companion, is looking on with great attention. The breed is xoloitzcuintli. Amy and I have one. “According to Aztec belief, the Xoloitzcuintle dog, whose history dates 3,500 years, was created by Xolotl, god of death, to protect the living and guide the souls of the deceased through Mictlán, the underworld or the city of the dead. The most important function that the Xoloitzcuintles were believed to fulfill was to help the souls cross a deep and mighty river that crosses the Mictlán.” ⏤Mexico Daily Post (see an article for more about Xoloitzcuintles)

“O Son of Being! Bring thyself to account each day ere thou art summoned to a reckoning; for death, unheralded, shall come upon thee and thou shalt be called to give account for thy deeds.”  —The Hidden Words of Baha’u'llah”

Last night was New Years Eve. I walked out on our roof veranda just at midnight as the valley where our house in the village of San Pedro Ixtlahuaca shook with reverberations.

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2023

Fireworks for the Virgen

 

We are almost getting accustomed to explosions in the air. At all times of day or night. Rockets that whistle up into the sky and then explode into a puff of smoke, causing deafening shock waves, bursting through silence, like a rock thrown into a pond sending ripples outward. 

Mexico sees more than 5000 traditional festivals and events celebrated each year. And then there are birthdays, weddings, and such.

If transplanted foreigners complain, they are often rebuffed for attempting to interfere with cultural tradition.

Last night Amy and I went with our neighbors to an event in our pueblo barrio. Three days in remembrance of the " Virgen Patrona” of our village, La Soledad. We arrived around 8 PM to a compound with a small capilla, or church. Food was being served and an enormous construction rose from the center of the grounds. 100 feet in the air, it had multiple arms attached with wheels that were able to spin. 

We stayed close to our friends, and mingled a bit. A brass and percussion band played off and on. Not many people had arrived. After an hour, Amy decided to go back home when our friends daughter decided to leave . Amy has been trying to recover from an injury to her ankles and leg. I stayed on, determined to witness the spectacle about to unfold and take photographs. It took awhile, but around 10 PM, music became more strident and young men began coming into the arena with papier-mache bulls, "toritos", loaded with fireworks. It became a game of tug of war to see who could arrest control of the bull. All the while it was exploding. At one point my neighbor came to pull me back and tell me it was dangerous.

Eventually, the arena was crowded and someone climbed up the scaffolding to light the big structure and set the explosions off. It cackled, whirled, sparked and spun. Everyone was dazzled.