Three Days at a Mixteca Festival

Jupiter is one of my favorite planets to follow across the night sky. I like its colors and its moons. It shines very bright pulling my attention in whenever I am lucky enough to see it. I see it early this morning between the narrow south facing ally as I head to the van that will take me to an unknown place for an unknown adventure. 

Oaxaca City in southern Mexico is quiet and peacefully dark before 6am. The only inclination that night is coming to an end is the light chirping of unseen birds. An infrequent car passes as I walk quickly west across the old stone sidewalks of the city center. With my backpack, yoga mat, and camera clinging to me like bulky slightly disheveled clothing I pass the Zócalo (Central Park), Jupiter still overhead. 

It is nearly 6am and I need to find the camioneta (van) soon because it leaves at 6! Looking for the correct sign is confusing, so I check in the first large garage with a camioneta and a group of people getting in. It’s not the right one. I need auto transportes tlaxiaco, they gesture me down the street. Popping in and out of two more I’m getting worried and call my friend Ricardo. He says he’s at the van and comes out to the street. Friend and camioneta found we make ourselves as comfortable as possible in a full van for the early three-hour ride to Tlaxiaco. 

Tlaxiaco is bright with the early morning sun and the market is in full swing. Ricardo and I will find a colectivo (shared taxi) to a Mixteca area called Nuyoo but first breakfast! Tacos are the chosen option and we squeeze into the small crowded tables and colorful plastic stools to have our delicious meat filled tortillas. Lots of curious stares follow us as we head toward the colectivo. 

Two hours up a winding road that tuned into dirt and gravel for the second half we arrive at a small Mixteca town called Yucunino de Guerrero. The Mixteca people are an indigenous group in this area of Mexico. They have been here for a very long time and this community only started using Spanish as their main language in the 90s. Ricardo’s friend and coworker, Erik, is from here. Both young men have gone to school for anthropology and are very interested and engaged in local Mexican indigenous groups, currently working as anthropologists in Oaxaca city they are as exited as me to get out of town for the fiesta in this small community.

Yucunino

Bright fiesta flags are spread across the small dusty road through Yucunino. Lush green trees, grasses, flowers, the small community its vibrant and glowing in the afternoon sun. Ricardo and I drop off our backpacks at the professors’ house where we are staying and walk to the center of town to find his friend.

Relaxed and settled in, the professor, named Timoteo, tells us to follow him. We walk down the gravel road, with Mexican country music playing in the distance finding our way to a dramatic southern facing view of mountains windy roads and small towns dotting the expansive landscape. Although my Spanish is limited it’s clear Timoteo is peacefully proud of his land and where he is from. Life has a different pace here, like many small mountain towns. Timoteo shows us his tomatoes and his goats. We stop by a friends house for a beer outside on the grass. When addressing his friend, Timoteo speaks in Mixteca, which is vastly different from Spanish, English, or any language I am familiar with.

Cutting up a trail to skip the road, passing a burro that closely watches us as we pass, we come into a bright green garden with small wood buildings. Here, Timoteo offers Ricardo and me pulque. Pulque is a delicious white liquid made from the fermented water of the maguey plant (similar to the agave used for tequila). These alien-like plants can be very large with long sharp arms stretching upwards like a hungry sea creature. Refreshingly sweet and tangy, pulque is an ancient drink that historically was only for priests, rulers, sick, and elderly. The small amount of alcohol in pulque still has an effect and my head feels light but clear in this nature filled community. Sounds have a vividness that reflects the fresh mountain air and comfortable sunny afternoon. A chicken seems comfortably unaware, nearly pecking its way between my outstretched legs sitting against the small wooden building in the high Mixteca town, Yucunino.

A long day of travel turns into a relaxing afternoon and evening. My friend and I have dinner with Timoteo while his wife constantly tends the fire and food on a stone and mortar, wood heated, cooking area. Spicy tomato based sauce is very delicious and has a secret ingredient that is a little tree dwelling bug, fried salted and mashed up with the fresh tomatoes. Later I get a chance to try the fresh critter and it has a surprising tartness that is unlike anything I know. Excellent for spicing up sauce and from what I hear a painkiller. Finished with dinner and coffee we make for bed soon. Tomorrow is a big day involving a cave and preparation for the fiesta.

A cool moonless night fills up with millions of stars. Music in the distance quiets down to the chirp of crickets and an occasional barking of a dog. Sleep takes me quickly to strange dreams as my solidness of the day decompresses into the hug of the night.

Adventures in Yucunino Day 2

Speaking in rapid Spanish Eric turns on the light as he enters the room. It is still the middle of the night I think. Or is it early morning. Pitch black outside and no clocks in the small wooden room it is hard to tell. Foggy with sleep and the transition of consciousness it’s hard to tell what world I’m in. Eric goes and so does the light. I shut my eyes and sleep finds me without searching.

Sun is trickling through the lines between the boards of the small wooden room. Did we miss our wake up call? We had talked about watching the sunrise from the ridge of a nearby mountain. 

I find myself in Yucunino, a small Mixteca Pueblo high up in the mountains of Northwest Oaxaca. Really high. Almost 9,000 feet with the surrounding peaks reaching up to 10,000 (over 3,000 meters). My friend and I are visiting for the weekend to join the celebration of a local Mayordomo festival. Luckily for us my friends coworker is from here, and the family has space for us to stay. It is beautiful and serene looking through the east-facing window of the simple wooden room. Clear blue sky with cool mountain air. Calm morning sounds surround me with a peacefulness that reminds me of my time on an apple orchard in Washington State last fall. Today we missed the sunrise but there are rumors of a cave with an ancient pot, and of course the tangy depth of the traditional beverage pulque lingers in the back of my head from yesterday.*

Excited about being in this small rural community Ricardo and I go to find his friend, Eric, and some breakfast. We are lucky. The locals here are preparing for the festival, everyday making a feast of different local foods that seem to be available throughout the day in giant metal pots over hot wood fuelled fires.

Cava De Olla

Again, Erik’s father, Timoteo the professor, is willing to show us around.  Timoteo takes my friend and I, along with a girl’s basketball team on a surreal adventure to the cave with the pot. A little confused by the unusual group joining us I learn that a basketball tournament, concert, fiesta, and other activities are all occurring this weekend in Yucunino. The town is buzzing to say the least. The single dirt road through town has cars, people, and fiesta flags waving, calling, and beeping while we make our way down towards the cave. Off the road we turn into a small bushy trail covered in pine needles. Slippery with the needles our unusual group continues down this steep path through thick foliage breaking through into small patches of vegetables, or grass for grazing farm animals. Viewpoints of the sweeping valleys reveal themselves from time to time with other small communities dotting the vast landscape.

Erik and Timoteo show us a fern containing the spicy little bug that can be cooked, salted, and used in salsa. Creating much laughter, and chatter, and dares to eat the wiggly little insects. Of course I do. The flavor is strong and unusual, but I chase with water, and again some more water. I think I prefer it cooked, salted, and in sauce like we had the night before. 

Past a rattling rock, containing an unseen rattlesnake, we continue down some more until we arrive at a gate. Through the gate and around a rock opens the cave. Into it we climb with our hands, feet, and knees, as it is steep with lose dirt and rock at the entrance. Down 20, 30, maybe 40 feet the light of day easily illuminates the initial decent. A gaping opening about fifteen feet wide ascends into darkness. Small slippery steps cut into the floor. The dampness that surrounds this opening is like that dampness of all holes in the ground. Cool, humid, with a natural dirt smell. The fast causal chatter of our unusual group sounds excited and maybe a little anxious. In Spanish I cannot make out too many words but it feels different then before. Eric and Timoteo usher eight of us into the darkness and begin to explain.

In this small dark cavern we surround a medium sized pot full of clear water. Quietness fills the darkness and a single drip of water into this pot is making loud reverberations off the walls. The pot is old, very old. The first records are Spanish, from the 1600s but it was here before them. A place of history and connection for the local people. We all drink from a small wooden cup the mineral rich, crystal clear water. It is rich and fresh. I feel calm, focused, rejuvenated; climbing out of the dark earthy cavern up the hill, back to Yucunino. 

Pulque greets us again and we drink deeply from plastic bowls. Happy and calm, another peaceful afternoon meanders by in Yucunino, this small Mixteca Pueblo. Relaxed countryside with the distant sound of music and farm animals I feel a detached tranquility. A little foggy from the pulque and altitude, sitting outside of a small traditionally built wood house, the breeze on my face, lost in the distant mountain scenery. Little do I know the loud dancing excitement that is in store the following day.

Festival Day 3

Alcohol and firecrackers start our last day in Yucunino. It is the day of the Mayordomia festival, celebrating the saint of the town with a procession. Our gracious host has asked if we will participate by wearing the Marmota costumes during the parade. Shyly agreeing we try to shake our nerves with breakfast beers. Followed by a few more before lunch.

The day is loud, hot, and full. Locals dressed up in traditional clothing. Bands are playing, practicing, and setting up. No longer making me duck for cover, the loud explosive firecrackers that apparently are popular in every corner of Mexico (at least very thoroughly in all the areas I went) frequently shake the skies and my eardrums from overhead. 

Lots of laughter accompany Ricardo and I while we step into the strange giant suits of the Marmota’s. Timoteo wearing his parade mask, that is some type of demon, cracks a whip and the band plays on louder. The cacophony of sound is complete and encompassing. Detached I peer through the triangle hole as the top half of the body encloses me. Resting on my shoulders, the giant bamboo framed body isn’t heavy but an hour or two of dancing might change my mind. A couple practice steps and body spins, and we are off. Lead by Timoteo in the wooden demon mask and the official pyrotechnic who keeps a steady pace of overhead explosions, the giant Marmota’s follow. Down the dusty road from the church to town. Closer to the center and our first parade shots are taken, I think it’s tepache. Further on and I can feel the dripping of sweat down my spine. Another shot of tepache. A shuffling crouch under the low strung lines (I hope phone and not power) we enter the basketball court. The bands loud horns and drums fill the reverberating space creating a tremendous roar. 

This shot was whiskey. How long have I been walking? Do we take a break down here or keep going? Faces appear and disappear before me. Hot, and a little drunk I feel myself laughing openly about the strangeness of it all. From time to time I see a familiar face and feel reassured that I am still here. Still connected to the ground. Still me inside of a large bamboo body, in a small Mixteca town, in the high Oaxacan mountains. 

Stepping and stomping frantically I attempt to put the rest of my tired, sweaty, drunken energy into the dancing whirling spectacle of the giant body I am wearing.  Large white pants up to my shoulders meet the upper half of the human like structure I am inside of. Holding tightly to the bamboo bars resting on my shoulders I try not to topple over while swaying to loud horns and drums outside. It has been nearly two hours of parading around Yucunino with occasional breaks to drink a variety of alcohol that appear before the small triangular opening for me to see though. Mostly tepache and whisky, I prefer the pineapple sweetness of tepache a locally made alcohol, to the harsh taste of whiskey. Ricardo, my friend that brought me here shouts, “todo bien”, which I usually reply, “perfecto” or “bien, bien, y tu”, we check on each other’s survival. He is spinning next to me in another large body that is not his own. 

A song ends with explosions overhead and a crash of cymbals. The body comes off. Greeted by more shots in small bamboo shot cups and smiles, we take a seat. We are finished. It feels a little as if we’ve accomplished some challenging feat, and hopefully earned some respect, or at least appreciation. Still early afternoon there will be another ceremony in the church, more basketball games, dancing, and a concert in the evening. After more food and water though, the alcohol and exhaustion pull me towards the quiet wooden room for a nap. 

Photographs from Yucunino, Oaxaca Mexico.