At 9:35am we set out in Raul's VW van (which he's had for 20 years). In 15 minutes we arrived in San Juan Chamula, about 10 km. west of San Cristobal. Raul had about 8 passengers. The other group of 8 or so went in 2 taxis, dispatched by César. We parked in a lot well above the center of town, and divided into two groups: the Spanish speakers with Raul, and the English group with César. We only occasionally saw the English group after that.
From the parking lot we could see the church and the plaza, filled with people and color. The fireworks were going off in clusters: a long series of blasts, then a rest of 5 minutes, then more blasts. We could see the rockets smoke as they went up, and the bursts of smoke at the top. Even more smoke, sometimes filling the plaza, accompanied the bombs that went off on or near the ground. In front of us, adjacent to the parking lot, was the cemetery (one of 3), accompanied by the burned-out church. The crosses (sometimes 3 to a grave) indicated the age of the buried: white for children, black for elders, blue for adults. Many of the graves had flowers, often alcatraces (Calla lilies). Others had thick coverings of fresh pine boughs. Some had cyclone fencing to keep the sheep from eating the flowers - richer families. (The sheep are revered "like the cattle in India" according to Raul. In fact, sheep herding and wool products are a major industry in Chamula. The men's trademark tunics are shaggy wool, white or black.) The times of burial are chosen according to the age of the deceased: in order to use the momentum of the sun in the day for entering the afterlife, all are buried after noon - the youngest early in the afternoon, the oldest after sundown.
We got a quick lecture here at the cemetery from Raul, explaining basics: the Chamula "authorities" come in three groups: (1) religious, (2) civil, and (3) traditional. Raul was anxious to make the point that life in Chamula is very dignified, not at all a matter of poverty. He explained that the people of Chamula go to great lengths to preserve their heritage. The land is all ejido, communally owned, and rights to a particular parcel are passed from father to son. No males from outside are allowed to move into the community. Women, however, may move in by marrying a man from Chamula. Raul wanted also to point out that many Chamula women go barefoot for the sake of tradition. They often might have gold decorative dental work (with hearts and stars), costing $700pesos or more, while shoes cost only $40pesos. Raul frequently pointed out the ways in which the indigenous people were not really poor. At other times, he occasionally commented on the problem of overpopulation, with explicit references to resulting poverty. The main problems Raul sees are: too many children, and too much alcoholism. Others have told us that Chamula and Zinacantan, with their cherished autonomy, are actually atypical: most indigenous towns and villages are indeed much poorer.
Raul explained that we must be careful about photographs. The most important rule is not to photograph the authorities. He ridiculed the warnings (which he suggested were spread by Na Bolom or others wanting to sell guided tours) that tourists had been killed for taking photos. He said it was really quite simple: if you make a mistake and take a photo that is forbidden, just take out the film and give it to the civil authority who caught you. No problem. Later, he warned us when to put away cameras, and also gave us permission when we could take photos. Another important principle he mentioned was: take photos from a distance, never take a photo of a person up close.
San Juan Chamula is completely autonomous. They have their own justice, judges, jails, councils, rules. If a (serious; probably only murder) crime is committed that breaks Mexican law, the Chamula civil authorities hand over the prisoner to other Chamulan authorities ("Peace and Justice") that form a liaison with the Mexican justice system. Otherwise, all justice is administered within the community. Chamula does not recognize traditional marriage - instead there is a year-by-year contract between husband and wife. A man might have 3 wives. Raul joked that this reduces the workload of the women. Each wife might have 7 children. Typical age of marriage is 13. If a couple splits up - not renewing the contract - the children go with the mother. The father is obligated to support the children. If not, the local civil authorities put him in jail. The communal life in Chamula is all-encompassing. There is no room for individual autonomy, if it threatens community traditions and values. There is only one church, only one party. Some Chamulans have been converted by Evangelical protestants; they are forced to leave the community.
The church in Chamula is nominally Catholic. Periodically a priest from the Tuxtla Gutierrez diocese comes out to do baptisms. That is the ONLY Catholic sacrament observed in the Chamula church. However the Chamula church is the center of the universe for the Chamulans. There is no marriage, no confession, no confirmation, no mass. But there is an astonishing, overwhelming chaos of activity in the church. The Chamula church went 300 years before a diocese would accept it. Priests from other churches (San Cristobal, for example) are not welcome here.
We observed from various points in the plaza the procession that was in progress for today's fiesta of San Sebastian. Authorities carried flags around the plaza, followed by other authorities (mayordomos) who carried their saints. They were attended by bands of helpers, all in ceremonial dress. The saints processed around the plaza, to the accompaniment of musicians, who were mostly drowned out by the fireworks. After some rounds of the plaza, the saints were carried into the church. Then the authorities with the flags circled the plaza 3 more times, pausing at cardinal points for more deafening fireworks. Meanwhile, other groups of civil authorities (with their batons) and religious authorities (with sonajas -- rattles) observed from various vantage points - including a bandstand. There were both men and women authorities parading - although it is the man that is the selected authority: his wife becomes an authority automatically. Some of the authority wives were gathered under a roof near the church, observing. They were of varying ages. The ribbons they wore represented whether they were connected with one, two, or three neighborhood associations (one, two, or three colors in the ribbons). The plaza was filled with people watching and often drinking or eating. There may have been 3 or 4,000 people around the entire downtown participating. Raul said that over 50,000 will be there for Carnival, which begins Feb. 8.
While the saints were in the church, and the authorities were inside performing whatever rituals, Raul took us to one of the houses of the mayordomos: the house of San Mateo. We sat on benches along the walls - where the authorities would soon be sitting, when they finished the ritual in the church. Meanwhile, one of the 4 prayers per day was going on in the San Marcos mayordomo house. Several women were chanting the prayer, asking blessings for all, in Tzotzil (the language of both Chamula and Zinacantán, as well as other towns nearby). We couldn't see them: they were behind a curtain of orchids, brought from the mountains, where the seeds for the orchids are carefully replanted. In front of the curtain was a small altar, with a dish where we contributed coins as we left. But the altar mainly contained incense burners and candles. The candles are placed in bull-shaped pottery holders, three candles per holder. Three is a critical number: representing: (Father, Mother, child), (San Juan, San Pedro, San Mateo or San Salvador or Jesus Christ), (Sun, Moon, Jesus Christ). The bull represents protection - it is one of the 13 animals (one for every month in the Mayan calendar) revered by Mayans. There was also incense (copal) smoke pouring out from behind the orchid curtain. At one point, two men carrying more large incense burners came in and added them to the altar. We could barely see, and almost could not breathe. There was no light in the room except from the candles. Throughout, Raul was telling us more about the authorities and their practices. Each saint has its house, with two couples as mayordomos for the year. The man becomes mayordomo by reserving a year, 25 or 30 years in advance. If he dies in the meantime, his eldest son inherits the duty. The duty lasts all year, during which each of the two couples alternates, 20 days at a time, living in the mayordomo house. The other 20 days, they get to go home (perhaps 25 km away) and tend to their animals and crops. The mayordomo pays for all the expenses of the year associated with this saint. It can easily run $50,000pesos or more for the year. Often loans are required, but there is no subsidy. Raul said there are proposals for the government to add a subsidy (say $20,000pesos) to help the mayordomos. However, there is much concern that this will foul up the system. I'm surprised the Chamulans would even consider this intervention, since they are so opposed to outside influence of every type. There are also other religious authority positions which are open to women, whether married or not.
However, Raul pointed out that the Chamulans do in fact accept and incorporate what they find useful. For example, they consume huge amounts of Coca Cola and Pepsi. Two of the most prominent buildings facing the plaza have big Coca Cola and Pepsi signs on their roofs. This is because they believe burping expels evil spirits - so they drink soda to make them burp (replacing an older homemade lemon drink which was less effective).
Raul asked one of the young women in the mayordomo house to bring us a glass of Posh, the Chamulan powerful cane-alcohol beverage (38% alcohol). We passed it around to taste it - there were about 10 of us (the 7 in our Spanish group had been joined by 3 young women from Argentina), and it went around twice before we finished it, even though it was no more than 3 ounces. Raul said that the normal ration is 3 of these: one for San Juan, one for San Pablo, one for San Mateo. He joked that after 3, you would be senseless. And then he added that the point is not to be drunk, but to revere the saints. Of course he was also pointing out continually that the saints should be taken syncretistically - they represent Mayan gods as well as the Catholic saints. Posh is made only in Chamula, but they sell it to other nearby towns. It is illegal in San Cristobal.
When we left the mayordomo house, we entered the church. It was filled with people - several hundred, perhaps a thousand. It was dark and smoke-filled, lit by thousands of candles. Near the front was a crowd, behind a barrier, engaged in a baptism ceremony. A Tuxtla priest was baptizing one after another infant. After each baptism, the parents would take the child up to the front altar to introduce him to San Sebastian, and mention that the child is now under his care. After passing the baptism crowd, to the right of the entrance, we wound our way through clusters of other crowds. Some were sitting on the floor in groups. Others were kneeling in front of saints mounted on the walls. Others were approaching the saint representations that were standing on their carrying stands, after parading around the plaza. Almost all the saints have small mirrors (one, two, or three) hanging on them to reflect away evil spirits. On the walls are glass enclosures with representations, and names, of many saints. Often there will be two - "San Pablo mayor" and "San Pablo menor" - so that if one is busy, a supplicant can approach the other. The floor of the church is covered with bunches of green pine needles, providing a lovely smell. Of course there is lots of copal incense burning as well, not to mention the candles. The candles are mostly white, with a few red and black in some places. They are of varying heights, from about 2 inches up to 20 inches or so. All very thin. They are placed in neat, perfect rows on the floor. Each bottom is briefly heated, and thus sticks to the tile floor. Throughout the church there are clusters of these neat rows of candles, all in order amongst the chaos. And each set of rows of candles is attended by one or more people, performing some ritual. Toward the front of the church, between the large saints that are resting from being carried around the plaza, and the altar, with San Sebastian above, is an area filled with "Ilol" - curanderos (folk healers). They each are working with their candles, and also possibly using other materials - eggs or copal - to do their purifications on people who have come for their help. Here there were some rows which included red or black candles: Raul explained that they are required if the sickness is more serious. As we were watching the Ilol activity, a huge succession of fireworks began outside in the plaza. It was noon - the most important time of day.
As we threaded our way out of the church, a drunken Chamulan attached himself to Raul. He was hanging on forcefully to Raul's arm. He was one of the seemingly hundreds of friends Raul greeted during our visits to Chamula and Zinacantán. Quite a few of them were drunk. But this one was the only one who was drunk and disorderly. He was insisting that Raul join him to drink Posh. When Raul (as gracefully as possible under the trying circumstances) refused, he became quite angry. Just outside the church, another Chamulan - a civil authority - tried to restrain him, but he broke away to chase after Raul. Raul gathered us and told us we would reconvene at 12:30 under the big clock on the building facing the market (about 25 minutes hence). Thus Raul, unencumbered by us, was able to escape his pursuer, who was finally restrained by the civil authority. We wandered about the plaza and the adjoining market, and took a few discreet photos.
We returned to the parking lot, walking back up the hill. We lost the Argentinians along the way - but they did catch up to us later in Zinacantán. With just our Spanish group now in the VW minibus, we made our way some 8km over the mountain pass into Zinacantán. There was a big fiesta going on there also - in the plaza downhill from the main Catholic church. We drove through the crowd, and went first up to the main plaza. We visited the San Lorenzo Church, which fronts on the usual Mayan plaza (with educational institutions on one side, health on another, and government on a third). The plaza was completely deserted. Only a few people were in the church. We visited the chapels in the church: San Sebastian and Esquipulas. The entire feel was much more like a traditional Catholic church. Raul pointed out the flowers decorating the church in front and along the walls - flowers placed by the men of Zinacantán. He said the women might have some suggestions to make, but the men do the decoration. In Chamula, on the other hand, the women direct the placement of the flowers, and the men carry out their orders.
From the San Lorenzo Church, we walked through empty streets to the home of a local family that Raul is friendly with. We entered the large (perhaps 20'x25') main room of the house directly from the street. Raul encouraged us to sit down on the two beds - each consisting of solid wooden platforms with thin blanket padding. The floor was dirt, very hardened and rough. Between the beds was the traditional altar. At the other end of the room was the "modern altar" - with TV and stereo. The ceiling was hung with plastic. Raul explained that the mother and father sleep with one baby behind a curtain. The 3 girls sleep in one bed, the 3 boys in the other. There is no heat - except for an occasional charcoal brazier placed in the middle of the floor. So sleeping several to a bed has warmth advantages. We then went outside in the back, to the kitchen. Under a shed roof, there was a fire with a comal (sheet griddle) over it, and a girl making tortillas. We were invited to try the tortillas, and Raul pointed out that we could take photos here. So we did. Then we moved even further outside, to the back where the garden was. Another girl was demonstrating her weaving technique with a strap loom. We watched and photographed her. We were invited to buy some of the weavings hanging about in the garden and a shed. There were 8 or 9 girls and women of varying ages, including one elder. Some of the group did purchase weavings.
Raul made the point that in Zinacantán, the nuclear family is much more important than in Chamula. Marriage is consecrated in the church, and there are often fewer children per woman than in Chamula, the result of better education. Raul was critical of the education in Chamula, where the teachers may not be as well trained, because they must be above all immersed in the community traditions.
Next we made our way, back in the van, to park near the actual fiesta. We still had a way to walk, and as we got within a block, Raul said we should take photos here, and no more when we got closer. We toured the plaza, which was filled with people, as the one in Chamula had been. Of course, the attire was very different. The principal product of Zinacantán is flowers. So the tunics of the men and shawls of the women are elaborately decorated with floral designs. The colors of the crowd are harmonious, but intense. The older men still wear the traditional flat straw hats with elaborate ribbon decorations. And many, especially the authorities, wear a large handkerchief with colorful tassels on the four corners. They may wear it as a shawl, or as a headdress in various forms (all demonstrated impressively by Raul) with each arrangement having a different significance. Raul pointed out once again the various authorities, with their distinctive dress. We saw several men costumed as jaguars and others as some kind of bird-man (with an ear of corn in the beak, which appeared as part of the headdress). We also saw a man in black-face who was to climb a bare tree placed in the plaza for the celebration. Another group were masked and dressed to look almost clownlike. While musicians played, this group performed a dance very similar to that of the Chinelos that we witnessed in Tepoztlan two years ago. After they danced, they then ran off in a group around the plaza. Another group was preparing another dance, representing a couple about to wed. They had the full wedding-day costumes, although they were not young. More amazing, the woman of the couple was actually a man, dressed in a woman's wedding finery.
We visited the church in this plaza, which was a very refined and tame version of the Chamula church. The floor had a thick covering of fresh pine-needles. It was dark, lit only by candles. It was clearly devoted to the Mayan approach to ritual, as distinct from the San Lorenzo church up the hill which was more Catholic. However, the scene was very calm and uncrowded, almost tranquil in comparison with the Chamula church.
As we walked up the long plaza leaving the church, Raul asked if we wanted to stop for a drink. But since we were now over an hour late, compared to the expected 2pm return time, we agreed to go back to San Cristobal instead. Hunger was a major factor. Raul said we were far enough away now to photograph again. This time, our young Argentinian friends succeeded in staying with us to ride back in the van. One of them produced a portable kit for making maté (the official drink of Argentina): the usual small gourd cup and metal strainer/straw, along with a thermos of still-hot water and a plastic jar of the dried grass itself. She performed the ritual and passed the maté around for all to share, as we rode back to San Cristobal. We arrived at the Zocalo at about 3:25, and hurried off to the Cafeteria Central for la comida.