Wednesday, November 7, 2018

What is, to me, Dia de Muertos, estilo Oaxaqueño

To be honest, a major factor favoring Oaxaca as the place we would live was the strength of Oaxaca's cultural ties to Día de Muertos. And, as such, Oaxaca did not disappoint. We attended only the merest fraction of events and happenings that revolve around the celebration of Día de Muertos (which is
actually two days, and morever, is celebrated for about a week in Oaxaca)-- simply because there are so, so, so very many and because many of them happen at the same time in the evening and sadly, I cannot be in two places at one time. But what we did manage to experience was -- well, kind of not even able to describe or use enough superlatives! Awe-inspiring. Awesome. Amazing. Creative. Deeply touching. Life-altering. Death-altering. Whatever words you can come up with, they probably fits.

Here are some pictures and a few words to illustrate:

What was (is) Día de Muertos in Oaxaca, for me, to me?

Día de Muertos is a celebration of life.
There are some somber facets of the holiday but mostly, Oaxaqueños are celebrating life, in all its brief glory. It's a celebration of the love we have for each other, for our family, our friends, our loves.



Día de Muertos is walking hand in hand with death. 
Knowing and directly facing that death happens to us all, not shying away from that reality but remembering it. Welcoming death and the dead. It is walking that dark path, not quite knowing where it goes but knowing you aren't alone, love goes with you Death and life together, linked forever.
 


Día de Muertos is creativity and color.
Oaxaca is of course renowned for both these things, and both come out in full force for muertos.



Día de Muertos is irreverant.
There's a kind of silliness, a kind of winking acknowledgement that it's okay to laugh in the face of death.







Finally,
Día de Muertos is light in the darkness.
The darkness comes a little sooner these days. And the days are darker metaphorically as well. But there is light in the darkness. There is no light without dark and no dark without light.








Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Thalia talks Dia de Muertos

Hey everyone! It's Thalia again. It's been so long that I thought I should write another post!

So today's topic is Día de Muertos. It is pretty much the same as Day of the Dead. If you don't know what either of those things are, here's a brief explanation; Día de Muertos is a holiday to celebrate all our loved ones who have passed away. It is a traditional belief that on the first and second of November and around that time (it's NOT one of those holidays that last one day) the people who have died come back to visit at that time. If you have seen the movie coco, it describes a little bit more.


OFRENDAS:
An ofrenda is  the Spanish word for altar.
Ofrendas are a ginourmus part of Día de Muertos. It's pretty much a place where you put up all the pictures of your loved ones. Going along with what I said earlier, you also put out the foods that they liked, things that they made, ect. For example, one of my grandfathers really liked Hershey almond chocolate bars. So that goes on the altar. My other grandfather really loved black licorice and jelly beans. That goes on too. You get the idea...

a sugar skull that is painted wood instead of sugar

actual sugar skull made out of sugar

SUGAR SKULLS: Sugar skulls are also put on ofrendas. (and no, they are not meant for eating) They are a really unique part of Day of the Dead.


Cempasúchil flowers lining the Calzada de Muertos (aka Calle Garcia Vigil)












Cempasúchil on our ofrenda




CEMPASÚCHIL: Cempasúchil is the nahuatl word for marigolds. They are also a really big part of Day of the Dead. They are meant to guide the spirits. They are also put on ofrendas and in the streets.









MY ALTARS THIS YEAR: This year my family and I set up two ofrendas. One for family and family of friends, and one ofrenda for all the people
our ofrenda for Auntie Re (Aretha Franklin), Frida Kahlo, heroes de Mexico, our ofrendas don't have food yet because the cat will eat it! So we save it for Nov 1, 2

our ofrenda for loved ones, including Moose, Lucy, Raz, Grandpere, Papa, Uncle Beau, Estelle, and Lila
that we never really knew but still deserve to be on the ofrenda, such as Benito Juárez, Frida Khalo, and lots of heroes of Méxican independence, revolution, and more.

HOW TO MAKE YOUR OWN MINI OFRENDA:
This year, since we didn't have all our decorations for our  ofrenda, my mom and I made some by hands. Here are some simple crafts you can make if you would like to make a little small ofrenda of your own.
SET UP:
To set up your mini altar, you will obviously need some space.
1- Cover your ofrenda space with some tissue paper or colorful fabric.
2- If you want to layer or tiers, cover some shoeboxes or other boxes with your fabric or paper.
FOR THE PICTURES:
1- Print and cut out some photos of some of the people that you love that have passed away.
2- Cut out some cardboard and glue on the photos.
3-Only if you want, you can decorate the photos with markers, glitter, decorative tape or stickers. And if you want, you can make your cardboard a little bigger than the photo to have more room to decorate.
TO FINISH YOUR MINI OFRENDA:
Find some things that your people on your ofrenda liked, such as food.


PRONOUNCIATION GUIDE:
OFRENDA- ( oh- friend- uh)
DÍA DE MUERTOS- ( dee-uh  de  mu- wear- toes)
CEMPASUCHIL- (sem - pa - soo- cheel)

Pictures of other ofrendas:

the ofrenda at my school, Instituto San Felipe



magna comparsa = magna artistry

Some of my fotos from my favorite moments during the Magna Comparsa, Inicio de Muertos en Oaxaca de Juárez. I tried to highlight all the artistry and creativity that was on display that night- in face makeup, in puppets, and stilt walkers, in traditional clothing, adapted for Dia de Muertos, in music (although you can't hear it) and other things that don't quite fall into any category known to me... As usual, Oaxaca and Oaxaqueñxs astound and awe.

Check out Vive Oaxaca's video of the comparsa to get another sense of what it was like:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSocZ0OEnsg








Monday, October 29, 2018

About Mezcal (nerdy post by Eric)



In our 3 months or so in Oaxaca, I’ve learned many things.  But mezcal is definitely one of the things I’ve learned the most about while here.  Mezcal is an extremely important part of the culture of Oaxaca, one of the things Oaxaqueños are most proud of about their state, and one of the ‘hottest’ exports from Oaxaca in the rest of the world right now (for better and worse).

But mezcal is a confoundingly complicated spirit.  The variety of magueys (what ‘agave’ is typically called here) used in mezcal is very very large; the complications of methods of production; the variations based on ‘terroir’ or location are, well, complex.  One could spend years sampling mezcal and still only have scratched the surface.  But I’m scratching away, day by day! 

The main thing I want to talk about today is labeling.  Mezcal has a “DOC”-type regulatory agency and “mezcal” is thus a protected mark worldwide.  But importantly, there are 3 types of officially regulated mezcal, with one other type that’s possibly even more important.

First, there’s “mezcal.”  This is the most industrial, and thus generally the lowest-quality mezcal you will find.  Unfortunately, it’s also the most common, especially in export markets like the USA.  Anything that’s labeled “mezcal” (as opposed to the other two types below) is unlikely to be very good.  It might be fine for mixing in cocktails (something which is traditionally unheard of here, but is gaining a foothold nowadays), but it’s certainly nothing you would want to sip like a good mezcal, and it shouldn’t cost very much.  More unfortunately, at least here in Oaxaca, the authorities don’t really police what ELSE the bottle can say—I’ve seen many bottles which (to me) seem to be trying to trick the consumer into thinking they’re in one of the other categories.  “Tradición Artesanal,” (as in the lousy bottle pictured above) etc., mean, as best I can figure, absolutely nothing.  Unless the bottles says “Mezcal Artesanal,” it is NOT artisanal mezcal in any meaningful sense.

The second category is Mezcal Artesanal and the third category is Mezcal Ancestral.  These two categories have fairly small and fairly insignificant differences between them—that is to say, fantastically awesome mezcal can fall into either category, and just because something is Mezcal Ancestral doesn’t make it better or higher quality than Mezcal Artesanal.  The main differences are: Mezcal Artesanal can be distilled with either a copper or ceramic still, while Ancestral can only use pottery; Mezcal Artesanal can use horses or even tractors to run the mill that crushes the cooked piña, while Ancestral can only use human-powered means (mostly wooden mallets) to crush the cooked maguey.  There are a couple of other minor differences between these two categories, but those are the main ones.

There is a third category, more common here in Oaxaca and Mexico generally than in export markets, which is mezcal which hasn’t gone through the (complicated expensive) certification process at all.  It is generally labeled (to the extent it has a label; one may also find it in reused plastic soda bottles!) as “Aguardiente de Agave” or Aguardiente de Maguey”.  Some of the finest mezcal to be had in Oaxaca is in this category, because it’s sold by someone who knows good mezcal from bad and can vouch for its quality, so the producers don’t spend the money to get certified. 

The main takeaway here is: if you find a bottle labeled “mezcal” and the word “artisanal” or “ancestral” doesn’t come IMMEDIATELY and precisely afterwords, then what you’re looking at is low-quality industrial mezcal and probably should be avoided.  Don’t be confused by a label that has the word “artisanal” or “ancestral” or some other nice sounding word somewhere on it.  I don’t know why the authorities allow producers to use these words at all—in a logical world, they would be completely forbidden….. but alas.  The other things which should be on any respectable bottle of mezcal are: the actual name of the maestro mezcalero (or maestra mezcalera) who made the batch; the name of the town where it was produced; the methods of production, including at least whether it was distilled in barro or cobre (clay or copper); and the alcohol percentage (this should be AT LEAST 45%; there’s a saying that mezcal of less than 45% alcohol is not mezcal, but I’ve seen “mezcal” of 30-35%).

The other main takeaway: you should come to visit and we will taste great mezcal together.

Pictures to illustrate what I'm talking about:





Here's a bottle found at a souvenir shop, of lousy industrial mezcal.  Note the use of "tradición artesanal"-- there IS a tradition, but this ain't part of it.

















Here's a bottle of good mezcal I bought at the Feria de Mezcal back in July.  Note "Mezcal Artesanal" plus lots of other important stuff (100% Agave, goes without saying that if it's not, it's a very bad sign; the type of maguey, distilled in clay, and "joven" (young); aged mezcal is not generally a thing, though "añejo en vidrio" (aged in glass, i.e. in the bottle) IS a thing that's becoming more popular)
















Here's a bottle of excellent mezcal I bought at the famous Mezcaloteca, which bottles small-batch mezcal from producers who don't do anything but MAKE the mezcal.  Mezcaloteca, because of its titanic reputation, has no need to jump through the expensive hoops of certification (though they just started an export company, which I suspect DOES get its stuff certified), thus "Aguardiente de Agave."  This style of label is quite common (perhaps from people copying Mezcaloteca) with TONS of info on how it was made....









This picture is stolen from the Interwebs, because this mezcal is now available in Minnesota!  And it's great stuff.  The "Mezcal Artesanal" is a bit hard to find (it's at the very bottom), because this label actually has some graphic design, so they didn't (apparently) want to clutter the main label with extra words.  Interestingly, I bought a bottle from this producer bacThis Planet Money story tells about Mezcal Tosba... it's a good listen.  The bottle I have, I bought from one of the cousins who own and started the palenque.
k in July as well, but the label did not have the bit at the bottom (presumably, when they're selling in Mexico at events like the Feria, they figure they don't need the certification).

Comparsa versus Desfile?


Aquí en Oaxaca, there are a multitude of words for what we would call a parade in English. Desfile, comparsa, calenda, convite... (and some more that I am forgetting, for example religious processions and never mind fiesta-specific parades that get their own name, like muerteadas). "Desfile" is the only word I knew before moving. It's a little confusing to know what is what and why.
Last night, we attended the Magna Comparsa for Oaxaca de Juárez' celebration of Día de Muertos and I think I get a sense of the difference between a desfile and a comparsa. Compare this foto (not mine) of the Desfile de Catrinas in CDMX and my foto of the Magna Comparsa....
and you'll maybe get a sense of one difference: in a comparsa, the (what seems like the) entire barrio or pueblo or familia y amigxs of the organization that sponsors the comparsa element shows up to march in the parade, often after the puppets or the dancers or what have you, but othertimes intermixed (as in my foto). Oh- and in between the visual spectacle and the pueblo walkinga long? Always a banda!!! Drums, a full brass section, LOUD, exuberant playing. Bandas are such an important part of life in Oaxaca and actually feature in calendas, comparsas, desfiles, and convites... Each element in the comparsa has its *own* banda, either from the village or hired specially.
My foto of a similar entry to that in the below foto but this is in the Magna Comparsa, Inicia Oaxaca de Muertos 2018, Oaxaca de Juárez
Whereas in a desfile, it seems more organized and only the people involved in the spectacle part are actually in the parade (at least this is what it seems like). Everyone else is a spectator.

Foto of the Desfile de Catrinas in CDMX. foto by: Archivo Cuartoscuro; from website Chilango.com
Last night's comparsa featured plenty of people not dressed up at all, along with some with their face painted or wearing a mask or kids wearing a halloween costume, many of the adults with a can of beer, there was much conviviality and joking about as well as all the sheer artistry of the giant puppets, stilt-walkers, dancers, catrina and catrine faces, etc. etc.

I'm not about to claim one is better than the other, just different, I think. And, ultimately, for me: fascinating and deeply humbling to see all the expressions of this ancient fiesta that is día de muertos...



Friday, October 26, 2018

dreams and tradtion reveal magic

Anyone who has seen the movie Coco (and if you haven't...um? what is wrong with you?!) knows alebrijes, even if you don't think you do. Alebrijes are the artesanía* that inspired the magical spirit guides in the land of the dead. There's even a quick fly-by view of alebrijes set out for sale at the beginning of the movie. But more prominently, Dante, the callajero** who adopts and is adopted by Miguel, and Pepita, the winged jaguar who is Mama Imelda's spirit guide, are both alebrijes come to life. The film-makers famously spent much time in Oaxaca and went to San Martin Tilcajete, learned all about alebrijes. They were so inspired that alebrijes got incorporated into the movie (much to the pride of Oaxaqueños and especially the alebrije artisanxs.

We were first introduced to alebrijes when we came to Oaxaca to see if it might be a good place to live (this was pre-Coco). We fell in love with the brightly and intricately painted creatures (both fantastical and real) that are for sale in every artesanos cooperative shops and all over the mercados and tinaguis. We bought several small pieces to take home and to give as gifts.


Today, we visited a taller^ in San Martin Tilcajete (one of two pueblos where alebrijes are made), the Taller David Hernández. Suffice it to say, that we knew very little of what goes on in producing alebrijes!!! The painting is only the half of it- possibly less!

First, the wood. Alebrijes in Oaxaca are made of the wood of the copal tree (Burseraceae). The Zapotec people of this region have a long, long history of carving creatures and figures out of copal. This is where the ancient tradition part of this artesanía comes from. (The painted part actually was the brain-child- or rather sick-dream-child because he was very ill and dreamt up alebrijes, name and all!- of one carver, Pedro Linares Lopez, from Mexico City) The copal tree is mostly known as the source of copal incense, widely burned here. As the folks at the Taller David Hernandez were describing the process of carving, they mentioned that the copal masculino is used for small pieces because it has small branches, which the copal feminino is used for the larger pieces...and I thought...hang on! Is copal dioeceous?! And it seems that indeed, Protium copal is indeed dioceous, as are most of the species of this genus. HOW COOL IS THAT?! okay, botany nerd moment over. The wood is pretty soft and very humid - this is when the carver does his work, which involves deciding what creature the piece of wood will be and then carving and naming it. Most pieces are of a single piece of wood-- the only exception being wings, tails, ears that are often removable. Then the wood has to dry out for some number of days...or weeks...or months...years sometimes...


Then the pieces are sanded down to reveal details and and any imperfections in the wood are sanded away or filled in with a paste made from the dust of the sanding . The pieces are then soaked in gasoline to kill any termites or other pests that might cause the piece to disintegrate over time. And then comes more drying...and more drying (all in the sun, mind you, no ovens!)...at which point the wood usually splits a bit so these splits are filled in with the paste and bits of wood. The entire surface of the piece is then covered with a thin layer of the paste and it's SUPER smooth at this point and ready for painting!
little (conejito) bodies all line up, during sanding/filling in stage

I had to ask what all those little guys lined up were, then the guy stuck ears in one of them-- aha! conejo!



The painting! Oh the painting... First, they showed us the beginning apprentices who, as far as I can tell, do a million small dots- which don't get me wrong is still GORGEOUS.

I asked how they know what colors/patterns to do-- basically the maestros come and tell them, do a little demo that the apprentices then follow.


As you move along the taller, the apprentices become more and more skilled and work on bigger pieces with more complicated designs. Everything is done by hand and there is no template on the piece-- it's all free-hand, I guess you might say. It's quite astounding.

Check out how tiny the brush they use is!!!



Finally, there's the table of the maestros who have been working at this for more than 6 years.


Few more fotos of the taller and various pieces in the shop,

The first two tables of apprentices

3rd and 4th tables-- the last table is that of masters/maestrxs



another view of the dog that's featured at the top of this post

Colibris in the shop. I loved the display






*artesanía: this word doesn't have a great translation into English...handcraft, sort of, but artesanía means something more than that, really
**callajero: stray dog (can also refer to cats), creature of the streets
 ^taller: workshop