Driving out the evil

It's hard to believe it, but Oaxaca still has the capacity to fill me with awe, bring out the goosebumps, and touch me somewhere down deep in my soul, to affect me at some primal level.

A very tangible example of the passing down of tradition: a middle-aged dad was wearing these horns and then halfway through the village, transfered them over to this younger guy

Yesterday it happened again. Somewhat belatedly I realized that the pueblo of San Martin Tilcajete, perhaps best known for its tradition of alebrijes, also has a fairly unique carnaval tradition. This tradition includes not just the 2-3 days immediately before lent but in fact every Sunday for the month or so before. On these Sundays, various groups of men - family members, friends - gather together to run through the streets of the pueblo, driving away any and all bad vibes, evil spirits, etc. as well as enjoying themselves and entertaining/frightening town folk.

sometimes the oil has pigment; this was another group out for a run, included guys in blue, black, and red

They rather famously do this by dressing up and by painting themselves with oil. Yes, oil. Most often motor oil. MOTOR OIL. They wear devil masks or otherwise scary masks. They wear cowbells around their waists to help scare the bad spirits. They carry large sticks or chains. And they run. All over town. This is a strong tradition and is handed down from father to son, abuelos to nietos, tios to sobrinos. This isn't done for the benefit of tourists or visitors. And only people from San Martin Tilcajete can participate. Most groups run around by themselves, with the community peeking out their doors and windows as they go by. (a bunch of Oaxaqueñx instagrammers were actually following my group, I think they all planned it to go out together and we just stumbled upon them)

one of the jovenes of our group

At one point I ran like nothing to get ahead a block or so so I could take fotos as they approached. It wasn't scary. I lie.

I didn't really know *any* of this when I decided we needed to go check out what happens on these Sundays. Moments after arriving in San Martin Tilcajete at noon-ish, we heard the janglin
g of bells. Sure enough, along past the main plaza, came a group of about 6 boys and men, all painted black and with either masks or green face paint and wearing huge clusters of cowbells (that dragged their shorts down). They were moving fast!!! I noticed there were some photographers following so I joined in, figuring I'd go along as they went a couple of blocks and then they'd turn around and come back. Well, no. They ran throughout the entire town and so I followed along desperately trying to take some fotos. At some point I ditched my purse for Eric to pick up at some point, so that I could juggle my cameras and a need to replace a battery or two. Fortunately, there was a brief pause at the top of a hill before we started running again. As we passed through roads with high walls the sound of the cowbells together with the unworldly figures of the aceitado (oiled up) diablos made the hair on my arms stand up, connecting me to a history where evil spirits were a present danger. And at the same time, there was a sense of beauty- the beauty of a long, unbroken tradition, a beauty of community and commonality. And there was jocularity as well- the joy of living life and of teasing your neighbors, recruiting them to the dark side by marking their cheek or arm with the oil.

I think this was someone of the aceitados' esposa o cuñada o algo porque not only did she not mind being anointed with oil, but she also took various costume pieces that were falling off, etc.

discussion of where to go next

It was quite the experience, I hope I managed to capture some of the feelings and sensations in my fotos. It's not my forte- taking fotos of people and especially not when they are running and doing unexpected things (unlike dancers who at this point I can more or less predict what's to happen). I mostly just shot and shot and shot. And some tiny fraction of the fotos actually turned out. But anyway, I wouldn't trade that Sunday or anything in the world. The sweating, the laughing, the running up hills, past fallow fields, on cobbled streets, on dirt roads, all chasing the diablos and hoping they drive all bad spirits in front of them and leave none behind. 

uuuuuuuf the combination of the disfrace (costume) and the paint of the house behind...guau!!!

after running up a hill, we all took a little break, this diablo sat down but very regally. It was very prince of darkness like, but I think mostly he just didn't want to mess up the oil jajajajajaja

this was another group of diablos we saw later on