Viva La Guelaguetza
Diablo Dance - The dance and its music, with its stomping and whirling, are said to symbolize the breaking from the repression of slave owners
Parades of dancers and music in the streets of Oaxaca
The wind smelled of rain, and dark clouds threatened to break loose. “Trumpets and firecrackers keep the rain away until the calenda (parade) is over,” assured a young Oaxacan man who heard Glen and I discussing the effectiveness of our tiny, folding umbrella.
The man was right, and a balmy breeze blew the banners announcing each troupe of musicians and dancers from the surrounding hills of Colonial Oaxaca, Mexico. The Spanish Colonial heritage of the town serves as a stunning backdrop for Guelaguetza, which is the celebration of all things indigenous. A week of dances, costumes and foods celebrate the ancient Zapotec past, when corn, spicy peppers, tropical fruits, vegetables, insects (high sustainable protein!) and chocolate were their life giving staples. Each song and dance has a theme, which reflects strong agricultural roots.
In the Pineapple Dance, women twirl in colorful, ankle length skirts and carry pineapples wrapped in red ribbons. Behind the dancers, white clad village men play guitars, trombones, drums and even a bass fiddle taller than the young man who carries it. In the Turkey Dance, men dress up as turkeys, squawking and pushing each other in fun. Another troupe wears papier mache grasshoppers and mezcal worms on their heads in a bow to some of the more unusual food and drink.
My hands tingled from so much clapping as dancers pretended to be angry bulls, charging at and headbutting while their dance partners teasingly flipped bandannas over their faces. One group wore what looked like shaggy white fur masks, which were never explained. Perhaps from a region of goat farms? At the end of each troupe's performance, dancers threw gifts into the crowd, usually in the form of sweets or cookies.
“Last year a troupe threw mangos at the crowd. Muy peligroso! (dangerous),” said a young man next to us, happy to practice his English.
Suddenly the parade stopped, and shouts went up the line that strikers had blocked the route and the performance was diverted to a different area. A collective groan went up, but instead of angry shouts or confrontation, someone organized the spectators to perform a synchronized Wave, and townspeople socialized with visitors like ourselves until the strikers could be cajoled into dispersing. “I wonder what the crowd’s reaction would be if strikers tried something like that at Mardi Gras,” I asked Glen, who raised his eyebrows and replied, “I don’t think the crowd would be performing the Wave.”
Eventually the strikers disbanded, and the parade continued through the cobble stoned streets toward the Zocalo, an historic park-like plaza. Guelaguetza is all about fun, but the origin story speaks of more meaning. Ancient Zapotecs appreciated that their lives depended on corn, and other foods native to Mexico. They also understood that gathering people together in celebration was the way to maintain harmony between villages and bring new blood into small villages. The annual event was a chance for young people to meet and intermarry with distant clans.
With so much going on there was a tendency to rush around, wanting to see it all. Something was happening all over town and it was impossible to know where a dance or music would break out next. Dancers and musicians rehearse in parks and plazas in the mornings and come late afternoon, don their costumes for the real thing.
On the advice of a native Oaxacan we walked up a surrounding hill overlooking the town to watch selection of a Corn Goddess among young women vying for the honor. The Corn Goddess won’t be the most European-looking girl at the fair. Guelaguetza is a celebration of Zapotec and Mixtec origin. In Oaxaca, people are proud of their roots and consider their 'Indianness' exotic, special and worth celebrating.
“After the Corn Goddess is chosen,” a woman standing on the hill with us said, “the real celebration begins.” Tomorrow we climb the hill again for the final tableau of dancing and music. “Viva la Guelaguetza!”
