Celebrating Light in February

Candlemas Day  (Candelaria in Mexico) is a week from tomorrow.  If you found a baby Jesus in your piece of the rosca on January 6th, you acquired the responsibility of hosting a meal on February 2nd for all of those with whom you shared the rosca.  It’s not an onerous responsibility to fulfill; you just need tamales and atole, the traditional drink that accompanies Mexican tamales.   You’d best be putting in your order with your tamale vendor now.  Good tamale vendors are almost always fully booked ahead for February 2.   If your tamale person has a proper shop s/he may also provide the atole.  In the absence of atole, hot chocolate is an acceptable substitute.   

Despite Mexico's popular cultural link between the cutting of the rosca on January 6th, and Candlemas, on February 2nd, the real link is based on instructions given in the Book of Leviticus (chapter 12, verses 1-8).  Teenage Mary, like all observant Jewish women, counted out two sets of days after giving birth to a first-born baby boy in the manger in Bethlehem.  First she counted the eight days to His circumcision and naming, a requirement for all Jewish baby boys.  And then, from that day, she counted an additional 33 days to mark the day she would take her newborn son to the Temple in Jerusalem, a requirement for first-born sons, in that way completing her own purification after having given birth.  

Perhaps understandably, our male dominated Christian clergy chooses to tone down the celebration of the circumcision of the baby Jesus -- prancing around its central meaning by calling it some variation of the Feast of the Name of Jesus -- yet it is a very important ceremony in a Jewish boy's life.  It is at his circumcision ceremony that he is given a name, becoming a member of the covenant established between Abraham and God.   On the eighth day after his birth Jesus joined the Jewish people, following the instructions given in the Book of Genesis (chapter 17, verse 12).  In other words, Jesus didn't become Jesus until eight days after He was born.  Though there is much debate about the actual date of Jesus’ birth, could this be the reason we start the Christian calendar on January 1st, not on Christmas Day?

At the Temple in Jerusalem the old man Simeon took the newborn baby in his arms and called Him a "light for revelation to the Gentiles,"  (Luke 2, verse 32) hence the name Candlemas in English, or Candelaria in Spanish. So while the circumcision of Jesus is a purely Jewish event, the Presentation in the Temple and the words of Simeon predicted the inclusion of gentiles.  

For many in Mexico, Día de la Candelaria brings the Christmas celebrations to conclusion.  The baby Jesus is removed from the manger scene dressed in new clothes, taken to Mass where it is blessed, and then put in a special place, usually on a chair, or throne, in a home altar for the rest of the year.  

Start noticing hand written signs in homes or shops which advertise "Se visten niños Diós".  Some baby Jesuses have been passed down through generations and are ceramic or made of carved wood so you'll also see signs reading "Se reparan niños Diós".  The traditional clothing is white and lacy, and white clothes are required for the first dressing of a recently acquired baby Jesus.  

The best place to see the baby Jesus hospitals and dressmaking is any large central market. In the week before Candelaria there will be seamstresses and repair people offering their services.  It is a fun place to spend a few hours and is a festival honored by all economic strata.  In the last days before Candelaria, baby Jesuses arrive at the markets and, whether they have traveled by foot, bus, or chauffeur, they will be lovingly carried in the arms of their owners. Tiny fingers will be carefully repaired, damaged eyes replaced, missing paint carefully reapplied.  Owners may choose to dress the baby Jesus in traditional baby clothes, or as the Pope, or one of the saints. However, some will choose miniature soccer uniforms, wrestler costumes, or whatever clothing has been made popular by recent television coverage of events.   

On Candelaria itself, the restored baby Jesuses, wearing their new finery and often seated in their chairs, are carried like Jesus himself, for presentation in the church.  There they will be blessed and, in turn, equally bless, by their presence, squatter's shacks and the homes of the very wealthy.     

While the Candelaria festival is observed in just about every Catholic church all over Mexico, the town most famous for celebrating the day is Tlacotalpan, Veracruz, a river port city at the mouth of the Papaloapan River, whose patron is the Virgen de la Candelaria.  On February 2nd the image of the Virgin will be taken in procession from her church to the pier where aboard a specially decorated fishing boat -- accompanied by a flotilla -- she will go out for a paseo on the wide river.  The festival begins on January 31 and lasts until February 9.  Part of it entails a running of the bulls much like in Pamplona, Spain.  

Tlacotalpan has been included in UNESCO's list of World Heritage Sites because of its preservation of Spanish colonial and Caribbean architecture and urban layout.  Though the town suffered flooding last year I'm sure there has been a rush to get it in shape for this year's Candelaria festival.

Picnicking at the Sierra de Montenegro

Last month I hosted an evening picnic for a group of environmentalists and researchers in the scenic Canyon de Lobos.  I met them as they emerged from the Sierra de Montenegro Reserve onto the Cuernavaca-Cuautla highway.  What had been planned as a four-hour reconnaissance hike through the Sierra de Montenegro, just east of Cuernavaca, turned into an all day traverse -- literally bushwhacking towards the end, as they pressed on to get to the highway before susnset.  Early that morning I had dropped the group of fifteen off on the side of the mountain in Zapata territory, halfway between Cuernavaca and Tlaltizapan.  Though they were in cell phone communication, occasionally even in sight of Cuernavaca, they were hiking through some of the last of Morelos' pristine forests for the purpose of monitoring its status of conservation. 

Morelos is the second smallest state in Mexico, occupying only a quarter of one percent of the national territory, yet it is one of the most biologically diverse states.  It is home to seven of the nine great ecosystems of Mexico (missing are mangroves and rain forests) along with 10% of the fauna, 33% of the species of birds, 14% of the reptiles, and 21% of Mexico's mammals.  Tragically, in the last five decades it has lost more than 70% of its forests.  Of the remaining 30%, two thirds is seriously deteriorated and only a third -- or 10% of the original forest cover -- hasn't been affected by our species.  Sadly, Morelos is in second place (after Tabasco) with regard to the percentage of its territory suffering from the transformation of its original ecosystems.   

One of the principal strategies to conserve Morelos' biodiversity has been the creation of Protected Natural Areas (ANP), foremost of which is the Sierra Montenegro State Reserve which runs parallel to, and just to the east of, the Cuernavaca-Acapulco highway.  It is part of the limestone ridge and hence is where a huge cement factory, visible from the highway, is located -- limestone being one of the principal ingredients in Portland cement.  

One of the most important characteristics of the Sierra Montenegro state reserve is that it is a bridge, or biological corridor, between two other protected areas: the Chichinautzin Biological Corridor, running along the volcanic ridge we cross over when driving between Mexico City and Cuernavaca, and the Sierra de Huautla in southeastern Morelos.  Despite its protected status, the Sierra Montenegro is seriously threatened by human activity threatening to reduce the width of the protected area.  If it should be severed completely the continuity of natural vegetation from the northern to the southern part of the state will be lost. 

The threat is coming from both extremes of the social spectrum.  Poor squatters, on the outskirts of the Cuernavaca metropolitan area, are seizing land and building houses, and the cement company -- on whose board sit representatives of the wealthiest person on the planet -- has recently been given the right, by executive decree, without any compensation to the State, to exploit 300 hectares of what had been part of the Montenegro Reserve.  This exploitation involves clearing all vegetation and dynamiting the limestone.  The result will be a canyon that breaks the continuity of the biological corridor.   Legally, the decree cannot be reversed. As the only remaining option, environmentalists are doing their best to demand, through changes in the mitigating measures required by the environmental impact statement, that the cement company restore the flora after extracting the limestone.  Obviously that will be impossible, but the attempt is to force the company to mitigate damages to the extent they can.     

The northern end of the Montenegro Reserve is known as the Canyon de Lobos -- through which runs the Cuernavaca-Cuautla highway.  It is the narrowest part of the corridor, only about 400 meters wide in places.   This is the most vulnerable part of the Reserve with the highway making it easy to be encroached upon by illegal construction by squatters. 

Over the evening picnic, and during the drive back to Cuernavaca, I learned about the Unified System of Natural Regions of Land and Freshwater Lakes of the World for Purposes of Conservation.   Biologist Fernando Jaramillo, of UNAM's staff, told those of us in the van that the Sierra de Montenegro is at the northernmost part of the overlap of the Nearctic Realm and the Neotropical Realm.  The area between the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, the narrowest part of Mexico, and where we are in Central Mexico is where flora and fauna of those two realms mix.  Pumas, white tailed deer, mountain cats, and Gila Monsters from the Nearctic coexist with ocelots, jaguarundis, and boa constrictors of the Neotropical realm.  The most obvious flora, which seems out of place, is the oak forest, reason for the name of the Sierra de Montenegro -- the forest is so thick on that ridge that sunlight is blocked,. We drive through similar oak forests, left over from the last glaciation, when we are are slightly above the switchback known as La Pera (because of its shape) on the Mexico City-Cuernavaca autopista. 

It seems clear to me that enforcement of the legislation establishing the Sierra Montenegro Reserve is essential and should be strengthened.  The Sierra Montenegro Reserves merits being elevated to the status of a federally designated reserve with stiff enforcement of rules and regulations governing Protected Areas.   Furthermore, each of us should do what we can to honor and to save what is left of this marvelous ecological corridor; yes, even you Carlos.

John Ross, enroute continued

If the first paragraph of an article is the most important one; could the same be said about the first chapter of a book?  The first chapter of John Ross’s El Monstruo, Dread and Redemption in Mexico City (2009) focuses on room 102 of Hotel Isabel in the Centro Historico of Mexico City, and its immediate surroundings.  John uses his intimacy with his neighbors and neighborhood, on what was the ancient island of Tenochtitlan, to skillfully extrapolate understanding from the micro community to interpret the macro community of the largest city in the world and even the Republic.  

On Wednesday, December 29, Carol Hopkins and I had the privilege to be in room 102, helping JRvacate the address made famous by John’s frequent reference to his one room residence. With the dust of his papers, photographs, even his Human Shield Brigade t-shirt, still on our hands, we walked through John’s neighborhood letting the people, noises and colors he so often described seep under our skin, hoping that doing so would allow us to more easily understand JR’s insight. 

They are the same streets walked by 20^th Century famed expatriate authors from D H Lawrence to Steinbeck. The stories told in the first chapter of El Monstruo display John’s encyclopedic memory of these haunted souls and the tragedies that befell many of them.  John, too, played out his dramas but never lost sight of his primary task, clarification of the complexities of today’s Mexico in an historical framework.  In Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell posits the 10,000 hour rule - the necessary 10,000 hours a talented professional must put in to become an “outlier” or genius in one’s field.  John was certainly an outlier with an easy100,000 hours plus. It is unlikely we will know his like again. 

Mexicans, unlike their northern neighbors, are intensely interested in their politics and history: local, national and even international. They like nothing better than to sit, talk, and speculate about the latest dramas in the Mexican political scene. Even relatively uneducated Mexicans are well aware of the geography of their country as well as the stories surrounding their various wars. Most Mexicans can easily name their presidents, the states, even the capitals. They even know which US cities are within “former” Mexican territory.   Newspapers, of every persuasion, can be found on every newsstand.   For the illiterate there is TV, radio and, of course, the ubiquitous streetcorner chatter.   

Back in room 102, John, Carol, and I carried out that most Mexican of traditions.  We probed John about his fascinating recent supposition that Subcomandante Marcos was somehow involved in the kidnapping of Diego Fernández de Cevallos.  John’s theories are based on years of being with Marcos in Chiapas, knowing him well, and having an intimate knowledge of the Sub's unique writing style and great humor which, he says, give the communiqués issued by the Misteriosos Desaparecedores (Misterious Disappearers) telltale signs of Marcos' writing; such as speaking about the Archduke of Escobedo and a "whole series of things which could only have been Marcos.  Kidnappers don't kid around like that.  Only Marcos kids around like that.  I don't think that he did the kidnapping, though perhaps he's involved in the scripting of it.  Marcos as far as I understand was not on very good terms with the leadership of the Zapatistas and I think there was some kind of mutual understanding that he would move on to something else.  The other thing is that [in my analysis of this] I used the model of the kidnapping of [former Chiapas governor]Absalón Castellanos Domínguez as being a clue; where they put him on public trial in the jungle and then released him, which is what they've done with [Diego].  The rigid part of the left is very resistant to this idea, but I think I'm going to be vindicated one of these days." 

John firmly stated that if Marcos was involved, he did not involve the Zapatista Army nor hold Fernández de Cevallos in Chiapas.  His speculation about motive was more vague.  

John has spent many years believing fervently in the Zapatista cause, backing Marcos, but on this day in room 102 he was critical of the Sub.  He faulted him for not supporting Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador in the 2006 post electoral struggle when millions of people in the country no longer believed in the electoral system and yet he continued to attack Lopez Obrador. 

"I think my books have contributed to creating this cult of personality and that was a grievous injury to the Mexican political physiognomy by making Marcos the center of the situation instead of the catalyst in a situation in which the people were much more involved." 

We asked John about recent charges that La Jornada was no longer carrying real news about the Zapatistas in exchange for the Chiapas government's paid ads and gazetillas (paid ads presented as articles).  JR was reluctant to be critical of La Jornada but he did express his regret that La Jornada’s coverage of the Zapatistas has been seriously eroded. 

Thank you readers for your responses to Part 1 on John Ross (online at < http://www.thenews.com.mx/index.php/charliesdigs/charlie-5337.htm>).  Dorothy Wick, a retired archivist from the New York University faculty in their Archives Administration program, has generously offered her considerable skills to help archive the John Ross material before their transfer to a major university library.

John Ross, enroute

John Ross, the dean of foreign correspondents in Mexico, has been a walking monument in Mexico's City's Centro Historico for decades.  He is easily recognizable with his signature goatee, ponytail, and a Palestinian keffiyeh around his neck.  More remarkable than his singular appearance is his life-long adherence to the pursuit of social justice and the impact he has had on his adopted country. 

John is now in the terminal stages of a cancer he has battled as valiantly as he’s fought for every social justice issue of the past 50 years.  By the time you read this he will have left his hotel room on Isabel la Católica steet, where he has lived since the week after the Mexico City earthquake of 1985, to be with friends on the shores of Lake Patzcuaro, preparing for passage to the other side. That passing will be a loss to Mexico, the press, oppressed people the world over, and his compañeros.  

Since 1957, the beginning of John’s life in Mexico, he has covered every major story from political upheavals to environmental crises.  JR broke the story of the impending Zapatista uprising in Chiapas weeks before it happened and anticipated the negative impact proposed laws would have on the fragile ejido system before they were passed.

Strange as it may seem, this beat poet, performance artist, eminent journalist from Brooklyn, may well be the conscience of the progressive movement of the country he adopted, as well as being a bridge to help Mexicans and Anglophone readers understand each other and the Deeper Mexico.  

On December 29, I went with my colleague and John’s friend, Carol Hopkins, to move John’s Mexico archives from his hotel room to their temporary storage at the Cemanahuac Educational Community in Cuernavaca.  While I moved boxes, Carol interviewed a weak and sick John.  Though physically challenged, JR’s mind remains an amazing repository of a lifetime of stories. We told him we would like to write a two-part column for The News and asked his permission to record.  John agreed and with some amusement told us that he had been a correspondent for The News decades ago.  So, we come full circle.  

"The first rule of journalism" John told us, is “be there.  You can’t report stories you haven’t witnessed personally.  Develop your sources.  Over the years I have maintained sources as diverse as a homeless beggar and those in lofty positions of power.” 

John spent his early years in Mexico quietly living in Michoacan, intending to write the Great American Novel.  But his philosophical roots were in progressive social movements and he became increasingly involved with campesino struggles.  He used his writing skills to draw attention to their efforts to protect the land against the depradations of land hungry international corporations.  For John, this seizing of the land was a reprise of the Morelos hacendados requiring more and more land, squeezing the campesinos, until the inevitable revolution of 1910.  Indeed, John said, “little has changed for the campesino from the pre-Revolutionary period to today and the promises of the Revolution are largely unfulfilled.” 

In addition to the breadth of his Mexican work, John Ross was the first U.S. citizen imprisoned in protest against the Vietnam draft; he was the leader of the Human Shield Brigade in Baghdad at the time of the U.S. invasion of Iraq.  Though a lifetime Jew, John fervently opposes Israeli suppression of the Palestinians and has traveled to Palestine to help with the annual olive picking. 

John has published eight books of fiction and non-fiction. Though already struggling with cancer, in May of this year JR finished a grueling three-month, 66-stop book tour from San Francisco to New York presenting his 493 page El Monstruo, Dread and Redemption in Mexico City (2009).  As the book jacket tells us, "never before has anyone told from the ground level the gritty, vibrant histories of this city of 23 million faceless, fearless souls, listened to the stories of those who have not been crushed by the Monster, deconstructed the Montruo's very monstrousness, and lived to tell its secrets."  It is the story of the Valley of Mexico from its volcanic origins right up to the year of its publication.

His earlier Murdered by Capitalism (2004), is John’s personal story of 40 years “on the barricades of social justice issues in the two Americas.”  Since 1996, John has written a newsletter series, Blindman’s Buff.  A few are available online to those thirsty for an in depth understanding of the development of Mexico’s current political, social, and economic situation.   Blindman’s Buff is not written for those wanting to be spoon fed pablum.  They are brilliantly written, heuristic, and deserve a careful read.  John's archives contain all of them and hopefully, someday soon, they will be published in book form. 

Fools and Food

In Mexico two especially fun holidays follow Christmas.  Unlike many holidays, which involve travel plans for long weekends, without any consideration of the meaning of the holiday, these two involve activities appropriate to each of the days.  Neither one is a civil holiday involving a day off work 

The first of these is today, December 28, Day of the Holy Innocents. It recalls the boys under the age of two killed by King Herod when he learned from the Three Kings that He who was to be King of the Jews had been born in his realms and might be competing with him for power.  (Lest you think my last sentence confusing because of the use of the word 'him' referring to two different persons, please do note that one is in upper case and the other lower.)  Of course the placement of the commemoration of this day, in the calendar, is way off base -- if we chose to accept the placement of two other important days in the Christian calendar.   The Kings arrived on January 6th, and On February 2nd Mary hadn't yet left on her flight to Egypt, she was presenting her child in the temple in Jerusalem forty days after His birth.  Nevertheless, in but another example of the vagaries of the Christian calendar, December 28th is the designated day.  

Despite its gruesome origin, Day of the Holy Innocents has converted into one of great fun for Mexicans and much of the Spanish-speaking world. In some ways it is like April Fools day in the English speaking world.  Traditionally the objective is to get someone to lend you something, which then does not need to be returned for a full year.  When the loan is obtained the laugh will be on the one who has been tricked, by saying "inocente palomita que te dejaste engañar, sabiendo que en este día nada se puede prestar" ("innocent little dove who allowed yourself to be tricked, knowing that on this day nothing can be lent."); or a variation thereof.   I don't know how the dove got into the equation, but that's the way it is.

In a different manifestation of the day, even staid and serious newspapers will publish a whole page of news which is credible but steps over the line of 'too good or too bad to be true'.  Ask your news vendor today for papers which have done this.  It's not always the same papers, however this year, with Julian Assange's contributions, I expect there will be many participating newspapers.  You might also listen carefully to what you hear on radio or TV news programs, being leery of repeating it, lest you become the brunt of the joke. 

While Santa Claus makes greater inroads into Mexico with each passing year, by now he has been banished til next year. Until January 6th, Santa’s place has been taken by the Three Kings of Orient and their appropriate beasts of burden.  

Set some time aside one of these evenings to go to downtown Mexico City and walk the length of Alameda Park.  You don't need to be a child to enjoy it --  if you  have children, so much the better.  Even though you take your camera, I suggest you let a photographer at one of the dioramas set up along the length of the park take your picture atop an elephant, camel, or horse, or standing next to them in the company of Balthasar, of Nubia; Gaspar, of Tharsus; and Melchior of Sheba.

In Mexico, January 6th, Epiphany, is the second day of great fun for children and adults alike.  It is a hectic time for parents; children are expecting gifts, just as Baby Jesus received gifts from the Wise Men.  On the night of January 5th, many of Mexico's toy stores will stay open til the last customer leaves -- double and triple parked cars out in 

front often can cause traffic congestion in the middle of the night.

You're probably already seeing roscas in the bakeries, don't be fooled into thinking this is just a wreath of sweet bread that it is to be consumed today.  Roscas are essential for the Mexican celebration of Epiphany.  Inside each baked rosca is at least one tiny Baby Jesus.  At Epiphany parties you'll slice your own piece of rosca; if it should contain a Baby Jesus you have entertaining in your future, for you will be expected to host a tamale party on February 2nd, Candlemass Day.

The bread is sweet and tasty; that tends to override the temptation of cutting a very thin slice.  Buen provecho.

Let's Save Our Water Supply -- The Forest of Water

By area, Morelos is the second smallest state in Mexico (after Tlaxcala); so small that on a clear day, from the Mexico-Cuernavaca expressway, you see about 80% of the state.  To the east, on the border with Puebla, the highest point in Morelos is the peak of Popocatepetl (17,980').  To the south the Sierra Madre del Sur is the border with Guerrero, to the west the State of Mexico, and to the north the Federal District.  Though you can drive through Morelos, from north to south, in an hour, it contains an amazing ecological and geological diversity.  

Traversing this tiny state are three parallel mountain ranges running east to west, each providing important resources. The ridge you cross on the highway from Mexico City is the Neovolcanic Axis.  Imagine a string of 8,000 volcanos all lined up!  It starts in Colima and cuts right through central Mexico exiting out on the other coast at about the latitude of the port of Veracruz.  Every flat-topped mountain and every pointed mountain in the ridge is a volcano.  

The limestone ridge, since prehispanic times, has been an important source of construction material; both as building blocks and limestone cement. It is one of the principal ingredients in today's Portland cement. Xochicalco, the Cacahuamilpa Caves, and the giant cement factory visible from the highway are located in the limestone ridge. An unusual use of limestone is as an ingredient in tortillas.  In order to grind the corn to make the dough to pat into the shape of a tortilla, the corn first has to be soaked in water and limestone and subjected to heat for 24 hours. 

The Sierra Madre, to the south, is a source of a variety of mineral wealth; Taxco’s famous silver mines are located just beyond Morelos in Guerrero. But many other minerals are also found in these rich mountains.

  

Many of you will make the trip over the ridge to Cuernavaca during the holidays.  It is one of the world's more beautiful drives.  Since we're in the tropics, where climate is determined more by elevation above sea level than latitude, the quick change in elevation we experience takes us through several ecoregions.  In all of Mexico there are nine great ecoregions of terrestrial vegetation, Morelos harbors seven of the nine (missing are mangroves and rain forests). The drive over the mountain from Cuernavaca into Mexico City takes us through most of them.  

Leaving Cuernavaca, passing the state university campus, we get into a pine forest; desert vegetation is in the area of the switchback named La Pera; followed by an oak forest, characteristic of a much colder climate, left over from the last glaciation; back into a pine forest near Coajumulco; and then Zacaton grasses as the highway takes us through a 9,300' pass over the continental divide and into the Federal District.  As you go through the pass look higher on the ridge, into fir forests.  

As you're making your way up the mountain also notice the dark and porous volcanic rock, most easily seen in the cuts made for highway construction. The porous nature of the rock makes the ridge a natural reservoir.  An average of six feet of water fall per year in central Mexico.  Each drop of rainwater that falls on the volcanic ridge immediately, and instinctively, wants to race down the mountainside, join a raging river, and feel fulfilled by reaching the Ocean.  But when it runs into a blade of grass, a bush, or tree, it comes to a standstill and gets absorbed by the ridge, acting like a giant sponge.  It percolates down inside the mountain and with time, years perhaps, joins an underground river and will finally emerge at one of the many springs located along the base of the ridge.  Thirty percent of the population of Mexico lives on either side of the Volcanic Axis; not because they want to live dangerously, but because that's where the water is. The key to this marvelous reservoir is the forest.  It is for this reason that, even though water is not visible, it is known world-wide as the Great Forest of Water.  Water flows from its abundant springs into Morelos, the State of Mexico, and Mexico City year ‘round, regardless of whether it is rainy season or dry.  If the forest is destroyed there indeed will be a raging river during the rainy season but there will be less and less water flowing from the springs.  The current autopista crosses through the Great Forest of Water and has already affected the amount of water stored in the mountain.  Environmentalists are deeply concerned about the impact on water supply of proposed plans to build another highway along the top of the ridge, connecting Lerma to the autopista and bypassing Mexico City. 

It is hard to quantify the value of a forest, but number crunchers can easily calculate the cost of transporting water from distant sources, and compare it to the cost of the fresh, clean, and free water delivered in abundance year 'round by the Forest of Water right to the doorstep of the Federal District. If you are interested in more information on this topic send me an email and I'll forward two very interesting articles about this environmental threat.  One from The News itself, and the other from the Journal of Wilderness.

Priests Painting Piñatas

Piñata sales are booming.  Though they are popular year round at children's birthday parties, they are essential for the posadas which start on Thursday and are hosted every night from the 16th to the 24th.  Some say that the piñata originated in China, others that it's a prehispanic Mesoamerican idea, but the Franciscans say they introduced the current version of piñatas to Mesoamerica at their monastery in Acolman, State of Mexico, shortly after the conquest. 

The classic piñata is not in the shape of Sponge Bob, it's a clay pot to which seven giant cones -- today, made of cardboard -- are attached, and then the whole assemblage is decorated with bright colored tissue paper.   There are as many cones as there are Cardinal Sins.  After beating them with a stick and destroying them all, the good stuff falls out, as a reward.  The Franciscans used it as a teaching tool in the evangelization process; they were probably a lot more fun than the dour Dominicans or the stern Jesuits.

   

I wonder how the early friars made their piñatas.  It seems that bright colored paper would have been hard to come by and pricey besides.  But they did have clay pots, bark paper, and lots of bright colored dyes and paint.  

Acolman is one of those places we race past on our way to Teotihuacan.  It's church is visible from the highway; plain, simple, and functional, as Franciscan architecture tends to be.  Understandable since they were the poorest of the religious orders to arrive in the 16th century.  

Faced with a huge population to embrace into the Church, the Catholic religious orders divided New Spain geographically among themselves, so as to not duplicate  efforts.  As you travel through Mexico, and into Guatemala, you'll only find one style of early church architecture in each region.  Only in the capital cities of Mexico and Antigua do you find the whole array of church architecture (although Antiguas' is not as old as Mexico City's).  

Interestingly, Acolman has two styles of architecture.  The Franciscans turned the area over to the Augustine Order which added a fancier façade to the church and a second cloister to the monastery.  The church continues to serve the community; the monastery is a marvelous museum of colonial religious art under the care of the INAH (National Institute of Anthropology and History).  

On the second floor level of the monastery is an open chapel with exceptional acoustics. It faces the atrium in front of the church.  It is fun to have one of the members of your party go up to the open chapel and face the altar as a priest would have done during Mass, with his back to the congregation, and speak in a soft voice.  The voice will be heard clearly by those of you gathered in front of the church.  

During the colonial period Acolman flooded and sediment accumulated up to about ten feet high (3 meters). Only a portion of it has been dug out, hence the incline in front of the church, and the damage to the sculpture on the façade up to flood level.  

Another teaching tool, for which Acolman is famous, is its Atrial Cross; a characteristic of early colonial churches (in Acolman's case it is outside the walls in front of the church's door).   Carved into the cross are the 'visuals' you'd need to tell the story of Jesus' crucifixion. Picture the priest telling the story, to a group of Indigenous people sitting around the cross, while pointing out the crown of thorns, the rooster that crowed three times, the hammer, nails, ladder, dice, Jesus' face carved in stone at the intersection of the cross, the human skull at the base of the cross representing Golgotha -- the hill on which Jesus was crucified -- which means skull.  Or is the skull something slipped in by the Indigenous sculptor?   And how does the coiled serpent fit into the story?  This is getting much to syncretic.  Time to go break a piñata.