Work as I have known it, with routine and some semblance of structure and predictability, has ended. My office is cleaned out of all the essentials and my personal memorabilia, ready for the next person to inherit and create as their own. I will return on December 27 for my exit interview and give up my identity card, office keys, building pass and parking permit. My last act of separation will be to remove my name plate from the office door. I will give intention to this and I will be very aware of what this means as a transition in my life. My identity will be elsewhere.
Now, I am in my sister’s house far from my own North Carolina home in the land where I was nurtured. My elderly mother, still fresh of mind and spirit, lives with assistance in her own space where she is cared for. I aspire to become her age with such grace, beauty and intelligence. Meanwhile, this is my interlude. The sustenance of family connection that takes me to my roots before I launch into Oaxaca on December 28 to begin the next adventure.
After dinner, I show my mother photos: of the casita where I will live in Teotitlan del Valle, of the cemetery rituals of Day of the Dead, of the landscape of mountains and corn fields, of the church at the center of this universe. She asks about Catholicism and the Zapotec practices. She lives in a Dominican community as a non-Christian and she understands spirituality. Oaxaca was founded by Dominicans. These are the constant connections in our lives.
She is old. We talk about the symbolism of Day of the Dead, the celebration of the spirits of loved ones returning to share in the emotional connection of the living for one day. We relate to that because in our tradition we light candles once a year to bring light to the memory of those we have loved who have died. She is taken with the photos of grave sites and altars covered with flowers, photos, the offering of food and beverage, the enticement of copal. I think she would like to be honored this way. With celebration and reverence.
The Spaniards brought Catholicism to Mexico, I explain to her, and laid it upon indigenous belief. It was like a porous blanket. Their intention was to embed the new religion and eradicate the old. But the ancient spirituality was strong, older than the new religion, and I create this image for her: it is like the smoke of the copal incense rising through the fabric of the blanket to find its original source. The power of the Church was officially eradicated during the Mexican Revolution when church holdings were appropriated and returned to the civil state government. Today, ritual and celebrations are family focused and held in the home, in the altar room. My mother and I discuss the similarities of our own religious traditions.
As the Christmas lights twinkle and the elderly from the Dominican community assemble for the bus tour to see the holiday lights, I think of my transition to Mexico at this time of year. The village posadas will begin. I will arrive in time for the magic caves of Teotitlan ritual that pre-dates the conquest, and move into epiphany. I will pray for the completion of the casita as I have for the past four years. The cycle of celebration continues with the aid of many saints and virgins who are called upon to protect the believers — all an amalgam of indigenous belief and Catholic ritual.
This is easy for me to understand and appreciate, I tell my mother who has never traveled outside this country. And, she gives me her blessing which is all I need.
Day of the Three Kings: Wise Men Bring Gifts to Children
For our photojournalism workshop we arranged a visit to a local family who have two young daughters, Paula Sarai, age six, and Mayra Belen age three. We wanted to fully experience the joy of Day of the Three Kings (Dia de los Tres Reyes) through the perspective of the children. Epiphany, held on January 6, is purely a children’s celebration and much more modest than the U.S. version of Christmas.
Here, Mexican children awaken early in the morning to find that the three wise men have delivered gifts under the Christmas tree while they are sleeping. Parents Pedro and Margarita tell us that it is traditional for girls to receive dolls or kitchen sets (cookware and dishes) and for boys to get trucks or bicycles.
It was late afternoon when we arrived at the family’s home; it was almost dusk. After our warm welcome into the interior courtyard of the home, we join the family around an elaborate wrought-iron table and chairs. The children come to greet each of us with extended hands, excited to show us their gifts.
Then, Pedro asked us if we know about the special story of the house. No, we said. And he retells the story his grandfather told him 13 years ago:
Many years ago an old man was selling an image of Christ, going door to door in the village of Teotitlan del Valle. Then, this was primarily a farming community and only the women were home during the day when the men were in the fields. One woman was interested but said she needed to ask her husband if she could buy the image. She asked the vendor to return. When the husband came back from the fields, the man was nowhere to be seen and the husband asked where he was. Only the crucifix was there leaning against a paddock. The man and woman put the image inside the house. They didn’t know if the vendor would return to collect the pesos he was asking for the image or to take the image back. The vendor never returned.
Ever since, the family has looked after the image of Christ. They thought, maybe they should return it to the church and they took it there and left it. But the next day, there it was back in their house. Again, they returned the image to church. And again, the image reappeared in their home. The image grew larger and then they couldn’t get it through the doorway. So there it stays. Now, it is behind a glass case, protected. An altar is now before it and the place where it rests has become a small chapel where people come to pray and bring flowers.
Each year on May 3, the priest arrives to give mass and each year on this day the family changes the clothes of the Christ. Three years ago, an anthropologist came from Mexico City, authenticated the statue and estimated its age to be 350 years old. The grandfather is now age 95 and the figure has been here in this house during his entire lifetime.
Do you believe? asked the Grandmother Magdalena. I believe that God is everywhere, she says. We nod in respect.
After our visit to the altar, we gathered around the family dining table to share a blessing of the season. Margarita passed homemade tostaditos (little tostados) of black beans, lettuce and queso fresco.
Paula and Mayra each take turns cutting the Rosca de Reyes. Margarita serves traditional Oaxacan hot chocolate (hot chocolate made with water, not milk). The girls quietly return their gifts, neatly repacked, under the tree.
Afterward, we reflected upon the experience of family cohesiveness, the cultural experiences we shared, our ability to take part in holiday celebrations, and the memories of our connection to people that will stay with us forever.
Like this:
Comments Off on Day of the Three Kings: Wise Men Bring Gifts to Children
Posted in Cultural Commentary, Oaxaca Mexico art and culture, Photography, Teotitlan del Valle, Travel & Tourism
Tagged blogsherpa, culture, Day of the Three Kings, Epiphany, Mexico, Oaxaca, religion