Entering Mesoamerica (2): Exploring Oaxaca and Mexico City - from the Street to the Church

by Shenzhan/申展

Cover photo: Carlos from Oaxaca, May 2019

该文有中文版本“走进中美洲（二）：Oaxaca与墨西哥之旅——从街头到教堂”

At 9 am on May 23, 2019, Carlos, a slender and handsome young man managing a touring business called COYOTE Aventuras in Oaxaca, started a day of 4-hour bike tour of street art in Oaxaca around the corner of a quiet street behind Templo de Santo Domingo. A small group of visitors, including M and me from New York, the rest from San Diego, have gathered around him, listening attentively.

Pointing at a black and white image of a Mexican woman hugging tightly a heart with vines forming number “43”, referring to 43 university students murdered in 2014, allegedly, by the city of Iguala government from Guerrero, a neighboring state of Oaxaca, Carlos jumped right into the most recent bleak political issue in Mexico, the corrupted government and its anti-drug war that for many are violent and murderous to its own people. Carlos surely brought up a surprisingly serious topic for me to digest after a delicious breakfast of Tamale -- corn and beef steamed in wrapped banana leaf, a traditional Oaxaca home-cooked food by my Airbnb hostess Male-- nevertheless, muralism in Mexico became a movement after the Mexican Revolution (1910-20) to reunite people by conveying strong political and social messages. One of the most famous mural artists is Diego Rivera (1886 - 1957), whose pro-communism anti-capitalism murals are still on display at the Detroit Institute of Art, and of course, his national gallery in Mexico City, among many other places. With such an origin, Carlos’ politically loaded beginning of the day was perhaps unavoidable.

Some murals only speak to people who know the background, like the ones Carlos started with. Some are strikingly colorful and artistically expressive with interesting details that could be appreciated by anyone with a glance. For example, a large mural covering the entire corner of a street in Jalatlaco, a neighborhood right next to Centro, Oaxaca, puts the “Day of the Dead” parade on display. A tradition traced back to pre-colonial time, this national holiday now starts on October 31 and ends on November 2, when people offer to the dead food, possessions and respect, while celebrating among the living with hot chocolate, music, tacos , mezcal, and fireworks! In indigenous Mexico culture, there might not be a clear line between the dead and the living. Many murals have a surprising level of comfort with the skulls and skeletons, which are of course symbols of death, but amusingly enjoy everything that life gives - peeing, drinking, dancing, fighting, playing music, etc.

“the Day of the Dead”, Jalatlaco, Oaxaca, May 2019

My favorite ones are mostly contextual: a giant monster coming out of the hallucination one might have after consuming one or more Mexican mushrooms, partially covered by the branches from above and partially disappearing because of the decaying of the wall itself; a mural telling the story of the neighborhood, where a thief was caught and hung (isn’t there a strange acute sense of humor?! Not for the dead thief, sadly. ) while deftly using the living tree behind the wall as part of the painting; or a sexy half-octopus half-female creature romantically kissing a masked human(??) in a quiet, almost deserted street where trees fell down and piled up in front of the mural -- a tender resistance and loneliness. Carlos warned everyone to wear comfortable clothing, sunscreen, and keep hydration, and he was not kidding!

Most street murals do not last very long, only for weeks, or for the lucky ones, months, which makes them interesting and relevant, as you could feel the concern, humor, passion and stories as walking by. Many art studios scatter along Porfirio Diaz, a north-south street packed with restaurants, bars, and art galleries, presenting a forever changing scene of Oaxaca to both locals and visitors, all within walking distance from Templo De Santo Domingo.

Templo de Santo Domingo, Oaxaca, May 2019

In contrast, the highly decorated baroque-style Templo De Santo Domingo, now standing with its full glory and stature in the heart of Centro Oaxaca, represents an establishment exactly the opposite of the street mural art -- permanent, distant, and power from higher up. Built over 200 years starting in 1575, its sanctuary covered with 60,000 23.5-karat gold leaves does not fail to instill a sense of awe even I possess very little knowledge of the Dominican Order, which founded the church about 50 years after the fall of the Aztec Empire.

Interior of the Sanctuary, Templo de Santo Domingo, Oaxaca, May 2019

In retrospect, the arrival of Columbus in 1492 to Central America was really the beginning of genocide of Mesoamerican peoples and cultures. The ruling Aztec Empire at the time was certainly far from ideal. In fact, it was so unpopular that many native tribes helped Hernán Cortés (1485 - 1547) and his Spanish army to defeat the Aztecs in 1521. The natives might feel relieved to see the tribunal system imposed by the Aztec Empire gone, but would soon find themselves living in a much worse situation: the Spaniards created a Colonial Casta System with people of pure Spanish blood on the top enjoying most legal rights; natives were essentially slaves of Spanish lords who own the land and its product; smallpox ravaged the native population as they didn’t have the immunity to the disease….. By 1600, the native population shrank from 20 million before Cortés to 2 million. African slaves had to be brought in to supplement the labor shortage. (in the end, the Game of Thrones are not at all original!) While gold and glory were taken by Spanish conquerors, natives gods were replaced with GOD -- A Christianized New Spain was what the Spanish Empire wanted.

When three hundred years of colonialism ended in 1820, Mexico was by and large a Catholic state. The Spaniards may have left Mexico, but their GOD stays. The saints of Dominican Order preaching the gospel are all sitting in Templo de Santo Domingo, showered with gold, literally.

Today Templo de Santo Domingo is essentially divided into 3 parts: the sanctuary is open to the public free of charge; the former monastery now is the Cultural Centre of Oaxaca, a museum where the pre-colonial gods of indigenous people are under the same roof as the Christ, in one statue wearing a crown characteristically native; the garden attached to the monastery now is the Botanical Garden of Oaxaca, with a very impressive collection of cactus, agave, corn, trees with a variety of beautiful flowers unique to the region. A charming young lady wearing a summer hat gave a 1.5-hour tour in Spanish, guiding the group through the paved paths in the garden, calmly gave an alarming instruction: you are allowed to pick up flowers falling on the ground, but many are poisonous (i.e. please act with your own judgement!). Today, I am glad to report that M was kind enough to translate this very important warning into English for me.

A Xipe Totec god from 900 A.D. and a statue of the Christ, the Cultural Centre of Oaxaca, May 2019

from the Botanical Garden of Oaxaca, May 2019

I was overloaded with everything for the first full day in Oaxaca, its past, present, and perhaps future (in hallucination?) and effectively forget what I did for that evening. I just hope that I don’t miss anything important.

Astoria, New York

6/9/2019

Entering Mesoamerica (1) : Exploring Oaxaca and Mexico City - Preface

Read more of Shenzhan Liao’s blog Making Sense. 意