Viewing entries in
World

Entering Mesoamerica (4): Exploring Oaxaca and Mexico City - La Casa Azul / The Blue House of Frida

Entering Mesoamerica (4): Exploring Oaxaca and Mexico City - La Casa Azul / The Blue House of Frida

By Shenzhan/申展

Cover photo: Viva la Vida (Live Life), Frida Kahlo, Frida Kahlo Museum, 1954.

该文有中文版本 “走进中美洲(四):Oaxaca与墨西哥之旅——La Casa Azul和Frida的“蓝房子”

Frida Kahlo (1907-1954) is perhaps the most famous Mexican artist that I know before this Mexico trip. I remember my first Christmas in New York, walking in the cold crisp air passing by a midtown gallery, my attention was caught by a large-sized oil painting of a brown-colored woman, short-haired with a rather serious look on her face, a light mustache above her upper lip, and two strikingly thick eyebrows touching each other. Not too long afterwards I got to know it was a portrait of Frida, THE Mexican artist who is internationally known for her tragic life accident, complicated romantic relationships with, among many others, Diego Rivera (1886 - 1957), and her passion for life and art, which was deeply rooted in the indigenous Mexican tradition. Two weeks before the trip, I tried to get into “Frida Kahlo: Appearances Can Ben Deceiving”, a special exhibition on Frida’s life and work at the Brooklyn Museum in New York. The tickets were sold out until the end of the show. (WELL, I am going to Mexico City anyway !)

La Casa Azul (the Blue House), Frida Kahlo Museum, Coyoacan, Mexico City, May 2019.

La Casa Azul (the Blue House), Frida Kahlo Museum, Coyoacan, Mexico City, May 2019.

At 3 pm on May 29, 2019, I was waiting outside of Frida Kahlo Museum, in Coyoacan, a historical town in southern Mexico City. The museum is where Frida was born, and where she breathed her last. It’s a charming two-story house with a large beautiful garden, surrounded by a wall painted electric cobalt blue. Some of Frida’s art works are displayed here, as well as her kitchen, the art studio Diego built for her with volcanic rocks, her daybed and night bedroom, and Diego’s room (the couple had separate bedrooms later in life). There is always a line getting into the museum. Mexicans adore Frida and affectionately call the museum “La Casa Azul” (the Blue House).

La Casa Azul does not collect Frida’s most famous art works, which would have been in the hands of private collectors and museums. Though standing in front of “Viva la Vida” (Live Life), I was overwhelmed by the strong, genuine longing for life Frida demonstrated in the painting - a still life of watermelons, some cut open with the red juicy meat exposed with black seeds. It is the last painting Frida did. A few days later, just moments before she passed away, Frida added the words “Viva la Vida” in one cut-open watermelon at the very front. Despite all she had to suffer -- her life had been subject to pain, medication, corsets, fragile health, and a constant longing for the freedom her body couldn’t allow ever since the devastating accident that fractured multiple parts of her body when she was 18; her complicated relationship with Diego Rivera, who’s 20 years in her senior and already an internationally famous muralist when they married in 1929. While both had love affairs throughout their marriage, Frida was more expressive in art of her frustrations about Diego’s affairs, one of them involving her own sister -- in the last moments of her life at the age of 47, despite all the pain, frustrations, heartbroken moments, life was still worth living. Viva la Vida!

Viva la Vida (Live Life), 1954, Frida Kahlo Museum, Mexico City

Viva la Vida (Live Life), 1954, Frida Kahlo Museum, Mexico City

In spite of her love for Diego, Frida’s affairs with men and women certainly add color to her international fame. Her many lovers include Nickolas Muray (1892-1965), who photographed some of the best pictures of Frida during their 10-year on-and-off affair starting in 1931, shortly after her marriage to Diego. One of the photographs from 1939 is on display at La Casa Azul. In the photo, Frida radiates a beauty with a soft smile that carries a fading tenderness, which I rarely see from her most famous self-portraits or other photographs.

Frida Kahlo, photographed by Nickolas Muray, New York, 1939

Frida Kahlo, photographed by Nickolas Muray, New York, 1939

Her brief affair with Leon Trotsky (1879 - 1940) has a dedicated section in the gallery of La Casa Azul. Trotsky, in exile from the Soviet Union, stayed with Diego and Frida for two years here from 1937 to 1939. He later moved to a house nearby after a quarrel with Diego ( I wonder why!) and was assassinated there, now the Leon Trotsky Museum (Needless to say, Coyoacan is a storied town because of Frida and Trotsky!). Their tumultuous relationship is demonstrated in a 1937 self-portrait  Frida dedicated to her lover at the time.

My favorite discovery though was her yet another passionate affair with Isamu Noguchi (1904–1988), a critically acclaimed Japanese-American sculptor. Every morning on weekends, I pass by the Noguchi Museum in Long Island City, New York on a bike but have never thought there was a connection between these two artists. Their affair was brief, yet they remain friends until Frida’s death in 1954. Noguchi sent to Frida a collection of butterflies, still in a case hanging on the ceiling of her nightbed. On the blue wall around a corner in the garden printed the lyrics of a song left by Patti Smith in 2012, titled “Noguchi’s Butterflies”:

by Shenzhan, May 29, 2019

by Shenzhan, May 29, 2019

Noguchi’s butterflies above Frida’s nightbed, by Shenzhan/申展, May 29, 2019

Noguchi’s butterflies above Frida’s nightbed, by Shenzhan/申展, May 29, 2019

A sculpture at Noguchi Museum, Long Island City, New York.

A sculpture at Noguchi Museum, Long Island City, New York.

In the end, it’s her deepest love of native Mexican folk art that completes Frida Kahlo 's international fame. Through her art, she finally broke free from the corset that restrained her body, the relationships she had herself entangled, and made the native folk art from her beloved land stand out in the post-colonial Mexico and the world. In Paris, London, New York, she was celebrating her native culture, brilliantly, unapologetically, and rebelliously. Like her famed husband Diego, who’s known for making communist murals, Frida was deeply committed to the cause of communism (at the foot of her night-bed, there are portraits of Marx, Engels, Lenin, Stalin and Mao!). And yet, her self-portraits and other paintings, tell a much more personal story of her as an individual - perhaps, the struggle she endured between a fragile body and a mind longing for freedom, can be viewed as a symbolic one between a Mexico with thousands of years of pre-colonial tradition in heart and soul and a colonial history that still dominates every part of Mexican life today. That said, as the physical struggle is so essential as a human experience, it could be viewed as a symbol for almost any type of struggle. For better or worse, Frida made native Mexican folk art cool in the world -- if you happened to try to get a ticket to the Frida show at the Brooklyn Museum this May, you would know exactly what I mean.

After dawn that evening, I found myself walking with a group of 20 or so people in the garden following a middle-aged woman, who dressed up in traditional Tehuana fashion that Frida is known for, and a plump round-faced man in western suits playing violin. It was a dramatization of Frida’s life played in the garden every last Wednesday of the month. The show was entirely in Spanish, yet the actress deftly acted out scenes while taking the group through the garden, sometimes with a monologue when she stood on the steps of a pyramid Diego built for Frida; sometimes a dialogue she suddenly turned to the audience; and, sometimes a song as the violin played a melody in the background. I could only guess that the performance was quite engaging from the response of the audience, but nevertheless enjoyed the music, singing, and the fact that I was walking in Frida’s garden after sunset, when this unusual yet enchanting experience was unfolding. The green lush plants and the cobalt blue wall grew darker and softer in the twilight.

A dramatization of Frida, Frida Kahlo Museum, May 29, 2019

A dramatization of Frida, Frida Kahlo Museum, May 29, 2019

A garden in the twilight, Frida Kahlo Museum, May 29, 2019

A garden in the twilight, Frida Kahlo Museum, May 29, 2019

Walking out of La Casa Azul, I can now claim myself a true fan of Frida Kahlo.

Astoria, New York

6/30/2019

Related essay:

Entering Mesoamerica (3): Exploring Oaxaca and Mexico City - A VERY Brief Glance of the Ancient Civilizations

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

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

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






Entering Mesoamerica (3): Exploring Oaxaca and Mexico City - A VERY Brief Glance of the Ancient Civilizations

Entering Mesoamerica (3): Exploring Oaxaca and Mexico City - A VERY Brief Glance of the Ancient Civilizations

By Shenzhan/申展

Cover photo: Shenzhan standing on top of the Sun, Teotihucán, San Juan, Mexico, May 2019

该文有中文版本 “走进中美洲(三):Oaxaca与墨西哥之旅——古文明一瞥”

I went to Monte Albán in the morning of May 24, 2019, a hot and dry Friday. It’s an archaeological site of an ancient city over 6,400 feet (1,900 meters) above the sea level, higher than Oaxaca City. After a 20-minute ride in a small yet comfortable van from Hotel Rivera del Angel, M and I entered the site from its north-east corner, with a 2007 Lonely Planet as our guide.

A city from 500 B.C. is below us. To the south is the Main Plaza, the largest and tallest among all stone structures on site. Small buildings are laid out in the vast flat space between the Main Plaza and a north plaza. Scattering in the space, there were a group of students led by their teacher explaining the drainage system running underneath the ground; random vendors with small artifacts to sell; and a couple of tiny lizards sunbathing on the side. The space is said to be an ancient court for the Mesoamerican Ballgame*(more in Shenzhan’s THOUGHT BUBBLE), a ritualistic game dated back to 1200 B.C.. Covered by only grass (there is one lush giant tree standing at a corner to offer some shade from the brutal sun in the high land), this court now is still lined up with platforms, stone structures probably built for aristocracies to watch the game, and for priests to perform sacrificial rituals. One structure nearby was identified as los Danzantes (the Dancers), as carvings of dancers were discovered inside.

Monte Albán from the Main Plaza to the south, Oaxaca, May 2019

Monte Albán from the Main Plaza to the south, Oaxaca, May 2019

Shenzhan’s THOUGHT BUBBLE: I am fascinated by the ancient Mesoamerican Ballgame. According to archaeological discoveries, the Mesoamerican Ballgame was highly symbolic: the ball might represent the sun, and the court the sky. Evidently it was very sacred and popular among all Mesoamerican civilizations (Omelc, Maya, Zapotec, Mixtec, etc.) since similar courts were built in almost every ancient city discovered. The game is said to be played by two teams chasing a rather heavy ball made of hard rubber. Over centuries, there were variations in different regions and at different times. Some later courts would have a ring in the middle for goal. While the purpose of the ballgame and exactly how it was played are still a mystery, it’s almost certain that they were symbolic and religious. Some even argue that they were also for settling disputes among tribes in order to avoid wars (how civil!). One object called the “yoke”, often in the shape of frogs or toads and carved with motifs of local gods, is associated with the game. I tend to believe that the yoke was only used for rituals as I can hardly imagine any player could wear it while chasing the hard rubber ball. It does look powerful and full of magic, though.
A Ballplayer, Mexico, Jalisco, 100 B.C. to 300 A.D., the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

A Ballplayer, Mexico, Jalisco, 100 B.C. to 300 A.D., the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Frog Yoke, Mexico, Classic Veracruz, 6th - 8th Century, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

Frog Yoke, Mexico, Classic Veracruz, 6th - 8th Century, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

All the structures on the site are along a north-south axis except for one, uncharacteristically named in Lonely Planet as “Edificio J” , in front of the Main Plaza. Its 45-degree angle is said to be built for astronomical observations in order for the priests to track the passage of the sun and calculate the seasons. Standing on top of the steps of the Main Plaza, I tried to imagine the priests standing on these structures to provide guidance for agricultural activities in ancient times. Mesoamerican civilizations in general followed a 360-day solar calendar (plus 5 unnamed days to make it 365 days in total)  for agricultural cycles and a 260-day calendar for ritual activities, which is remarkably similar to Chinese yin-yang calendars!

“Edificio J”, Monte Albán, Oaxaca, Mexico

“Edificio J”, Monte Albán, Oaxaca, Mexico

Not surprisingly, unlike Oaxaca City, there is little trace of colonialism except for a new fresco of Alfonso Caso (1896-1970) at the entrance of the site. Caso is called the “Discoverer of Monte Albán”, and was responsible for the 1931 archaeological excavation of the site, which by then has been abandoned for centuries since 850 A.D. Caso appears in the fresco with a pair of glasses, western-style shirt and pants, and knee-high boots. But at least he’s Mexican!

Even with very brief time in Mexico, one could tell its history is essentially divided into two by the year of 1521: pre-colonial period and after. Like many old empires encountering Western European colonialism (including China's Qing Empire), it is the year when Tenochtitlán, the capital of the Aztec Empire and current day Mexico City fell under the attack of the Spanish general Hernán Cortés , who started conquering Central America with a couple of ships, 600 soldiers, a few cannons ( not always functioning but nevertheless very scary to the natives), dogs and horses (creatures natives haven’t seen before), etc. Today when one walks in the streets of Oaxaca and Mexico City, its colonial past is quite obvious: the language spoken is largely Spanish (I guess, since I couldn’t tell if an indigenous language -- there are over 68 or more of them -- is spoken anyway…), the buildings are mostly in European style*(more in Shenzhan’s THOUGHT BUBBLE), and the churches are by and large Catholic.

Shenzhan’s THOUGHT BUBBLE: Mexico City was rebuilt by the Spaniards after the conquering. In its recent modern history, Mexico City underwent many construction projects erecting structures by architects from Italy and France, especially during the 31-year presidency of Porfirio Diaz (1876–1880, 1884–1911), who was determined to build a modern, sophisticated capital of Mexico that could rival Paris or London. Sitting on the top deck of the Turi City Bus touring around the historical district of Mexico City, I learned most of the buildings, monuments and statues were built during the Porfirio. A major street in Oaxaca City is named after the president too. Porfirio is controversial though: his presidency is for sure too long; Major cultural projects can easily be controversial anyway. Plus he ended up in Paris and is still buried there!

However, for a land where ancient civilizations can be traced back to 3500 B.C. and earlier times, its colonial history is the only very recent. Like other regions in the world, civilizations here clustered in certain geographic areas, goods and people were traded and exchanged, cities like Monte Albán were built, reached their peaks as the center for certain civilization, and were abandoned when the civilization collapsed. Unlike China, Rome or Egypt, no single Mesoamerican civilization overcame the entire region of Central America. Obviously civilizations in this region shared lots of similarities such as their religions, calendars, architecture, etc. However the word “Mesoamerican civilization” is merely a concept for the convenience of western-eccentric archaeologists, anthropologists and historians.

Historians generally divide pre-Columbian Mesoamerican history into several major periods: Archaic era (before 2600 B.C.) when archaeological discoveries suggest agricultural settlements already existed; Pre-classic or Formative era (2000 B.C. to 250 C.E.) when Olmec (1200 B.C. to 400 B.C.) centered around Veracruz and Tabasco in the Gulf of Mexico came to known today for their colossal heads and jade masks. In the south, Zapotec people in the Valley of Oaxaca started to build Monte Albán and the process continued for centuries; Classic era (150 - 900 C.E.) during which Zapotec continued to flourish while Maya civilization started to dominate the east part of the Gulf of Mexico, eventually compassing a large area from modern-day Yucatán, Quintana Roo, Campeche, Tabasco, and Chiapas in Mexico and southward through Guatemala, Belize, El Salvador and Honduras. In today’s Valley of Mexico, the ancient city of Teotihuacán was built, though its founder was a long debate. At the end of this era, several civilizations declined or collapsed. Cities like Monte Albán and Teotihuacán declined and eventually were abandoned; Post-classic era (900 to 1521) saw a few civilizations continued such as Maya and Zapotec, and the rise of newcomers such as the Aztec. The Aztecs were late to the political scene in the Valley of Mexico but managed to start its empire in the 15th Century and was on its way to dominate Central Mexico until it was met (and stopped) by the Spaniards. The history after is changed by colonialism.

This super simplified history of the Central America region obviously fails to include many important details, peoples and civilizations, as well as the complex relationships among them. However, keeping this rough timeline in mind did provide me a helpful historical orientation on day trips to ancient sites like Monte Albán in Oaxaca and Teotihuacán near Mexico City. Not only it was helpful, it was also inspiring to realize that Mesoamerica has much older civilizations that have completed many cycles in the pre-colonial period. Yet, the stunning signature of their wisdom has survived thousands of years, numerous wars, and cultural genocide when civilizations clash.

Olmec Colossal Head, Museo de Anthropologia de Xalapa, Xalapa, Mexico.Source: TripAdvisor

Olmec Colossal Head, Museo de Anthropologia de Xalapa, Xalapa, Mexico.

Source: TripAdvisor

Jade Mask, Mexico, Olmec, 10th - 6th Century B.C., the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Jade Mask, Mexico, Olmec, 10th - 6th Century B.C., the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

In a much larger scale, Teotihuacán to Mexico City is like Monte Albán to Oaxaca City. Leaving at 6: 40 am on May 30, 2019 from Cayoacán, I took an Uber, a subway and a bus from Mexico Norte Bus Terminal. By 9:00 am, I was standing (somewhat proudly, for my skill navigating the public transportation system in the humongous Mexico City)  in front of the entrance to Teotihuacán. To get the best of the trip, I managed to hire Manuel, an English tour guide. Whenever Manuel wanted to call my attention, he would start with “hei, lady!” (versus “Ladies and Gentlemen”, as he would usually do to address a group). Teotihuacán, named by the Aztecs as “the birthplace of the gods”, was built around 100 B.C. and at its peak the largest city in America with a population likely surpassing 250,000.  Its three main pyramids, the Moon, the Sun and Quetzal (bird) Coatle (serpent), “the Feathered Serpent”, are positioned according to the three stars of the Orion, the same constellation which guided the ancient Egyptians to build their great pyramids, over 2,500 years earlier. The luxury of having Manuel was to learn many amazing tales of ancient science, symbolism and astrology. However, being the only one bearing the cost, I literally gave him my last MX dollar in cash when we departed, amusingly, at the central sacrificial platform in front of the Moon! After Manuel left, I climbed up the Moon, which offers the unparalleled view of the magnificent axial avenue; and the Sun, which was most tough as it is the tallest of all the structures at Teotihuacán. Looking up from the foot of the Sun, the steps literally looked like the stairs to heaven! With the temperature rising as the day went, and absolutely no shades, the journey certainly reminds me that the Aztecs called the pyramid “the Sun” for a good reason!

the Moon, Teotihuacán, San Juan, Mexico

the Moon, Teotihuacán, San Juan, Mexico

the Moon and the Avenue of the Death, from the Sun, Teotihuacán, San Juan, Mexico

the Moon and the Avenue of the Death, from the Sun, Teotihuacán, San Juan, Mexico

the Sun, Teotichuan, San Juan, Mexico

the Sun, Teotichuan, San Juan, Mexico

I love ancient sites. It’s exciting to know that ancient people might have been standing exactly the same spot as I was, as if energies mysteriously overlap with each other, several thousand years apart. It is also a tremendously humbling experience to realize that ancient civilizations, despite the fact that they have disappeared long time ago, did leave these amazing structures standing in front of my eyes, telling me, an individual who doesn’t speak their language and hasn’t encountered a single soul of their time, their ways of thinking and understanding of the universe. I am not sure that any nation, state or cultural groups today, no matter how powerful they appear on media, will be certain to achieve the same.

Seriously, what can we leave behind for people after thousands of years to visit, and to admire?

Astoria, New York

6/17/2019

Related essay:

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

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

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


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

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.

Street Art, Oaxaca, May 2019

Street Art, Oaxaca, May 2019

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

“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!  

Street art, Oaxaca, May 2019

Street art, Oaxaca, May 2019

Street art, Oaxaca, May 2019

Street art, Oaxaca, May 2019

Street art, Oaxaca, May 2019

Street art, Oaxaca, May 2019

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

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

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

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

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

Related essay:

Entering Mesoamerica (3): Exploring Oaxaca and Mexico City - A VERY Brief Glance of the Ancient Civilizations

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

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