Category Archives: Huatulco

Huatulco

Surf Etiquette – Is It Still a Thing?

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By Randy Redmon

To the casual observer, watching surfers out in the water looks a bit disorganized, but for surfers, it is anything but. There are actually unwritten rules out in the water. These rules are called “Surf Etiquette” and if they are respected, you will see that everybody will get their fair share of waves.
Every surf spot throughout the world has its own special vibe (rules/etiquette). There are, however, some rules of surf etiquette that all must respect and the quicker you learn them, the less drama you will encounter during your surfing experience.

So, what are some of the common universal etiquette rules? Well let’s frame them as “things that you shouldn’t do”:

  1. Probably one of the most important things to remember: never show up to a new surf break with a group of surfers and paddle out all as one group. This is considered rude. If you must travel in a group, break up into small groups of 1-3 and paddle out in intervals.
  2. Read the room! It’s easy to see who the dominant surfers are (a.k.a. local surfers). These folks deserve respect and get the right of way. Remember, this is their turf and you are a visitor. Take the scrap waves and don’t insist on the set waves. This will go a long way in gaining the respect of the locals. Yes, this may take some time, but once you have gained that respect, they might possibly invite you to the sweet spot of the takeoff.
  3. Don’t snake! Snaking is where a surfer will paddle out and maneuver in and around the group of surfers that have already been waiting, to try to get into position before the rest. Some try to do this nonchalantly, but pretty much everybody knows what they are doing. So be patient. Take your spot in the back of the pack and wait your turn.
  4. Do not paddle out into the drop zone. Watch the waves and the surfers getting into position and take a wide berth to stay out of their way. Always keep an eye out for incoming surfers.
  5. Do not drop in on other surfers. The surfer who’s closest to the peak has the right of way. What’s the peak? That’s where the wave is starting to break, so watch for this and your surrounding surfers. If you are dropping in, always look to the way you’re going to ensure this is actually your wave and that you are not dropping in on someone else. Yes, accidents do happen and you may drop in on someone, but a simple apology goes a long way. Learn from your mistake, but don’t do it twice in one session.
  6. Do not be obnoxious. Be friendly in the lineup! That does not mean being overly friendly, but a genuine smile goes a long way! A word of caution: eyeballing or scanning your fellow surfers can give off the wrong signal, even if you don’t mean it to. Surfing is a selfish sport and everybody is out for their own wave and pleasure. On the flip side, however, it’s important to be conscious of other surfer’s situations around you. Everyone needs to watch out for the others because when things go wrong, it can go wrong real fast. This is especially the case in bigger surf.

The bottom line: if we all remember basic surf etiquette and observe the local “vibe,” you will have done your part to add to a surf environment that’s friendly and not hostile. And this is true even before you hit the beach. Respect the surrounding community.

If we all do our part, we are supporting a beautiful and healthy sport that can be life-changing. All it takes is getting that one good wave that you’ll remember for the rest of the night and beyond. So make sure that happens with the support of your fellow surfers and without any hard feelings.

Huatulco

Pre-Hispanic Legends that Explained the Natural World*

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By Kary Vannice

Historically, every culture in the world has passed down myths and legends to explain the origins of different elements of our natural world. Here are a select few that originate from the region of Mexico.

The Legend of the Bat

The story goes that, long ago, the bat was the most beautiful bird in nature. The bat, seeing that other birds also had beautiful feathers, decided to go up to heaven to ask the Creator to fill his body with the most beautiful plumage. The Creator had no feathers to give him, so instead gave him permission to go down to Earth and claim a feather from each bird.

Back on land, the bat only selected the birds with the most beautiful feathers. And soon, he had filled his body with feathers of many different colors and shapes. From that moment on, the bat boasted about its exquisite feathers in front of everyone and believed that it was superior to the rest of the birds. He even humiliated them.

The Creator perceived the proud attitude of the bat and decided to pluck its feathers. And when he flapped his wings, his plumage instantly shed from his skin. And all the other birds witnessed the shower of colored feathers.

It is for this reason the bat now has no feathers and lives in caves so as not to remember the beautiful colors it once had and lost.

The Legend of the Hummingbird

When the gods created the world, they assigned a task to everything that inhabited it. Stones, trees, and animals all had a mission. But when they finished creating the universe, they realized that they had forgotten something essential: a being who had the task of carrying wishes and thoughts from one place to another, a messenger.

The gods then realized that they had run out of corn and mud, materials with which they had created all the other beings. It was then that they found a piece of jade and carved it into the shape of a small arrow. Then they blew on it, and it went flying off at full speed. The small piece of jade became a hummingbird.

Legend has it that the delicacy of this being allowed it to approach the flowers without moving a single one of its petals and that all the colors of the rainbow shone in its plumage. In addition to being the messengers of the gods, hummingbirds also became the bearers of human thoughts and desires, including messages from the dead.

The men then tried to capture the bird and adorn themselves with its feathers. But the gods got angry and forbade it, telling them that any man who caught a hummingbird would be punished. That is why hummingbirds have never been captive birds of man.

Since then, it is said that the proximity of a hummingbird is good luck. But not only that, its presence also indicates that someone has wished you well and that the bird, as light as it, would carry your thoughts and desires from one place to another.

The Legend of the Cempasúchil (Mexican Marigold)

An old story says that, many years ago, there lived two young people in love: the girl Xóchitl and the boy Huitzilin.

One day, the boy climbed to the top of a mountain seeking the blessing of the Sun God to ensure their love story would last forever. There, Tonatiuh fulfilled the couple’s wish and blessed their love.

Sometime later, Huitzilin had to go to war, and Xóchitl waited for his return. But the young man never returned, and Xóchitl spent her days grieving.

Legend has it that, seeing that the girl was so sad, the Sun God decided to transform her into a beautiful flower. Soon, a hummingbird perched on the petals of the flower, yellow as the sun. The flower immediately recognized her beloved Huitzilin, who returned transformed into a precious bird.

The Legend of the Firefly

A long, long time ago in the Mayab (Earth in its beginnings), there was a man who could cure all diseases. The news spread, and soon many people came to him seeking healing. To cure their ills, he would take out a small green stone from his pocket and whisper a few words to it. This was enough to cure them.

But one day, the man went out for a walk in the jungle. He walked so much that he became very tired. So, he decided to sleep for a while under a tree. But after a few minutes, a heavy rain woke him up, and he ran toward his house, and in his haste, the green stone fell out of his pocket.

Arriving at his house, he found a woman was waiting for him. She needed him to heal her child. But when he went looking for his stone, he didn’t find it. And he began to wonder how he would find something so small in such a big jungle.

“I know!” said the hopeful man, “I’ll ask Cocay to help!”

Cocay was a small but very agile and fast-flying insect. And he knew every corner of the jungle very well!

Cocay gladly volunteered to look for the stone. He searched in every corner of the jungle among the leaves and grass. He searched among the branches of the trees and the water of the creek. And despite being exhausted, Cocay did not want to stop. When night fell, Cocay cried inconsolably because he wanted to keep looking, but he could no longer see. Then, all of a sudden, his little body began to glow and light up, and the tiny insect was able to keep searching … until he found the little green stone.

Very happy, Cocay took the stone to its owner. The healer, upon seeing the little insect shine, felt so proud that he told him: “You have shown your dedication, effort, and perseverance. You have your own light, little Cocay, and from now on, you will always have it. Your body will shine in the middle of the night.”

And from that day on, Cocay and all his family turned into fireflies.

The Legend of the Toads and the Rain

One day, some farmers had planted corn, and they waited for it to rain. But the water never came. So, they thought to send a bird named Papán to go for the rain. And Papán the bird said “Yes,” and took off to bring the water back.

When the bird, Papán, got to where the rain was, he said, “”Hey, rain! The men who have planted corn need you.”

And the rain answered, “Yes, come on, of course. We will go together at the same time.

And the rain and Papán began the journey to where the corn was planted. But on the way, Papán couldn’t stand the rain because it was so thick. Papán fell from the sky with wet wings.

When Papán did not arrive with the water, the farmers thought to send another bird for the rain. It was a bird named Cheque Cheque.

When Cheque Cheque got to where the rain was, he said, “Hey, rain. I have come for you. You are sorely missed where the farmers have planted the corn.”

Then the rain replied, “Okay, I’ll go where I’m needed. Only we must go together at the same time.”

And the two set out for the sown field. But, along the journey, Cheque Cheque couldn’t stand the rain either; and he too fell from the sky with soaked wings.

So, the farmers thought and thought about who to send for the water. After much thought, they decided to invite the toads.

The toads agreed to go for the rain. And, as they were organized, they advised each other.

“Let’s see, big-footed toad. You are going to put yourself on the hill of that hill. You, dwarf toad, are going to stand on the top of the next hill. And you, big-mouthed toad, will stand on the last hill of the road.”

When the chubby-cheeked toad arrived to where the rain was, he said, “I’ve come for you, rain. They need you a lot where the corn is planted.”

“But how will we go together? Do you fly like a bird?” asked the rain.

“I don’t fly like the birds. But I jump very high. And, from jump to jump, I will take you to where the corn has been planted. And so that you know the way, I will sing on each hill. Wherever you listen to my song, there you will go.”

The rain agreed, and the two began the journey. The chubby-cheeked toad jumped very high and lost sight of the rain.

Then, the rain heard the song of the big-footed toad on the first hill. And there he went. Next, the same rain heard the song of the dwarf toad on the next hill, and she continued her journey there. Finally, the rain heard another song. It was the song of the big-mouthed toad waiting for her on the last hill. And that is where the water went.

Thus, singing to the rain, among all the toads, they took the water to where it was needed. And the farmers were very grateful to them.

Since then, every time it’s going to rain, the toads begin to sing.

*Translated from various sources on the internet.

Huatulco

The Myths and Legends of the Conquest: Moctezuma II vs. Hernán Cortés

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By Julie Etra

Various myths and legends surround the arrival of Hernán Cortés at the court of the last Mexican emperor, Moctezuma II (there are many other spellings) in Tenochtitlán, located in present-day Mexico City. Perhaps the most interesting story is how Cortés was perceived. One version is that the Mexica (Aztec descendants, also called Nahua) perceived him as the long-lost god Quetzalcóatl.

Who was Quetzalcóatl?

Quetzalcóatl (“feathered serpent” or “plumed serpent”) is the Nahuatl name for the feathered-serpent deity of ancient Mesoamerican culture; Quetzalcóatl is not to be confused with Quetzalcoatlus, which is a member of the ancient group of flying reptiles called pterosaurs, and is the largest flying animal, with a wingspan up to 52 feet. It lived during the late Cretaceous period (from 145 to 66 million years ago) and was indeed named for the Nahua god.

Quetzalcóatl has a complicated genealogy, but was recognized as the creator god, creator of mankind, as well as the sun, wind, and air. According to one version (there are many) Quetzalcóatl was coerced by Tezcatlipoca, the god of the night sky (among other things), into getting drunk on pulque (fermented agave juice), and attempted to seduce his older sister, Quetzalpetlatl, a celibate priestess. The next morning, Quetzalcóatl, embarrassed and regretful, either fled in a canoe to the east or laid himself down in a stone casket and set himself on fire, and his ashes rose and traveled to the east, turning into the morning star. The Mexica awaited his return, and in theory mistook Cortés for the long-awaited god.

Cortés as Quetzalcóatl

The Mexica were already well aware of the Spanish army’s march from Veracruz, where Cortés’ ship had landed, and of his appearance leading the cabalgada (cavalry, i.e., soldiers on horseback) to the capital, where they arrived on November 8, 1519. Complicating the interpretation that he was perceived as a god is the assumption the Spaniards and the Nahua had a similar concept of what ‘god’ meant, which is certainly not true, as the Nahua world consisted of many gods.

History is always retold by the conqueror, so this myth was documented by the Spaniards in the 16th century, 50 years after the conquest (the most famous documentation is in Book XII of the Florentine Codex. (A codex [pl. codices], is a Mesoamerican manuscript, produced by the Aztecs, the Nahua, or Spanish priests. The Florentine Codex was written by the Franciscan friar Bernardino de Sahagún working with native people – the text is in Nahuatl; it is now located in the Laurentian Library in Florence, Italy.)

Moctezuma had warned the Spaniards not to enter the city and was trying to delay their arrival until a more auspicious date on the Nahua calendar. Legend has it that the Nahua were meek, and that Moctezuma was deferential to Cortés. The Spanish description of the Nahua as naïve and simple of course supports their rationale for the brutal conquest.

What do we know about the first meeting between the last monarch and the Spanish conquistador? A special issue of Arqueología Mexicana, a magazine put out by INAH, Mexico’s National Institute of Anthropology and History, indicates that Moctezuma was fully aware of Cortés’ intent, but he was cordial (keep in mind that translations between Moctezuma and Cortés were conducted by Malintzin, a multilingual Nahua woman better known as La Malinche). According to Cortés, the Mexica kissed the ground in front of him, but they stopped him in his attempt to embrace Moctezuma (we know the Spaniards reeked; a humorous interpretation is that a returning and revered god would not smell that bad), but neither gesture is mentioned by indigenous accounts.

If Moctezuma’s entourage really believed they were facing Quetzalcóatl, their behavior does not make sense; they did, however, offer him garlands and covered him in flowers (perhaps a way of dealing with the stench) and other gifts. In a magical-religious context, it is possible that this was meant to placate an antagonist. Cortés offered glass beads known as margaritas.

Supposedly the first words spoken by Cortés were “Are you really Moctezuma?” manifesting his surprise at finally meeting this almost mythic figure. Moctezuma cordially answered “Yes, it is I.” According to some scholars, politeness in the Mexica culture was a way to assert dominance and show superiority. If indeed initially, or for a few months, Moctezuma thought Cortés was the returning feathered serpent, Cortés found Tenochtitlán to be mythical, a resplendent city glittering in the sun in the distance. Bernal Díaz del Castillo, a conquistador with Cortés, wrote a memoir, The True History of the Conquest of New Spain in 1568; he wrote that upon approaching Tenochtitlán, “It was all so wonderful that I do not know how to describe this first glimpse of things never heard of, or dreamed of before.”

Moctezuma already knew the Mexica were defeated, since the Spanish were accompanied by the Tlaxcaltecas (from the present-day state of Tlaxcala). The Tlaxcaltecas were skilled, fierce fighters who successfully resisted Moctezuma’s forces and greatly resented the tax collectors from Tenochtitlán. Cortés had subjugated the Tlaxcaltecas en route to Tenochtitlán, and convinced them to become allies in the conquest of Moctezuma.

There’s More to the Story

If you are interested in this remarkable history, I suggest you read Díaz del Castillo’s book (used copies are available on Amazon for less than $10 US). However, recall that the idea that Cortés was perceived as a returning god was not developed until after the conquest; also note that the carefully formulated, formal speech Moctezuma delivered to Cortés, which implies Moctezuma sees Cortés as some sort of divinity, has been misinterpreted. Even Wikipedia debunks the notion: “The legend of the returning lords, originated during the Spanish-Mexica war in Cortés’ reworking of Moctezuma’s welcome speech, had by the 1550s merged with the Cortés-as-Quetzalcóatl legend that the Franciscans had started spreading in the 1530s.”

So, there you have it, a post-conquest myth proliferated by the conquerors and religious figures, but on closer examination, we find its origins are more complicated.

Huatulco

Monarchs Butterflies Migrate, Marigolds Bloom: Myths, Legends, and Politics of the Day of the Dead

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By Deborah Van Hoewyk

If you spend time in Oaxaca, you’ve heard of El Día de los Muertos, or the Day of the Dead. Maybe as a snowbird, you’ve even arrived in Mexico in time to watch or participate in the celebrations; The Eye has published any number of articles on it. This year’s Day of the Dead – it’s really two days – takes place on November 1 and 2, 2022.

The general idea is that the border between the world of the spirits and the world of the living dissolves, allowing the departed souls to return and celebrate with those they left behind. People prepare altars (ofrendas) at grave sites or in their homes, decorated with mementos of their loved ones, along with food and drink for the celebration and return journey. November 1 is thought to be when the souls of children come back to visit, and November 2 is the return of the souls of adults.

The Disputed Origins of the Day of the Dead

Past historians have mostly proposed that the holiday is “syncretic,” a combination of the traditions of two (or more) cultures. In this case, the synthesis combines the pre-Hispanic Day of the Dead, intended by various ancient indigenous peoples as a remembrance of the dead, with the imported Catholic traditions of the conquistadores, All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day. This is the way the Day of the Dead is taught in schools, and how it has been listed in Mexico’s “Representative List of Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity,” a program of UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization).

Today, however, Mexican historians are less likely to agree that what we see now is genuinely a product of any classic indigenous culture (dated generally from 500 BCE – 1521 CE, when the Aztec empire fell to Cortés), or even of the synthesis between indigenous and colonial events. In a special issue (2006) of Cuadernos Patrimonio Cultural y Turismo (Notebooks of Cultural Heritage and Tourism), a publication of the Consejo Nacional para la Cultura y los Artes (National Council for Culture and the Arts, now the Secretariat for Culture), fifteen academics of various disciplines, mostly history and anthropology, explore the issues involved in understanding the Day of the Dead.

Maybe it was syncretic. Maybe it came from similar celebrations in Europe, brought over by the Spaniards. Its importance may lie in the rituals that “tame death” and ensure continuation of life as it was. Maybe it’s a 20th-century evolution of President Lázaro Cárdenas del Río’s program to promote nationalism and national pride through indigenismo, the valuing of all things indigenous, which is a story in itself for some other time.

Mythic Origins of El Día de los Muertos

Despite the disagreements on how the Day of the Dead came to be, there is no doubt that Mexico’s ancient peoples saw life and death as continuous, and had their own version of Day of the Dead. In the high plains of south-central Mexico, it was believed that death destroyed the body but the soul was indestructible. Many of these tales of the afterlife share common ideas with the mythologies of other cultures.

People who died natural deaths entered the afterlife in Chicunamictlán, a nine-level underworld of the Land of the Dead. Depending on the cause of death, there were other destinations for the dead. Children went to Chichihuacuauhco, where they were fed by the Tree of Milk – they waited there to repopulate the world after the human race was destroyed (not sure why that was supposed to happen!). Warriors killed in battle and women who died in childbirth went to Ilhuuicatl-Tonatiuh, the Kingdom of the Sun. Those who died by water, including rain and lightning, went to Tlalocán, the Mansion of the Moon.

Souls bound for Chicunamictlán were cremated with a sacrificed dog who served as a guide and companion on the arduous, four-year journey to the last level, Mictlán. The dog was a red xoloitzcuintle, or xolo, the ancient hairless dog of Mexico. The xolo was created by a dog god called Xolotl, a dog-headed man whose province was fire and lightning and whose job it was to accompany the sun each day from dawn to dark, the “dark” representing the death of the sun. Xolotl bears a striking resemblance in appearance and responsibilities to a similar Egyptian dog-god called Anubis.

The dog was first tasked with carrying the soul across the great river Apanohuaya, counted as the second level. The remaining levels of the journey presented horrendous challenges – giant underwater lizards, flying arrows, paths paved with slashing obsidian shards, mountains crashing together. On the sixth level, for example, the defunct soul had to cross Tecoylenaloyan (the land of a thousand fierce wild beasts); if a beast caught the soul, the soul had to throw open its chest and let the beast eat its heart – reminiscent of the Greek myth of Prometheus, whom Zeus punished for giving fire to humans by chaining him to a high mountain rock and sending eagles to eat his liver every day.

Upon reaching Mictlán, the soul finally could achieve eternal rest or be condemned to suffer further. Eternal rest was darkness, a great commingling into a single common soul.
Back on earth, the families of departed souls celebrated Hueymiccaylhuitl, the great feast of the dead intended to help the soul on its journey to Mictlán. The families offered up food, water, and tools to help meet the challenges; the holiday also allowed the souls to return and visit with their families. Sound familiar? Perhaps those who downplay the ancient roots of Day of the Dead have been unduly influenced by the commercially constructed holiday we now see.

Marigolds and Monarchs

When you think of El Día de los Muertos, what color comes to mind? Could it be … orange??? The color of marigolds, the color of monarch butterflies, of candles to light the way through the darkness of the graveyard. Those orange marigolds and monarch butterflies are linked to Day of the Dead through several ancient legends and beliefs.

Because the annual migration of the monarch butterfly ends in the fall in central Mexico, often in the Reserva de la Biosfera de la Mariposa Monarca in Michoacán. Monarchs have long been associated with the Day of the Dead, providing the means for departed souls to return to their families. Legend has it that the souls of the departed travel in the wings of the monarchs, and those wings shed their orange color on the marigolds. Mexican marigolds (Tagetes erecta) are members of the aster family, and in ancient times bloomed in the fall, just in time to take their colors from the monarchs.

There is an Aztec tale of two young lovers, Huitzilin (humming bird) and Xóchitl (flower), who celebrated their love by climbing to the top of a mountain to leave offerings to the god of the sun, Tonatiuh. When the couple is torn apart by war, and Huitzilin dies in battle, Xóchitl climbs the mountain to beg Tonatiuh to reunite them for eternity. Tonatiuh turns Xóchitl into a beautiful flower, the color of the sun – that would be orange, people – and who should arrive but a hummingbird, who carried the soul of Huitzilin. When the hummingbird touched the flower, it opened its 20 petals and gave off a wonderful scent. Thus marigolds, called cempasúchil, lead the returning souls both with their color, so bright it lights their way, and their unmistakable, pungent scent.

Day of the Dead in the 20th Century – Politics and Economics

Before President Cárdenas started promoting the Day of the Dead as indigenous tradition, there was La Calavera Catrina (the elegant skeleton). She was created in 1910, amid the opening salvos of the Mexican Revolution, by the political cartoonist José Guadalupe Posada (1851-1913). Posada created her to satirize both the poor women street vendors who had left off selling corn in favor of chickpeas, all the while wearing French hats, and the Mexican elites who fawned over all things European, especially fashion and culture, and patronized the empolvacas garbanceras (sellers of chickpea powder, used to lighten complexions). The elites were much encouraged in their European aspirations by the dictator José de la Cruz Porfirio Díaz Mori (ruled off and on from 1876-80, then from 1894 to 1911).

At the time, Posada’s Catrina received a bit of attention from the politically inclined, but got a big boost in 1947, when the renowned artist Diego Rivera painted the mural Sueño de una tarde dominical en la Alameda Central (Dream of a Sunday afternoon in Alameda Central Park) on a wall in the muy-muy upscale restaurant in the Hotel Del Prado, one of Mexico City’s Art Deco masterpieces (after the 1985 earthquake, the mural was moved to Museo Mural Diego Rivera, adjacent to the Alameda).

As usual with Rivera’s work, the mural was nothing if not political. About 400 characters from the panorama of Mexican history parade through the Alameda, showing the brutalities of the conquest and colonialism, wars and revolutions, cruel dictatorships. The center of the mural shows La Catrina on the arm of her creator Guadalupe Posada, Frida Kahlo and a young Rivera, Porfirio Díaz (shown higher than an angel), all intended to be observed by elite patrons of the Hotel del Prado’s restaurant. What is notable about Rivera’s Catrina, and is perhaps the root of her popularity thereafter, is that Rivera gave her not fancy European fashion to wear, but a simple white dress from the Isthmus, much like one of Kahlo’s own. He blots out the fancy hat with huge white feathers – featherwork, particularly for headdresses, was a major art form for the Aztecs. These attributes ensured that La Catrina became a heroine to the Mexicans, fit for a starring role in the Day of the Dead.

The researchers who disagree on the origin of Day of the Dead do agree that commercialization, particularly tourism promotions, presents a great threat to the authenticity of Day of the Dead celebrations. However, accounts of New Spain written by Diego Durán (1537-88) and Bernardino Sahagún (1499-1590), Dominican and Franciscan friars, respectively, tell us that markets held in advance of the Day of the Dead in Tenochtitlán were bustling – Duran was “astounded” to see what local people spent to offer food, drink, and other goods to the souls of their dead. By the 1700s, that market had become so frenzied that the government had to step in with regulations for market operations and requirements for vendor permits.

Commercialization of the Day of the Dead has continued apace ever thereafter; by the early 20th century, both Mexican and U.S. anthropologists discovered holiday markets in rural villages, basically commercial regional fairs attracting shopers who traveled long arduous distances to sell their wares or make their purchases. By mid-century, Mexico’s tourism apparatus was promoting Day of the Dead to tourists from the U.S. and Europe, pointing out which regional celebrations offered the most authentic experience for the tourist. Ruth Heller-Tinoco, an associate professor of music at the University of California-Santa Barbara, investigated the commercialization of the Day of the Dead on the island of Janitzio (corn silk) in Lake Patzcuaro, Michoacán. The festival is that of the Purépecha, an indigenous group the Aztecs never managed to subjugate, so their celebration was considered the “purest” example. Heller-Tinoco concluded that “selling” Day of the Dead on Janitzio transformed what was a small community ritual into a tourist spectacle drawing over 100,000 tourists a year. You, too, can go – just Google it.

Of course, all this commercialization has ensured that Day of the Dead has survived, and even transformed, has been handed down to younger generations. In the last “normal,” i.e., pre-pandemic, Day of the Dead in 2019, Secretary of Tourism Miguel Torruco predicted that 829,000 Mexicans would travel, they would spend about $2 billion pesos (±US $104 million), and hotels in Mexico City would see an occupancy rate of nearly 90%. In 2021, when the pandemic showed signs of abating, about US $5 million was spent on marigolds in Mexico City.

Think Coco, the 2017 Pixar Animation Studios film released and promoted by Disney, in which the young Coco, in a “vibrant tale of family, fun, and adventure,” ends up in the Land of the Dead, learning from his departed ancestors the stories behind his family’s prohibitions on music – Coco wants to be a musician. All ends well, and Coco ranks in the top 20 highest grossing animated film ever – streaming today on Disney+.

Huatulco

Editor’s Letter

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By Jane Bauer

“In our society growing food ourselves has become the most radical of acts. It is truly the only effective protest, one that can ― and will ― overturn the corporate powers that be. By the process of directly working in harmony with nature, we do the one thing most essential to change the world ― we change ourselves.” ― Jules Dervaes

I own a restaurant, which means if you look in my fridge at home you will find a lot of good intentions. I spend all day around food and it is often easier to just have a piece of toast at the end of the day or to bring something from work. Recently some potatoes I had forgotten about started sprouting in the fridge, so I planted them. I was so inspired by the quick results that I dug out seeds I have accumulated over the years and bought some pretty planters. There is an amazing satisfaction to eating something you have grown.

The cost of food around the world is soaring! Forget when a few years back when people were complaining about the 8$ cauliflower – that is nothing compared to what is currently happening. The New Yorker recently published a piece about “The True Costs of Inflation in Small-Town Texas,” detailing the impact of inflation on BBQ. This is mainstream media reporting on rising food costs that are causing businesses to close!

In Huatulco it’s not just meat, fish (which is locally caught but there is less of it) – it’s tomatoes, avocados and everything else.

What we are experiencing right now is not the famines of the past which affected people in far off lands that we could forget about when we turned off the TV and sat down to our meat and potatoes dinner. There is no turning off the TV any more – globalization has ensured that we are all connected and we are all going to feel the effects.

The causes for some of this inflation have been higher freight costs, supply chains disrupted by the pandemic and war, increase in the cost of fertilizers and gas. Average monthly natural gas price, as indicated by the World Bank’s Natural Gas Index, went up by nearly 600% between June 2020 and December 2021.

Much of the world is experiencing record-breaking heat waves and water shortages along with soaring food prices, which will impact food production as well.

The stories about people living off the grid, near a water source and growing their own food? They don’t seem eccentric or crazy or counter-culture any more… they seem smart.

See you in October,

Jane

Huatulco

Bananas / Plantains/ Plátanos

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By Julie Etra

Called the banana in America, this lovely and versatile fruit is just one in a group of fruits more commonly known as plantains or plátanos (in Spanish). They are the most widely distributed and consumed fruit in the world and consist of a large number of species, hybrids and cultivars of the Musa genus. Only the grains wheat, rice and corn surpass the production of plantains (bananas) globally. In many parts of the world, the kind of plantains that are cooked are distinguished from the sweet, raw bananas familiar to us in North America.

The origin of this starchy fruit is most likely Malaysia, New Guinea, Indonesia, or the Philippines. The first references appear as early as 600 BCE, but it was noted by Alexander the Great during his travels to India in the 4th century CE. Through trade, like every other valuable commodity, it was dispersed to China, Africa, and well, the rest is history. This original seed-filled fruit barely resembled those consumed today, which has resulted from centuries of plant breeding. The world’s largest producers of bananas in 2017 were India and China, which together accounted for approximately 38% of total production.

One banana, two bananas, and many more

Are you confused by the variety of bananas and banana-like fruits displayed at the Mercado Orgánico de Huatulco (MOH)? Or in the various fruteriás along Calle Carrizal or elsewhere in La Crucecita? A pity most of us are only familiar with the common and ubiquitous Cavendish (Musa acuminata), named after Englishman William Spencer Cavendish, the 6th Duke of Devonshire, who began its cultivation in British greenhouses around 1834. (More about this common banana later.)

As shown in the graphic, there are eight principal banana crops produced in Mexico, including, of course, the Cavendish. As an alternative to that “standard” banana, try the diminutive Dominico bananas, also known as plátano enano, or dwarf plantain, most of which come to Huatulco from neighboring Veracruz. This is the smallest banana available in Mexico. It is a very sweet variety and is widely used in pastry and other confections, including drinks. It is rich in vitamins B, C, and E and has a high magnesium content. It is our favorite banana, and although we can find them when we are going through withdrawal upon our return to the USA, they are very expensive and it seems they never ripen. It usually takes me three plus tries to give up on these expensive imports. When in Huatulco, this banana is our favorite snack.

Later in the Mexican winter the slightly larger Manzanos are available. They are different, of course, with the Dominicos being slightly sweeter and easier to find, even in the super stores like Chedraui and Soriana. Our previous neighbors have a Manzano tree, but I have not been bold enough to approach the present occupants. Manzanos are a bit nuttier and harder in texture than the fast-ripening Dominico.

Problems with popular bananas

The Gros Michel is an example of monoculture disasters. At the beginning of the 20th century, this was the most popular banana in Europe and North America. In 1940, however, a fungal infection arrived in Panama, more precisely Fusarium oxysporum, which attacked the roots of the Gros Michel. Since it produced no viable seeds, only reproducing asexually, it was particularly vulnerable to disease, and hence its demise 20 years after the fungus arrived.

The Cavendish, resistant to the fungus described above, became more popular, with several available varieties including the big dwarf, the small dwarf (redundant, I know), the Lacatan, Valery, Robusta, and Poyo. Recently, another variety of the fungus that infected the Gros Michel has been discovered, and this banana could go the way of its predecessor as it is also asexually cultivated in monocultures (clonal propagation). This type of monoculture cultivation results in plants very vulnerable to plagues and possible extirpation, exactly what happened to the Gros Michel.

Broaden your banana repertoire!

The plátano macho is the largest and heaviest of the bananas and is not sweet. It is cooked in a variety of ways, and can be yellow-, green-, or dark-skinned when very ripe. Machos are consumed in many tropical countries but are virtually unknown in Europe.

The red bananas you see at the MOH and grocery stores, the thick-skinned plátano rojo, is very popular in Latin America, and its availability and use has recently expanded to Europe. It can be consumed raw or cooked.

And yes, there are even more varieties, typically available on a local level, such as the Tabasco (Mexico) and Roatan (one of the Bay islands in Honduras).

Patacones, as they are known in Costa Rica and elsewhere in Latin America, but usually called tostones in Mexico, are small pancakes or pucks made from green Machos, cut in cross section, fried, then flattened and fried a second time. Another fried plantain, cut lengthwise, is a typical accompaniment to Latin American breakfasts – it is a favorite in istmeño cooking (the cuisine of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, Oaxaca). You can enjoy patacones in Huatulco at the restaurant Bladuyu at the entrance to Bahia Chahue. For dessert they can be fried with a liquor, honey and/or cinnamon additionally dribbled/sprinkled on top and accompanied with a scoop of vanilla ice-cream. Yum.

And for a real treat, try molotes de plátano, Macho pulp dough stuffed with quesillo, the lovely Oaxacan cheese (alternatively with black beans), fried, and bathed in condensed milk (or not), frequently offered at Playa San Agustín. The women walk up and down the beach with rectangular plastic containers filled with these tasty, filling units. Don’t pass them up!

Huatulco

Tomatoes: Q & A

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By Randy Jackson

Here’s a question that will brighten anyone’s day: “Hey, do you want a toasted tomato sandwich?” Of course you do, everyone does.

Ah, the tomato. We love them, but take them for granted. For example, when we listen to the lyrics of Guy Clark’s song “Homegrown Tomatoes” –

Only two things that money can’t buy –
That’s true love and homegrown tomatoes –

we think, “Yeah, that’s true.” Nobody would sing about true love and an onion or bok choy. When you take something you love for granted, like the tomato, one day you wake up realizing you know almost nothing about it, and curiosity is aroused.

Questions abound: Where do tomatoes originate? Are tomatoes a fruit or vegetable? How many tomato varieties are there? Are tomatoes the most consumed thing ever? How big can a tomato get? What’s the weirdest shaped tomato ever? And the perennial question: Where could I go for a really good tomato fight?

The tomato is thought to have originated in pre-Inca Peru. Back then it was the size of a garden pea. Over the hundreds of years of pre-conquest Mesoamerican civilizations, a variety of types and sizes of tomatoes were cultivated. The Aztec (Nahuatl) word for the green tomato was tomatl (Spanish, tomate) and this is the word that stuck. Good thing too, because the Nahuatl word for the red tomato was xitomatl, which seems less marketable.

It was the Spanish who spread the tomato around the world. In Europe, documents mention the tomato as early as the 1540’s. For about 200 years, the tomato was seen as an ornamental plant for gardens and fruit-bowl displays, as it was generally considered poisonous in Europe. The first tomato recipe we have on record is 1692. But it took another 100 years before the Italians created the tomato sauce for pasta. The rest, as they say, is history.

Is the tomato a fruit or vegetable? Both really. Botanists classify it as a fruit. Nutritionists consider it a vegetable. This is because it is more savoury than sweet, and is often used in salads, not in desserts like most fruits. In 1893, the US Supreme Court declared the tomato a vegetable for tax purposes. Back then vegetables were subject to import duties, while fruits were not. It seems that the US Supreme Court changes its mind on some things, but has never re-addressed their tomato decision.

My guess was that the tomato would be the most eaten fruit/vegetable in the world. What with salsa, pasta and pizza sauces, ketchup, BLT’s, salads, soups, and on every hamburger ever eaten, what could top that? Well, potatoes. At least by weight and acres cultivated. However, before the potato can gloat over its top spot, we should recognize that most potatoes are used for French fries – and what is most often put on French fries? Exactly. Incidentally, potato chips are the second biggest use of the potato, and in Canada we have ketchup-flavoured potato chips – so there, potato!

There are over 10,000 varieties of tomatoes in the world. Most of these varieties are cross-breeds. About 3,000 varieties are considered “heirloom” tomatoes. Heirloom tomatoes are a sort of “purebred” tomato, traceable to a single genetic plant line. When it comes to the most popular tomato, beefsteak tomatoes seems to top most lists followed by the Cherokee Purple (heirloom tomato), and then Roma (paste) and cherry varieties.

The Guiness World Book of Record has the largest tomato weighing in at 4.9 kilograms (10 pounds 12 oz), with a circumference of 84 centimetres (33 inches). It was grown by Dan Sutherland in Walla Walla, Washington, in 2020. This tomato was the variety Domingo, which is a type of beefsteak tomato. And speaking of records, 121 is the largest number of tomatoes grown on a single vine. Possibly more interesting are the photos of weirdly shaped tomatoes that can be found on the internet. Often tomatoes grow pointed appendages out of their mostly symmetrical shapes. As a result, noses, pointy ears and penises are easily imagined. One tomato found in a British garden looked like the head of Adolf Hitler.

This off-beat aspect of tomatoes is topped by a festival in the town of Buñol, Spain, which holds an annual festival called La Tomatina. Forty to fifty thousand people crowd into this Spanish town for the world’s largest food fight. The only food thrown is tomatoes. You need a ticket to participate in La Tomatina, and only 22,000 tickets will be sold for the 2022 event (a ticket is 12 Euros or 250 Mexican pesos). The event will be held on August 31, 2022. About 100 tonnes of over-ripe tomatoes are provided for throwing at other participants in the town square. There are a few rules – most important is to squish the tomato before you throw it. Two words come to mind: stupidity and messy. As for being messy, the city is well prepared for the cleanup with street washers and fire-hoses all pre-stationed and ready to go after the event. Because tomatoes are acidic, the streets, buildings, statutes, and benches all gleam in spectacular cleanliness after the cleanup.

No longer will I take the tomato for granted. Already I am on the hunt for a Cherokee Purple. Of course, there are Brandywine Pink, Black Krim, Green Zebra, Gold Medal, Big Rainbow, Lemon Boy, Mr. Stripey, White Beauty … No luck yet, but I picked up some Yellow Pear tomatoes yesterday and tried them in a toasted tomato sandwich (lovely).

Huatulco

Spanish Lesson

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Verbs beginning with A

abandonar – to abandon, leave behind
abordar – to board, get on [plane, bus, etc.]
abrazar – to hug, embrace
aburrir – to bore; to tire, weary
abusar – to go too far, take advantage
acabar – to finish, end
aceptar – to accept, approve; to agree to
acercarse – to approach
adorar – to adore, worship
advertir – to notice, observe, advise, warn
afeitar – to shave
afirmar – to make firm, steady, to affirm
agradecer – to be thankful for
aguantar – to put up with, endure, bear, stand
abrir – to open
acercar – move towards
ahorrar – to save
alcanzar – to reach, catch, catch up to
almorzar – to lunch, eat lunch, have lunch
alquilar – to rent; to rent out
amar – to love
amenazar – to threaten, menace
andar – to walk, go
anunciar – to announce
apagar – to extinguish, put out, turn off
aplaudir – to applaud, cheer, clap
aplicar – to apply
apostar – to bet, wager
apoyar – to support, hold up, prop up; to back
apreciar – to appreciate, value, esteem, estimate, notice
aprender – to learn
arreglar – to arrange, settle, fix up, repair, tidy up
arrepentirse – to repent, be repentant, regret

Huatulco

Six-Legged Saviors

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By Kary Vannice

I’ve seen visitors to Mexico visibly gag or turn away in disgust when offered a bowl of chapulines (fried grasshoppers) along with their guacamole. I’ve witnessed a few more daring travelers hesitantly touch their tongue to a margarita glass rimmed with sal de gusano (salt containing ground-up agave worm larva). But I’ve rarely seen a foreigner “chow down” on insects undeterred by their preconceived notions about eating bugs.

Most of us are disgusted by just the thought of bugs crawling around in the cabinet where we store our food and are horrified to see mealworm larva float to the top of our cereal bowl.

Eating two or four-legged creatures is fine, but add an additional pair of legs, and most westerners are “out.” “No, thank you, I’ll pass!”

But could it be that our social and cultural conditioning is preventing us from taking advantage of one of the planet’s most nutritious, eco-friendly, and sustainable sources of protein – insects?

For centuries, 80% of all the world’s cultures have been incorporating insects into their diets. Countries like the United States and Canada make up part of the 20% that are staunch holdouts to embracing the edible insect.

Over a hundred edible insect species are eaten in Mexico and there are almost 2,000 species of edible insect that humans around the world consume. Nearly two billion people eat insects as a regular part of their everyday diet. And for good reason.

Most edible insects are high in protein, low in saturated fat, and high in fiber. They contain various essential vitamins and minerals, including vitamin B12, vitamin D, phosphorous, iron, calcium, zinc, copper, magnesium, and manganese. And many are a one-stop-shop for all nine essential amino acids, and also contain omega-3 and omega-6 fatty acids, as well as antioxidants. According to http://www.Hey-Planet.com, “Insects contain almost all the nutritional benefits that you get from eating meat, fish, and rye bread – all at once!”

And if the nutritional benefits alone don’t convince you to start incorporating insects into your diet, perhaps the environmental ones will. The Food and Agricultural Association (FAO) of the United Nations points out that “Crickets need six times less feed than cattle, four times less than sheep, and twice less than pigs and broiler chickens to produce the same amount of protein … and they emit less greenhouse gases and ammonia than conventional livestock.”

In our post-pandemic world, we are facing new food-system concerns like supply-chain disruptions, food scarcity, and the rising cost of food, particularly meat. This, along with the ongoing climate crisis, has led many to suggest insect farming as a viable, environmentally friendly, and lucrative solution to all of the above problems.

Last year, the BBC featured insect farming in an online series focused on the future of food. The article stated that insect cultivation uses only a fraction of the land mass, energy, and water of traditional animal farming and has a significantly lower carbon footprint.

One reason for this is that insects can be farmed vertically, meaning that large high-rise warehouses can be used to grow tons of insects on a very small parcel of land. And farmed insects can be fed on what would otherwise be considered “waste” in other food industries, such as spent grain from breweries, food scraps, and other organic waste, which solves yet another problem.

Because insect farming does not require vast tracts of land, it can be done in and around large urban centers, so there’s no need to ship this protein-rich food source to where the majority of people live. This virtually eliminates the supply chain altogether.

Before making it to the consumer, most insect protein is ground into a fine powder, making it much more palatable and easier to incorporate into a mainstream diet. Imagine eating a delicious batch of coconut cookies that just happens to contain cricket powder or enjoying a protein-packed brownie made from silkworm larva flour. You’d probably never even know you were eating an insect, yet imagine the good you’d be doing your body and the planet.

If you live in Mexico and want to give insect protein powder a try, the Mexican-based company One Chance offers delicious protein shake powders that are all available from Amazon Mexico. I recommend the matcha!