Tag Archives: brooke o'connor

Tortillas, Women and Circles

By Brooke O’Connor

It’s impossible to think about Mexican food without immediately thinking about tortillas, whether made with flour or variously colored corn. A legend says tortillas were invented by a humble peasant to feed a hungry king. We have records of corn tortillas being made as far back as 10,000 BCE. Why have they been a staple of the Americas and how have women making tortillas become such an important part of society?

First, let’s look at the making of tortillas. Traditionally, dried corn is cooked in lime water. Not limes from trees, but an alkaline bath made with wood ash and/or white lime powder from the earth. This process creates a chemical reaction releasing the bioavailability of B vitamins, particularly vitamin B3, which is not widely present in traditional vegetable-based diets. Boiling in this water also increases the mineral uptake such as calcium, iron, copper, and zinc by hundreds of percentage points. After the corn is boiled for at least 90 minutes, the skins can be slipped off and the corn can be ground into masa and used for tortillas, or other bases for foods like tamales or sopes.

This process is called nixtamalization, coming from the Aztec language Nahuatal word nextli “lime ashes” and tamalli “unformed/cooked corn dough.”

We don’t know how the process was discovered, but we think it goes something like this. People in the Americas didn’t have metal cooking vessels in 10,000 BCE, and the traditional pottery was not strong enough to cook directly on hot coals or fire. The earthenware pots were elevated above the fire, then hot stones were put into the pot (with the food) to increase the temperature and cook food thoroughly. Limestone is an easily attained and abundant resource in the Americas, so it the heated rocks were generally pieces of limestone. The lime leaching into the water created the nixtamalization, but a side effect was better flavor and aroma in the cornmeal (masa). Soon it became clear that cooking with limestone versus other stones created a superior product, so this became the standard. Most likely the stones were heated in the wood ash underneath the pot, and some ash was likely to enter the food as well. Savvy cooks experimented with various amounts of ash and stone until they achieved the desired flavor.

Once the corn was made into masa, small round balls were flattened by hand, and laid over a large concave piece of pottery called a comal. The comal was treated with a thick layer of limestone dissolved in water, creating a non-stick coating. This would leave a light additional dusting of calcium on every tortilla, making it even more nutritious. Periodically the limestone would be washed onto the comal again, and tortillas naturally slid off the cooking surface, using only fingers. Much safer and longer lasting than the non-stick pans we have today, despite all the advantages of modern chemistry and manufacturing.

Because cooking was traditionally a woman’s chore, tortilla-making was an essential women’s role in Mexican society, but not given much importance. It was just another job in the kitchen. It evolved into micro-businesses for women who developed a particular flair for their nixtamalization process. The skilled tortilla maker began selling to other women, freeing them up to concentrate on other things.

As the industrial revolution hit Mexico, the “wage gap” between women and men became more of a “wage chasm.” However, because tortilla making was not mechanized, it remained an industry owned and run by women. It was an essential strategy used by women of the era to maintain some form of autonomy and financial significance.

Centuries later, we have tried to industrialize nixtamalization, with terrible impact on the environment, the nutritional quality of masa, and excess use of energy resources – not to mention the lack of complex aromas and depth of flavors.

In modern days, the role of women in Mexico has changed. Women who make tortillas to sell, for the most part, are using industrially produced corn meal. The concept of societal roles, and the loss of recognition of traditional flavors, have morphed the tortilla industry into an interesting reflection of society at large. Tortilla making is considered a lower-status job for women. In fact, anthropologist Lauren A. Wynne details how modern Yucatecan Maya women have no intention of making tortillas at home because they consider it lower-class activity, and the qualities of good-tasting tortilla have changed (“I Hate It”: Tortilla-Making, Class and Women’s Tastes in Rural Yucatán, Mexico,” Food, Culture & Society {18:3, 2015}.

An interesting side note to corn and its history, is what happened when the Spaniards came to Mexico. They were enchanted with this new grain. They’d never seen corn before and described it with delight in their letters back home; they created the name tortilla (little cake). They called it this because in southern Spain, where there was a significant Arabic influence, they made small round disks from chickpea flour, and it seemed similar. The Spanish then imported wheat and the flour tortilla was born.

After Europeans began cultivating corn, it became a popular food but led to a pandemic in poorer parts of society because, without nixtamalization, it lacked niacin; the deficiency brought on a disease called pellagra. Symptoms include inflamed skin, diarrhea, dementia, and sores in the mouth. Over time, the skin became thicker, peeled, and bled. If not treated, it was fatal. The same thing happened when Europeans settled in the southern part of the United States. Settlers relied on easily grown corn crops to survive, but neglected to learn the indigenous way of preparation. One could argue Nature herself served up a little social justice.

As most things go, history repeats itself. The traditional ways of cooking are becoming more interesting again, as our food resources become more expensive and less nutritious. There are several cooking schools in Huatulco that offer classes in traditional and modern Mexican cuisine.

There are also still women who make tortillas by hand, with corn they grew and processed themselves. If you are fortunate enough to have organic, indigenous corn, nixtamalized over a fire, and cooked over a traditional comal, you will notice the difference immediately.

Like history, women have always been circular. We have cyclical bodily rhythms, pregnant bellies, round with ripe life. It’s through the family circle we serve our immediate loved ones. We support each other, disguised as crafting circles. It only seems fitting, women will bring this art of circle-shaped tortilla-making back into the mainstream. There is something wholesome and delicious in the process. There’s a connection with the earth, history, and the elements when we connect with indigenous ways of cooking. If you have a chance to make even one tortilla with your own hands, take it. It’s a science and an art, and hopefully, together we can revive the womanly art of circles and tortillas.

Eye on the Writers of The Eye: Brooke O’Connor

By Marcia Chaiken and Jan Chaiken

Brooke O’Connor began writing for The Eye in October 2022, and is the most recent member of the Eye staff. She stands out among the already-international Eye team as having lived in the most countries – Mexico is just her latest.

Brooke was born in Los Angeles County and was adopted when she was 4 months old. She was raised in Diamond Bar, California, near Anaheim, until she was a three-year-old. Her family moved to Salt Lake City and Brooke was educated there through high school. She spent a gap year working as a nanny in Syracuse, NY and Mountain Lakes, NJ, before matriculating in a special pre-med program at the University of Kansas, graduating with a BS degree. She decided to spend the summer before med school working in Alaska. There she met her soon-to-be husband, and her plans for further medical study were set aside in favor of marriage. Brooke and her husband lived in Squim, Washington, where they would later start their family with first child – a daughter. After several months of being a stay-at-home mother, Brooke discovered she had a talent for multi-level marketing, and marketing became her long-term career.

The young couple moved to Dublin, Ireland, when her husband’s employment required. Brooke realized that many grocery shops in Dublin were small family enterprises providing both housing and income, so she bought and ran such a shop for three years. In addition, she began coaching others in life choices and business decisions, the beginning of another long-term occupation. Her son was born during that period.

Once again following the employment of her husband, who had family ties in Italy, the family moved to a small town outside Milan. They lived in a rented wing of a castle and although the quarters were freezing during the winters, they lived there for three years until they bought a house in the area. When Brooke was divorced in 2012, she became a consultant for a Los Angeles-based company specializing in interior design and an architectural firm with clients in the Middle East. She spent nine months as their agent in Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Bahrain, promoting their projects.

Later she realized that she wanted her teen daughter to have opportunities that were available in the U.S. but not in Italy, so they moved to Alexandria, VA. Brooke bought and ran a limousine service there for three years. Then, to live closer to her brother, she moved to Denver where she was trained and practiced as a clinical hypnotherapist, specializing in working with people who had experienced trauma. It was in Denver that she met her current partner, Scott, and within a few weeks they decided to be a couple for life. They moved to Salt Lake City when Brooke’s mother needed assistance through an illness.

After her mother died, Brooke discussed quality-of-life challenges with Scott and began to explore places in the world where they could enjoy growing old together. After considering several places that appeared to support a lifestyle they hoped for, Huatulco rose to the top of the list … but they had never been here. After a one-month visit checking out the town, they returned to Salt Lake City, sold everything, and returned to Huatulco to a condo they bought in La Crucecita.

Today, Brooke and Scott are partners in a relatively new business called Better You Marketing. Brooke spends her free time snorkeling in our beautiful bays, writing for The Eye, and working on her memoir. She has always enjoyed baking and, like many of us, is finding baking in our environment a challenge. The culinary skill for which she’s best known is her creative breakfast skillets using leftover ingredients.

Brooke arrived shortly after our long-time Eye writer Brooke Gazer moved to Mérida in the Yucatán. We miss Brooke Gazer but are happy to have a new Brooke join us.

Now and Then: The Modern vs the Zapotec Concepts of Time

By Brooke O’Connor

When I started researching the concept of time in the Zapotec culture versus the idea of time today, there were many changes happening in the world – one of which is the first public availability of AI, or artificial intelligence. New technologies will change the fabric of how we live our lives, as well as our perception of time.

We’ve probably all experienced an AI “chatbot” – the online conversations that you have when you want to “talk” some kind of customer service. Lately, these text-generating chatbots have moved on to writing entire essays. So … just for fun, I typed my topic into ChatGPT, an advanced chatbot released in November 2022 by Open AI, a nonprofit artificial intelligence research laboratory. This is what came out.

The Zapotec culture, indigenous to the southern state of Oaxaca in Mexico, has a unique and complex understanding of time. The Zapotecs have long held a cyclical view of time, in which the past, present, and future are interwoven and constantly influencing one another. This view is deeply ingrained in their daily lives, religious practices, and social structure.

One aspect of the Zapotec perception of time is the belief in the power of ancestors. For the Zapotecs, the spirits of their ancestors continue to play an active role in the present and are often called upon for guidance and protection. This belief is reflected in the Zapotec calendar, which is based on a 260-day cycle, in which the days are named after various deities, natural phenomena, and ancestors. Each day has its own unique characteristics and significance and is believed to be influenced by the spirits of the ancestors associated with it.

The Zapotecs also have a strong connection to the land and their environment. This connection is reflected in their agricultural practices, which are closely tied to the cycles of the sun, moon, and stars. The Zapotecs use these astronomical cycles to determine the best time for planting and harvesting crops. For example, the Zapotecs believe that certain days are better for planting certain crops, depending on the phase of the moon.

Another important aspect of the Zapotec perception of time is the concept of “tequio.” Tequio is the Zapotec word for community work or service, which is an integral part of Zapotec culture. Tequio is typically done on a voluntary basis and is done for the benefit of the community as a whole. It can take many forms, such as building a community house, repairing roads, or planting crops. The Zapotecs believe that tequio is necessary to maintain balance and harmony in the community and that it helps keep the ancestors’ spirits happy.

Religion also plays a big role in the Zapotec perception of time. In Zapotec culture, gods and goddesses are believed to have a significant impact on the perception of time. They are seen as the creators and guardians of time and are responsible for the cycles of the seasons and the passage of days and nights. These deities are also associated with the passage of time in the human life cycle, such as birth, adulthood, and death. For example, the god Xipe Tótec is associated with the planting and growth of crops, and rituals are performed in his honor at the beginning of the agricultural cycle to ensure a bountiful harvest. Similarly, the goddess Cocijo is associated with the rainy season, and rituals are performed to ensure that the rains come at the appropriate time for the crops.

Additionally, the gods and goddesses are also associated with different stages in the human life cycle, such as birth, adulthood, and death. For example, the god of childbirth, Pitao Cozobi, is invoked to ensure a safe delivery, and the goddess of death, Xoxo, is honored to ensure a peaceful transition to the afterlife.

One of the most important ceremonies is the Guelawe, a celebration of the dead that takes place annually, usually in November. During this ceremony, the Zapotecs believe that the spirits of the dead return to the living world to visit their descendants. The Zapotecs believe that the spirits of the dead have the power to influence the lives of the living and that it is important to keep them happy through rituals and offerings.

However, it’s worth mentioning that Zapotec culture is diverse and there are variations between different regions and even towns. There are many different practices, beliefs, and expressions of their culture. Also, the Zapotec culture has been in constant change over the centuries and is still adapting to the present day, thus, this article presents a general view of the Zapotec culture’s perception of time.

In modern times, the perception of time has been largely shaped by advances in science and technology. The invention of the clock in the 14th century revolutionized the way time was measured and perceived. The development of mechanical clocks, and later quartz and atomic clocks, made it possible to measure time with an unprecedented level of accuracy. The widespread use of clocks and watches has also led to the standardization of time across the world, with time zones being established to account for variations in longitude.

In physics, time is not an absolute but relative to the observer, and in theories such as special and general relativity show that the perception of time can change depending on the observer’s velocity and gravitational field.

In modern Western cultures, time is often perceived as a scarce and valuable resource. People are constantly racing against the clock, trying to fit more activities into each day. This has led to the development of time management techniques and tools to help people make the most of their time.

In conclusion, the perception of time has evolved throughout history and across cultures. The Zapotec culture had a complex understanding of time that was closely linked to their religious beliefs, while in modern Western cultures time is often perceived as a scarce and valuable resource. Advances in science and technology have played a significant role in shaping our current understanding and perception of time.

Note: I had to fix some grammatical errors, but then, when I asked how I should tell people this article was written, it responded, “This article was crafted by the deft hand of artificial intelligence.”

One thing is clear in our modern age; time stands still for no one, and if we don’t progress along with the technology we will be left behind.

Why There’s a Rabbit on the Moon

By Brooke O’Connor

My father told me the moon was made of cheese when I was a child.

“See all the holes?” he asked, and I believed him.

Why was the moon made of cheese? He couldn’t answer that, but I wondered if the moon tasted anything like my ham and cheese sandwich on a warm day.

Later, I was told there was a man’s face on the moon. He looked down on the children of the world to see if they were behaving properly and reported to the parents if any mischief was at hand. It was a bit creepy, but my best friend assured me it was only a way for parents to instill fear in us.

The Agricultural Moon

Ancient cultures studied the moon and its cycles, and people were more in tune with those cycles than we are today. Planting under a certain moon cycle could grow stronger crops. Harvesting under a certain moon cycle would yield better-tasting produce.

These practices are being revived. I worked with an organic chamomile farm that harvested on the night of a full moon. Laboratory tests showed the highest level of azulenes (a blue chemical used as an anti-inflammatory and emollient) were available from 11 pm to 1 am on full moons. Their chamomile essential oils were so potent, they were only used for medical purposes. One drop would stain your hand for a few days.

Here in Mexico, the traditional milpa method of gardening – small, intercropped plots typically growing corn, climbing beans, and vining squash –is still in use today and uses the moon cycles to maximize production.

As any gardener knows, one of the essential parts of gardening is factoring in the fauna, and rabbits are omnipresent in that ecosystem. In fact, rabbits have been a food source for humans and other animals for many millennia.

The Moon of Mexican Legends

So how did the Aztecs decide there was a rabbit on the moon?

Let me tell you …

As many good stories start, this one started long ago and began with a god. Quetzalcóatl is related to the gods of the wind, of the dawn, of merchants, of arts, crafts, and knowledge. He was also the patron god of the Aztec priesthood, and of learning and knowledge. Quetzalcoatl was one of several important gods in the Aztec pantheon and is known as the Precious Serpent or Feathered Serpent.

One day, shortly after Mexico was created, Quetzalcóatl was curious to see this beautiful land and transformed himself into human form to walk around and explore. He was amazed at the exquisite variety of trees, flowers, and terrain he found. He walked far and wide. The sun was hot, the day was long, and he became tired. As the moon rose, and the stars started to twinkle, he realized he was hungry and started searching for food.

As Quetzalcóatl looked for food, he tripped over a rabbit.

“Who are you and what are you eating? I am hungry and looking for food.” The god said.

“I’m just a little rabbit, and I eat grass. I will gladly pick grass for you to eat because I see you are a great god,” the rabbit said.

“I will die of starvation if I eat grass. There must be something else.” Quetzalcóatl said.

The rabbit replied, “Very well, I will offer myself to you as a sacrifice. Eat me and you will have the energy to continue your journey.” =

“You are very brave for such a small creature!” Quetzalcóatl said.

“I am here to serve you.” The rabbit said.

Quetzalcóatl was touched by the courage and dedication of the rabbit. He picked him up and caressed the soft fur. Then, instead of eating him, he held the rabbit up to the moon and imprinted the rabbit’s silhouette. The rabbit would forever be known for his good heart and sacrificial attitude.

This is why the Aztecs say there is a rabbit on the moon.

It’s interesting to note that the Chinese and Japanese also have myths about the rabbit on the moon. The Japanese story talks about a god disguised as an old man who wanders in the forest for food. A monkey offers some stolen fish and a fox offers some nuts, but the rabbit has nothing to offer but grass. The rabbit then offers himself to the old man, and the god reveals himself, then gives the rabbit eternal life on the moon.

I always scratch my head when myths of different cultures collide, particularly when they are so specific but geographically distant. What does it mean? Could there really be a rabbit on the moon?

I doubt it, but there’s definitely a connection in human history yet to be discovered.

Things I Wish I’d Known about the Climate
before Moving to HUX

By Brooke O’Connor

If you come from a country north of the border, here are some things you may not know about Huatulco’s climate; here’s my experience of how I learned to adjust.

The Sun

Full sun in Huatulco means a UV index of 11+ most of the year. Check out this chart to see what that means for your skin type – the chart shows the time it will take before your skin starts to burn.

I did not believe I could burn within 10-15 minutes. I was wrong. We are close to the equator and closer to the sun.

My must-haves:
● Long-sleeved rash guard from 12 pm-4 pm if on the beach
● Wide-brimmed hats
● Good sunglasses with a UV rating
● Reef-safe sunscreen (more on that later)
● Homemade after-sun treatment – aloe gel mixed with generous amounts of lavender essential oil. This is magic and will take out the red overnight if applied liberally after a shower.
● Shop in the morning, stay indoors until late afternoon

Dehydration

All that sun and the abundant humidity make it hot. Heat stroke is a real issue. Cervesas and margaritas are delicious on a hot day, but dehydrating alcohol needs to be balanced out with water.

Fortunately, the needed water comes in many forms. Suero drinks (electrolyte drinks), agua de sabor or aguas frescas (fruit-flavored waters), and good old agua natural from the bottle. Drink some of each daily.

Fortunately, the needed water comes in many forms. Suero drinks (electrolyte drinks), agua de sabor or aguas frescas (fruit-flavored waters), and good old agua natural from the bottle. Drink some of each daily.

I’ve heard of several people going to the hospital for IV fluids because dehydration sneaks up like a pouncing jaguar. The minute I feel a headache, or dizziness, I know I’ve got to kick into gear and guzzle some form of agua.

My must-haves:
● Salt liberally with good natural sea salt, not table salt (which contains only sodium). Sweat drains the body of essential minerals that keep things going – like your heart!
● Drink a good amount of water in the morning, then keep track during the day. Drink half your weight in ounces or half your weight x 30ml per day.
● After every alcoholic drink, have some water.
● Eat more fruit! It contains mostly water and a lot of vitamins and minerals. The ladies selling sliced fruit on the beach are wonderful.

Sweating

Almost everybody sweats, some of us more than others. The crossroads of humidity, heat, and menopause have drastically increased my output. This created the perfect storm for rashes and constantly wet clothing.

My must-haves:
● Only natural fiber clothing – linen, cotton, and silk.
● Lowered my sense of modesty. No one here cares if you have fat arms or cellulite. Be cool.
● A quick rinse-off shower during the day.
● Body powder. I have an assortment, from lovely smells to medicated, depending on the body part and the need. Use liberally.
● Forget makeup. It melts off. Hurray for tattoo brows and eyeliner. Embrace the lip gloss.

Cleaning

Humidity brings mold. It’s that simple. No more waiting to do laundry. No more balling up towels on the floor. Wear it, wash it, dry it well, and store it in an area with ventilation.

The key is never letting the mold take hold. Mold is hard to kill, and many items have to be thrown away after the smell and black spots appear, like my favorite straw hat.

Bugs like dark places where there isn’t a lot of movement. I used to clean my closet every year in the states. Now it’s a weekly job. Under sofas, beds and chairs can quickly become spider hangouts. But there are ways to keep critters at bay.

Things I do now:
● Empty the beach bag immediately. It either needs to be washed or hung out to dry. Nothing waits till tomorrow.
● Never start a load of laundry unless I’m committed to seeing it through to the end of that day.
● I don’t like chemicals, so I use diatomaceous earth powder in the dark corners, and occasionally around window sills. It dehydrates most bug bodies while keeping a nontoxic home for myself.
● We embrace and encourage the house geckos. They don’t seem to harm anything, and they go into dark places to hunt. Diatomaceous earth only harms invertebrates, so I know I’m not poisoning them.
● We have a bat. I only know this because it leaves poops on the windowsill. Although not my favorite animal, it keeps the mosquitoes away, and it hasn’t tried to suck my blood on the full moon, so I think we’re safe.
● Keep as many items as possible in bins, baskets, and containers so it’s easy to pull out and put them back.
● Silicone packets. I used to throw them away as soon as I opened a package. Now I deliberately put them in everything I can. They can be reused by drying them in the oven. Check out this how-to info: http://www.wikihow.com/Reuse-Silica-Gel

Food

Fruits and vegetables grow like crazy here. They also wither and die quickly. They haven’t been sprayed with chemicals or bathed in bleach, so the natural bacteria do their job.

On top of that, fresh produce needs to be washed and disinfected because the soil here is healthy, and has organisms we don’t find in the north. It can cause some tummy upset if your gut biome isn’t used to it. I know some people use a few drops of bleach in the water, but I use a colloidal silver preparation called Quality Day – you can buy at the supermarket in the veggie section.

Things I do now:

● Shop several times a week and keep food rotated.
● I opted for special fridge containers to preserve fresh fruit and veggies.
● Cook large batches in the morning (cooler time to cook), and freeze individual portions.
● Immediately put baked goods into sealed containers and in the fridge.
● Dry my fresh cheese (if it’s wet), and put it in the fridge without a cover. After one day it goes in a sealed container.
● Use thermal bags to do shopping.
● Take antiparasitic medicine every 6 months.
● Make sure the refrigerator is working at the right temperature.

Rainy Season vs Dry Season

When I moved to Huatulco, I imagined the rainy season meant monsoons and months of flooding. What it really means is the possibility of rain. Many times, there are evening showers or overnight pours. Very few days are rainy all day.

Hurricanes don’t usually hit Huatulco. This part of the Pacific is the birthing place of many storms, and because of our unique position, we will only get the tails of it for a day or two.

The dry season is exactly that. Dry. No rain for about six months. So when the rains come, we rejoice. The trees come alive again, the fruits start to grow, and the animals are relieved from the relenting heat.

Coral and Sea Life

Whether you believe in climate change or not, one thing for sure is the temperature of the waters has gone up. This causes the coral reefs to become covered in algae, which chokes them from getting sunlight, and they eventually die. When the coral dies, the fish population dies.

A few things we learned:
● Do NOT touch the coral reefs. Not only can you get cut, but you can damage the reef.
● Treat yourself to good, reef-friendly sunscreen. Unfortunately, they don’t sell it everywhere. When I find it, I stock up.
● Do not take the seashells or pieces of coral home. There’s a hefty fine if they find sand, shells, or coral in suitcases at the airport. Removing these essential parts of the ecosystem is eroding the beaches and damaging sea life.
● Don’t touch the animals in or out of the water. They aren’t pets and can be damaged.

Summary

Overall, we’ve found Huatulco to be one of the healthiest and most beautiful places to live on the planet. With a little preparation, all things are possible in paradise!

Zapotec Writers:
Not as Boring as History Class Led You to Believe

By Brooke O’Connor

An issue about Mexican writers would be remiss if we didn’t include some original writers in Mexico: the Zapotecs. Although Spanish is the legal and most widely spoken language, Zapotec is still one of the largest indigenous language groups spoken, comprising 58 different variations among different communities.

Many dialects and traditions are being lost to modernity, but there are some champions of Zapotec, publishing bilingual and trilingual books. More on that later.

The earliest preserved Zapotec writing is from 600 BCE, and we know this Mesoamerican script was used for well over 1,500 years. Just as they do today, Zapotec peoples had many uses for writing in the ancient thriving society. However, time has left us more monolithic billboards than personal journals.

The earliest known inscription comes from San José Mogote, northwest of present day Oaxaca City; San José Mogote reached its political peak before the establishment of Monte Albán, southwest of and closer to Oaxaca City (more writings have been preserved from Monte Albán than from San José Mogote). Many of the large engravings from San José Mogote detailed competitions and the development of urban life. They chronicled the succession of leaders and winning of battles. This led archeologists to believe that writing during this time was used mostly for political and civic education. They’ve since found those conclusions to be false.

The earlier (600 BCE to 200 ACE) writings in San José Mogote appear to be related to sacred topics; self-sacrifice, the proper oral invocation of ancestors to ensure success in warfare, the taking of captives, ritual combat with captives, and how-to manuals on burning humans alive to petition for agricultural and human fertility. Political topics included strategies and plans written by members of the elite class, designed to create division in society with the aim of developing more power as leaders.

In addition, these elites promoted an elaborate ideology that centered on a primordial covenant between humans and the divine; the ideology depended, of course, on the populace following the elites. The authors masked the inequalities between the classes, and used these ideas to create messianic movements, binding the people to one political party or another. There are other writings showing resistance to these movements, and how the elite plans didn’t always unfold as expected.

People wrote on many media – wood, pottery, leather, cloth and paper bark. These items were more portable for trade, as well as written communication between elites in all areas of ancient Oaxaca. Unfortunately, the soft nature of these media makes them highly perishable. With the ravages of time, most are lost to us.

A few items survived, or were documented when the Spaniards came. Translation can be tricky, and sociologists are taking a second look at Spanish accounts of ancient writings. It seems there may have been some creative liberties taken, to promote the narrative that “Savages need to be tamed.” The friars sent information back to Spain, and the more exotic and titillating the better.

The characters of early written Zapotec were not like the written language seen today. Many symbols represented an idea, rather than denoting the phonic sound of a letter, group of letters, or a syllable. Numbers were portrayed with lines and bars.

When the first Spaniards came, the indigenous wanted to communicate freely (arguably more than the Spaniards did), so as early as the late 16th century, Zapotec peoples appropriated the Spanish alphabet to render their own language graphically. They wrote stealthily about their traditions though. They hoped to come to an amicable agreement for the Spaniards to leave, in peace, after learning a bit about the culture. By subverting the colonial gaze, they were able to keep intact some of the important cultural identity and family issues, and still talk about exploitive political practices. Lucky for us, the Zapotecs have continued to use the alphabetic script today, and we can begin to understand more of this rich culture.

Zapotec language is full of imagery and deep meanings. It is formal and respectful, particularly to elders and people not in your immediate family. It’s a language that commands a level of humility on the part of the speaker. The natural world is invoked regularly. There is a sense of connection to the earth, the ancestors and human kind.

If you want to experience this magical, dream-like writing I highly recommend Red Ants by Pergentino José, who was born in 1981 in the Zapotec village of Buena Vista in the municipality of San Agustín Loxicha, in the mountains a couple of hours north of Zipolite. He writes both poetry and prose in Loxichan Zapotec, which he has described as “the Zapotec of the coast,” and Spanish. In 2006, he wrote the bilingual Spanish/Zapotec Y supe qué responder /Nyak mbkaabna (I Knew What To Answer); in 2013, he published a tri-lingual (Zapotec/Spanish/English) collection of poems, Ndio dis mbind /Lenguaje de pájaros /The Language of Birds. The volume is beautifully illustrated with paintings by Raga Garcíarteaga. It is difficult to find as a book, but you can download it from the publisher: http://www.avispero.com.mx/storage/app/media/libros/lenguaje-de-pajaros.pdf.

Red Ants was first published in 2012 in Spanish as Hormigas Rojas, but included expressions in Loxichan Zapotec; it was translated to English in 2020 by Thomas Bunstead, who chose to keep the Zapotec passages. Red Ants is the first ever translation of a Zapotec author. It’s a collection of short stories that are neither linear nor logical, but rather surreal, with an intoxicating perfume of culture and connection to the land. Each story builds on the last, from a different angle and perspective. There are underlying themes in these modern stories that speak to the Zapotec people’s experience through history: forced change, imprisonment, longing for a simpler time, loss of autonomy, grit to overcome even when bruised and broken, but never losing connection with the natural world.

I invite you to take time reading this. Think about the complexities of translating one language to another. Translation is always less about the actual words, and more about meaning in a sentence. Hence, translated into stoic English, we have a mystical sensation, with animals and imagery expanding in ways we may not immediately grasp. Sit with it, and let the ancestors of this land breathe understanding into you.

If you’re interested in hearing what Zapotec sounds like, and see some of the work being done to preserve and understand these languages, check out this site from the Zapotec Language Project of the University of California at Santa Cruz: https://zapotec.ucsc.edu/. The University offers an online dictionary, monthly language classes, and audio samples of native speakers. For example, this “scary story” spoken by Samuel Díaz Ramirez: https://zapotec.ucsc.edu/slz/texts-query.php?lg=&content=&query=match&text=SLZ1089-t1&parse=no

Myths and Legends of Mexico:The Little People

By Brooke O’Connor

Around the world, we find stories of “Little People” known as fairies, gnomes, goblins, sprites and a myriad of other names. They are usually associated with spiritual or supernatural powers. Some are considered helpers for nature and humans, while others may be maleficent.

Mexico’s Duende

Mexico has its own brand of creatures from pre-Hispanic culture, called duende in Spanish. Each region has a different species, with particular personalities and names. It’s interesting to note that in Spanish, if someone has charisma and charm, they are said to have “duende.”

Most creatures are described as small like a child, but with an old man’s face. Some can disappear at will, and some will camouflage into a full-sized (but short) old man. It is said, if an old man asks you for food, or a little money, it could be a duende. If you don’t pay the ask, there will be chaos. Maybe your crops won’t grow, or your car will break down. Mostly they’re causing mischief, but there can be danger. The duende seem to be attached to certain natural areas, but can be coaxed to leave with proper gifts and respect.

The most well-known of these legendary Mexican creatures are the alux (plural aluxob) from the Yucatán. The Aztecs called a similar but younger creature chanekeh (chaneque) or ohuican chaneque, which means “those who inhabit dangerous places” or the “owners of the house.” In Oaxaca, the Zapotecs call them huíchaa; they are nocturnal creatures and can be shapeshifters, taking the form of a jaguar, bat, snake, etc.

The similarities of these creatures with those represented in other stories from around the world is astounding. Almost enough to make you believe they may be real. In fact, I believe they may have been playing with me as I researched for this article.

A Witness from the Yucatán

My first exploration into this topic was over a long brunch, with a table of people from six countries. Each person shared their childhood stories, cultural perspective, and indigenous names for the creatures. Our friend from the Yucatán was most animated as he recounted what happened to him. He’s almost a grandfather now, but he doesn’t just have faith in their existence; he knows. We’ll call him José for the sake of anonymity.

José grew up in a traditional Mayan family, away from the cities, and in harmony with nature and the cycles of life. As a boy, he was regularly part of hunting expeditions. Sometimes at night, he was told to stay in the truck because the jungle is dangerous. The men were never gone too long. He was raised on the stories of the aluxob, who were curious, naughty, and liked to scare people. Humans must be careful not to infringe on alux territory, and offerings should be given to placate them.

One night, José locked the doors of the truck, as usual. He waited for the men to return. Normally, he waited an hour or less, but hours passed by. Then he heard a sound. He looked out the windows on every side, expecting to see men returning. He saw nothing. No movement in the bush, no words or human voices. The only thing he heard was a garbled whispering, in a language he didn’t understand.

He kept looking out each window, until he heard scratching on the bumper, and the vehicle started to rock back and forth. Then the whispering, became an unhuman cackle, and he hid under a blanket until it stopped. At some point, the rocking and cackling became whispers again. Then silence. No rustling of the bush, but he had a sense he was alone.

He stayed under the blanket for another hour. The men came back tired, and empty handed. That was unusual. José’s family is convinced the aluxob were not happy they were hunting that night. The family didn’t bring an offering, and they trespassed. They never did it again.

And from Huatulco …

I was intrigued by José’s story, and asked a local guide if he had any legends to share. He said he didn’t have legends, only experiences. I’ll call this guide Marco.

Marco grew up in the hills before Huatulco became a tourist area. He ran barefoot with his friends, and explored every inch of what we now call the Magic Waterfalls. His family taught him the dangers and beauty of the jungle: how to identify a poisonous snake, what trees to use for medicine, and the signs of the duende.

Sometimes there was screaming coming from the gullies at night. It sounded like a young child, injured or desperately lost. The cries happened when young men were walking on the road in the dark, alone. They knew the screams were a trap. Huíchaa tried to trick them, and they hurried home. Sometimes Marco saw an old man, someone unfamiliar, following him on a path. After a few minutes, Marco turned around to see the man had become a dog and went into the bush. Marco’s friends had similar stories. This was part of growing up in rural Mexico.

People may say these are imaginations of basic and uneducated minds. Yet Marco got a higher education in the U.S., then returned home to be of service to his people. He is convinced there is something not human, and not animal, living in the jungle.

Even in Oaxaca City

When I went to Oaxaca City, and met with an elderly guide, I posed the same questions about local myths and legends. This man speaks Zapotec languages, and Spanish as well as English. His profound knowledge of pre-Hispanic culture was invigorating and humbling. He avoided my questions at first. I thought it was a language barrier. Then I used a translator to be sure he understood me. He looked into my eyes, exhaled slowly, and told me I should stick to thoughts about the alebrije.

Alebrije are not legendary pre-Hispanic creatures, but an artistic endeavor from the 1930s. A man named Pedro Linares was very ill, and had dreams about fantastical creatures while he was sleeping. When he recovered, he used cardboard and papier-mâché to create the hybrid animals. He painted them with the psychedelic colors from his dreams, and caught the eye of a gallery owner in southern Mexico. Famous artists like Frieda Kahlo promoted his work, and soon the traditional wood carving artists of Oaxaca were producing alebrije from soft, easily carved copal wood. We see this beautiful art form alive and well today. We have some brilliant artists in Huatulco. Alebrije are not duende, so why would the elderly guide tell me to only think about them?

After returning to Huatulco, I researched everything I could online. Unfortunately, the Zapotec languages are very different from Spanish or other languages I know.* Most information about huíchaa are passed down through oral tradition. Videos and written material are mostly in Zapotec, and our modern tools don’t translate them. What I could find in Spanish, I translated and cross referenced. Yet in the back of my mind, I saw the elder guide, and his piercing eyes telling me to back off. However, I committed to this article, I wasn’t going to stop.

That’s when things started to happen.

I was at the beach for a morning swim. The dry bag was packed and locked, after I got out of the car. I didn’t open it again, until it was time to get back into the car. The bag was in view, as I swam. With my daily exercise done, I grabbed the bag, and walked to the parking lot. At the car, I realized the keys were missing. I emptied the bag. I only put four items in the bag. How could keys get lost? The car won’t lock if the keys are in it, so I knew they weren’t inside. No holes in the bag. The bag was securely folded down and locked shut when I retrieved it.

I retraced my steps to the beach, baffled by how the keys could be anywhere but inside a locked bag. I reached the exact spot where I’d left my things. There in the sand, were the keys, half buried, with a small footprint over the top. I wish now I had taken a picture. I was so shaken by the keys being in the sand, it didn’t occur to me at the time.

I examined the bag, it’s water tight. There’s no way the keys fell out. There were no children on the beach, it was early morning. A child wouldn’t have been able to close the bag. It was a bit of a struggle for me. The bag showed no signs of being opened, and the emergency money was still there.

Various things in my house have gone missing also. I will eventually find them, in some obscure place. We have no children, guests or pets moving things. It’s hard not to wonder if I’ve stirred the duende world.

I’m not saying I believe in huíchaa, but from now on, I will be leaving a small token of my appreciation every time I go to the beach. I hear they like fruit. If the huíchaa don’t eat it, the iguanas will.

*Ed. Note: The Córdoba branch of the Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM) has an online Zapotec/English/Zapotec dictionary, good for looking up individual words (https://www.iifilologicas.unam.mx/cordova/zapEsp.php).