Tag Archives: julie etra

The Muralists of Huatulco

By Julie Etra

Most of us are familiar with the most well-known Mexican muralists of the 1920s, and the associated political movements: Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco, and David Alfaro Siqueiros. But here in Huatulco there are murals everywhere, on public and private spaces, for example the market Tres de Mayo as you drive into La Crucecita on Guamuchil. Those of us who frequent Xipol, a popular corner restaurant and bar on the zócalo in La Crucecita, or even just pass by, can’t help but notice the outstanding murals by Irving Cano depicting Mexican women of all ages. Another well-known excellent local artist, although not strictly a muralist since he also works in other media, is Hergon Hernandez Gonzalez, known as Heriberto.

Our good friends Doreen and Larry Woelfel commissioned local artists to paint the dome at their residence in Conejos with native birds common to the area, and what a wonderful job they did. I was lucky enough to contact one of the muralists, Marco Daniel Galguera Perez, known as Daniel, and learn a little bit about him and his subjects.

Daniel reminds me that “My artist name is ‘Xants,’ in reference to my village in the mother language of my people. I am from the community of [Santiago] Xanika in the Sierra Madre Sur de Oaxaca. I am 22 years old, and began my studies as an artist at age 15.

“I had a somewhat limited life in art as a younger person, for family reasons, as they did not appreciate that I was passionate about art. It was why I left home at that age, the teacher who mentored me was José Ángel Del Signó, he gave me direction in art. Then the Colectivo Tilcoatle opened, where I developed a bit artistically, and lived in Huatulco for three years. Before starting to live as an artist, I worked with a monitoring network of professionals monitoring medium and large mammals in the Sierra Madre Sur.

“At age 19 the doors opened for me to study at the university in Huatulco [UMAR], but where I only studied for 2-and-a-half years, since for economic reasons I could not continue, but there I worked on what is known as screen printing, plastic arts [in Spanish, the “plastic arts” can refer to all the visual arts], graphics. I specialized in el huecograbado [in which an image is engraved into the printing plate or cylinder], and began developing the skills of mural painting and handmade paper.

“I recently completed a mural at the Laguna Manialtepec [west of Puerto Escondido]). Now I’m traveling along the coast leaving large format paintings (murals) in public spaces. About a month ago I started murals documenting customs and social groups in the Mixtec region of Oaxaca.”

Those of us lucky enough to have a surface worthy of their work should consider supporting these local artists by commissioning a personal work of art.

Learning Mexican Spanish

By Julie Etra

Spanish was established as a distinct language around the 13th century, distinct from Catalan and Portuguese, when Alfonso el Sabio (Alfonso the Wise), assembled his scribes in the courts of Toledo to document various subjects, including astronomy, law, and history, thus acknowledging it as a written language. Spanish, like its cousins, was considered a Latin dialect, the Romans having invaded the Iberian Peninsula in 206 B.C. It is laced with Arabic words, such as almohada (pillow), as the Moors, from Morocco, arrived on the Peninsula about 711 (and were conquered by Ferdinand and Isabella in Granada in 1492). It is the fourth most common language in the world, following English, Mandarin, and Hindi. Standard Spanish can be considered Castilian Spanish.

Oaxaca, the name of our home state, is not a Spanish word. It is derived from the Nahuatl word Huaxyacac, which refers to a tree called a “guaje” (Leucaena leucocephala) found in many parts of Mexico. The name was originally applied to the Valley of Oaxaca by the Nahuatl-speaking Mexica, aka Aztecs, who had conquered the region.

Here are some helpful words and phrases to help you with your coastal Spanish.

Let’s start with “cool,” an American word supposedly coined in the 1930s by saxophonist Lester Young to describe something as intensely good.

There are three common ways to say something is cool.
padre (this widely accepted term means “father”)
chido
perrón (literally, “dog”)

And then there is chingón. This is a bit more intense and means something outstanding, super, and is very slangy. Watch it with this word as conjugations have totally different meanings. Chingar, the verb, is very vulgar in Mexico. Chingadazo means easy and quick, as in a quick and easy recipe, but also means a forceful blow. (The -azo suffix is very common, for example slamming a door is a portazo, derived from puerta). And chingadera, well, that means everything is screwed up, annoying, much like the US expression “SNAFU”; it also means to be far away in a nebulous place, as in hasta la chingada. You will hear these, but I don’t recommend using them.

HANDY EXPRESSIONS

A menos que: unless, as in “unless the flight is late.”
¿A poco? and No me digas: Both mean REALLY? As in “Are you kidding?” or “No way!”
¿A ti que mas te da?: What’s it to you?
¿Como vas? ¿Como te vas?: How are you doing? What’s happening?
Con permiso: Excuse me – literally, “with permission,” as in when you want to pass in front of someone; perdon also means “excuse me,” as in when you bump into someone or want to get someone’s attention.
Cuanto antes, en cuanto: as soon as
De vez en cuando: from time to time
Estamos a mano: We are even, as in when you pay your bill.
Mas vale tarde que nunca: better late than never
Ni modo: Too bad, tough luck
Para llevar: to go, as in food to go
Por si acaso: just in case
¿Que tal?: What’s up?
Sale vale: okey dokey
Sin son ni ton: neither here nor there, it does not make sense
Tengo ganas: I feel like it, I have the urge. As in Tengo ganas de regresar a Huatulco – I want to go back to Huatulco! Or Tengo ganas de llorar – I feel like crying.
Vale la pena: It is worth it.
Que pena: What a shame. (Also, que lastima – What a pity.)

HANDY VOCABULARY

Atajo: shortcut
Ballena, caguama: big bottle of beer
Banda: group of friends, clique
Chavo/chava: kid/child
Chela: beer (instead of cerveza)
Degustar, probar: taste, as in try a taste
Disponible: available
Eso (literally, “that”): That’s right, looks good, quite so, thumbs up
Garrafón: the 5-gallon jug of water
Grupo: band (music)
Hielera: cooler, essential for llevando las chelas a la playa
Huevos revueltos: scrambled eggs; huevos bien cocidos: over hard; huevos tiernos: over easy
Lana (literally, “wool”): money
Los invitados: guests, like those coming for dinner, as opposed to huespedes (hotel guests)
¿Mande? ¿Como?: What? Say that again? (used almost exclusively in Mexico)
Nunca: never
Próximamente: coming soon, like a vaccine for COVID 19
Quizás, a lo mejor, tal vez: perhaps, maybe
Pausa, descanso; break (as in take a break) – Tomar una pausa. Tomar un descanso.
Sino: in addition, on top of it

SLANG

Although we extranjeros may not feel comfortable actually “slanging,” we hear a lot of these common sayings.

Dale: Give it your all, everything, best effort
Fresa: snob (literally, strawberry)
Fuchi: smells bad
Güey or wey: dude, as in ¿Que honda güey? What’s happening, dude?
Hasta la madre: fed up
Huacala or Guacala: gross, tastes bad
Hueva: laziness, noun with same import as the adjectives
perezoso or flojo. Tirar/echar la hueva, tener hueva: to be doing
nothing
Porfa: short for por favor, please, Also porfi, porfis
¿Q’ hubo?: What’s happening?
¿Que onda?: What’s up?
Sale, dale, vale: Ok, let’s go! Let’s do it. Also, sale: See you
later.
¡Simón!: Yes! i.e., with enthusiasm
¡Ya basta!: Enough already!

Al Pastor and the Lebanese Influence on Mexican food

By Julie Etra

Yum! One of my favorite Mexican dishes is Tacos al Pastor, layers of marinated meat, slow-cooked on a spit with a vertical flame, slivered up and served on a warm corn tortilla with all the side fixings. The spit, called a trompo (“spinning top”) in Spanish, slowly rotates as it cooks the al pastor, which in Mexico is usually pork. Marinades vary, but can mostly be classified as “adobo,” which includes achiote and ground red guajillo chilies, resulting in the reddish colored meat. The pastor part, which means “shepherd,” is derived from the verb pastorear (“to herd”), as this fixture in Mexican street food is actually Lebanese in origin and the corresponding meat was lamb (pigs are not herded). In the Middle East, the dish is called “shawarma,” and originally consisted of spiced lamb roasting on the slow-turning spit and served on pita bread; when it arrived in Mexico, the pita eventually became a wheat flour tortilla (as in tacos árabe). This method of cooking on a rotating spit is also customary in Greek food, e.g., the gyro (think gyroscope), a meat sandwich of beef, veal (oh no, not a fatted calf), lamb, pork, or chicken.

Lebanese Food Comes to Mexico

Records show that the first Lebanese arrived Mexico in 1892, initially concentrating around Puebla and to a lesser extent Mexico City and the Baja. At the time, Lebanon was not a distinct country but part of the immense Ottoman empire. The immigrants were largely Christians fleeing political persecution, and they rapidly assimilated in Mexico.

The first Middle Eastern restaurant in Mexico was opened in Puebla by Yerbagues Tabe Mena y Galeana in Puebla in 1933. Called “La Oriental,” it was located at Avenida 16 de septiembre, #303. Since lamb apparently was difficult to find and expensive, and since the Mexicans preferred pork, the family quickly adapted. Traditional Lebanese spices, such as caraway, cardamom, nutmeg, and ginger were gradually replaced with Mexican spices but tacos árabes are in part defined by the wheat flour tortilla, not corn.

The restaurant moved to its current location near the zocalo in 1942; it’s at Portal Iturbide, #5. The sign reads “La Oriental: la cuna del taco Árabe” (“The Eastern: the birthplace of the Arab taco).

Speaking of spices, there are numerous spices not originally Mexican but over the centuries and decades have found their way into Mexican cuisine, e.g., cumin (comino in Spanish) and cilantro.

Cumin, which seems indispensable in so many Mexican dishes, is in fact from the Mediterranean, introduced to Mexico by the Spanish conquistadores. Cilantro (called coriander when you are referring to the seeds) is related to cumin, as they are both in the carrot/parsley/celery family. Although its origin remains uncertain, it is also most likely from the Mediterranean and it has been in use as a spice and as a medicinal plant for about 5,000 years. There are references to the use of coriander in the Old Testament (in Exodus) and The Arabian Nights. Coriander, too, arrived in Mexico with the Spaniards, along with cinnamon (canela) and cloves (clavos).

Lebanese Culture in Mexico

Who are some famous Mexicans of Lebanese origin?

Number Uno has to be Carlos Slim Helu, better known as Carlos Slim. I have to assume, dear readers, that most of you know he is the 5th-richest person in the world, the wealthiest Latin American and worth about $68.9 billion US dollars, but did you know he is of Lebanese descent? Slim is the son of Julián Slim Haddad (born Khalil Salim Haddad Aglamaz) and Linda Helú Atta, both Maronite Christians from Lebanon. Slim’s father emigrated to Mexico from Lebanon at age 14, apparently to avoid conscription in the Ottoman army, making Slim first generation on his father’s side. His mother was from Chihuahua, but both her parents were also Lebanese immigrants. The Soumaya Museum in Mexico City – and most of its contents – are the gift of Carlos Slim.

The actress Salma Hayek Jiménez, aka Salma Hayek, is also of Lebanese descent. She was born in the state of Veracruz, Mexico. Her father, Sami Hayek Domínguez, is Lebanese, having emigrated from the city of Baabdat, Lebanon. Her mother, Diana Jiménez Medina, is Mexican/Spanish (her maternal grandmother and great-grandparents were from Spain).

The supermarket Chedraui, aka Super Che, is one of the two big box stores in HuatuIco and is part of a chain of super stores founded by the Lebanese immigrants Lázaro Chedraui Chaya and his wife Ana Caram in 1927 in Xalapa, Veracruz. First known as Port of Beirut, this highly successful chain now includes stores in the United States in California, Arizona, Nevada, and Texas, under the names El Super and Fiesta Mart.

The Ahuehuete, Mexico’s National Tree

By Julie Etra

Designated the National Tree of Mexico in 1921, officially confirmed in 1924, the evergreen ahuehuete tree has a complex linguistic background. Taxodium mucronatum, the ahuehuete tree or Montezuma bald cypress, is called ahuehetl in náhuatl, which means “water drum” or “old water” (atl = “water” and hueheutl = “old”). The “old” part refers to the epiphytes that festoon the ahuehuete tree; these are lichens or bromeliads often attached to and hanging from the branches.

The ahuehuete also has numerous common names associated with the indigenous language of the particular area where it is growing; for example, in Oaxaca it is known as tnuyucu or t-nuyucul in Mixteca and yagaguichiciña in Zapotec. It is related to the giant sequoias of northern California as well as the bald cypress found in the southeastern United States. The Spaniards named the tree sabino as it resembled a pine from their mother country.

The ahuehuete grows throughout Mexico, but its complete range runs from southern Texas to Guatemala; it is found in a wide range of climates, from the semi-hot to temperate to cold. It is associated with water – riparian (riverbank) areas, springs, or high groundwater, and is remarkably fast growing. Rate of growth can be up to six feet per year on good soils, but will grow fast even under drought conditions. It has an unusually thick trunk toward the base, even on young trees. In maturity, it has a broad-topped, spreading shape.

Perhaps some readers of The Eye have had the opportunity to visit the Tule Tree (El Árbol del Tule), the enormous specimen of Mexico’s national tree in Santa María del Tule on the outskirts of Oaxaca City (see Alvin Starkman’s article elsewhere in this issue). At 48 meters (over 157 feet) in circumference, its trunk is the largest of any known tree in the world, although the tree is only 43 meters (about 141 feet) in height. It is also one of the oldest trees on the planet, at about 2000 years old according to carbon dating.

But where is the water it’s supposed to need? Like the ancient Lago del México, the location of modern CDMX (and ancient Tenochtitlan), there used to be a lake at Santa María del Tule; it was surrounded by marshes, supporting lush growth of bulrushes and cypresses. Hence the name “Tule,” the common Mexican name for the long-gone bulrush. In recent archaeological excavations at Tlapacoya II, in the state of México, an ahuehuete trunk was located in a layer carbon-dated as being 23,150 +/- 950 years old, indicating ancient riparian forests that no longer exist.

Before the arrival of the Spaniards and the subsequent conquest, the Mexica group of Aztecs cultivated the trees as ornamental and shade plantings in the center of their chinampas (floating agricultural systems) and along pathways throughout the Basin of Mexico, which included six lakes.

Designated the National Tree of Mexico in 1921, officially confirmed in 1924, the evergreen ahuehuete tree has a complex linguistic background. Taxodium mucronatum, the ahuehuete tree or Montezuma bald cypress, is called ahuehetl in náhuatl, which means “water drum” or “old water” (atl = “water” and hueheutl = “old”). The “old” part refers to the epiphytes that festoon the ahuehuete tree; these are lichens or bromeliads often attached to and hanging from the branches.

The ahuehuete also has numerous common names associated with the indigenous language of the particular area where it is growing; for example, in Oaxaca it is known as tnuyucu or t-nuyucul in Mixteca and yagaguichiciña in Zapotec. It is related to the giant sequoias of northern California as well as the bald cypress found in the southeastern United States. The Spaniards named the tree sabino as it resembled a pine from their mother country.

The ahuehuete grows throughout Mexico, but its complete range runs from southern Texas to Guatemala; it is found in a wide range of climates, from the semi-hot to temperate to cold. It is associated with water – riparian (riverbank) areas, springs, or high groundwater, and is remarkably fast growing. Rate of growth can be up to six feet per year on good soils, but will grow fast even under drought conditions. It has an unusually thick trunk toward the base, even on young trees. In maturity, it has a broad-topped, spreading shape.

Perhaps some readers of The Eye have had the opportunity to visit the Tule Tree (El Árbol del Tule), the enormous specimen of Mexico’s national tree in Santa María del Tule on the outskirts of Oaxaca City (see Alvin Starkman’s article elsewhere in this issue). At 48 meters (over 157 feet) in circumference, its trunk is the largest of any known tree in the world, although the tree is only 43 meters (about 141 feet) in height. It is also one of the oldest trees on the planet, at about 2000 years old according to carbon dating.

But where is the water it’s supposed to need? Like the ancient Lago del México, the location of modern CDMX (and ancient Tenochtitlan), there used to be a lake at Santa María del Tule; it was surrounded by marshes, supporting lush growth of bulrushes and cypresses. Hence the name “Tule,” the common Mexican name for the long-gone bulrush. In recent archaeological excavations at Tlapacoya II, in the state of México, an ahuehuete trunk was located in a layer carbon-dated as being 23,150 +/- 950 years old, indicating ancient riparian forests that no longer exist.

Before the arrival of the Spaniards and the subsequent conquest, the Mexica group of Aztecs cultivated the trees as ornamental and shade plantings in the center of their chinampas (floating agricultural systems) and along pathways throughout the Basin of Mexico, which included six lakes.

The trees lined the canals and were planted in the pre-Hispanic parks and gardens, which were abundant – Mexico has had a long and storied love affair with gardens, and particularly trees.

Ahuehuetes were a major feature of the gardens of Moctezuma, and before him Nezahualcoyotl (see the 100-peso bill). And it undoubtedly sheltered Hernan Cortés on the Noche Triste, the Night of Sorrows, where he supposedly wept as his invading army of Spanish conquistadors and their native allies were driven out of the Aztec capital at Tenochtitlan (not for long). As the lakes have been drained and paved, many of these trees have succumbed to loss of habitat and altered hydrology.

Pre-Hispanic Mexicans prepared various parts of the tree for medicinal purposes. They burned the bark for an astringent, to heal burns, scars, and skin ulcers. Other medicinal ailments were treated through the preparation of resin, leaves, buds, stems, fruit, and bark included edema, heart conditions, diarrhea, and hemorrhoids. The wood was used for furniture and beam construction, and burned as fuel. Ahuehuete trunks, due to their hardness and resistance to rot, were used to make canoes.

Ahuehuetes also had spiritual and mythic significance, and were considered ancestors, brothers and/or gods associated with creation stories. The Mixteco chiefs of Apoala (northwest of Oaxaca City) believed that the gods and the first chiefs originated from the branches of majestic trees growing adjacent to rivers. The “broken tree” (arbol quebrado) myth of the Mexica, which is portayed in the Codice Boturini, represents the birth of the Mexica people as an independent nation. In general, pre-Hispanic texts reference the religious, magic, and cosmic properties of trees, particularly those species that grow close to rivers and springs.

Another legend about the ahuehuete is related to its use as temporary housing. By divine mandate a husband and wife took shelter in the hollow trunk of an ahuehuete in anticipation of a flood. The gods drained the land and the couple survived. Currently, among the people of the Huasteca (a geographical and cultural region of the Meso-American Huastec people – it runs along the Gulf coast and inland to include parts of five states in central Mexico) – the tree plays a role in the holiday celebration of the initiation of planting, in accordance with the agriculture calendar. Other current religious rites consist of petitioning the gods for rain by wrapping a statue of San Antonio de Padua in braided roots of the ahuehuete, then burying the statue in a well dug near the river. Archaeobotanical studies have revealed that branches of the ahuehuete were used as offerings in a variety of religious ceremonies, particularly in the Basin of Mexico.

Through its continued traditional and religious uses, therapeutic qualities, versatility in construction, and use as a fuel, the ahuehuete maintains is its place in contemporary Mexican culture.

Who’s Your Daddy?

By Julie Etra

There is enormous variation in the animal, and even the plant, kingdom when it comes to reproduction. Parenting and sexual roles are an even more complicated topic, with lots of shades of gray. So, let’s start close to home with the fish of the waters, reefs and bays of Huatulco:

Seahorses
The male seahorse gives birth. These animals are found in shallow tropical waters and occur in the reefs around Huatulco. Seahorses aren’t really good swimmers – they swim upright and typically hide in sheltered coral reefs and rocks. They are closely related to pipefish, which swim horizontally, and both have a bony exoskeleton instead of an internal skeletal system. The male has a pouch; when seahorses mate, the female deposits up to 1,500 eggs in this pouch. Incubation takes up to 45 days, and the very small baby seahorses emerge fully developed. The young are released into the water and the male often mates again within hours or days. They are not hermaphrodites, as the sexes are separate and remain so.

And what is hermaphroditism?

A hermaphrodite is “an organism that has complete or partial reproductive organs and produces gametes normally associated with both male and female sexes. Many taxonomic groups of animals do not have separate sexes.” Male gametes are sperm, female gametes are eggs. In summary, they start with full male and female capabilities, and potentially change from one to the other depending on the circumstances, which can be myriad.

Protogynous hermaphrodites are born female and at some point in their lifespan change their sex to male. As the animal ages, it shifts sex and becomes a male animal due to internal or external triggers. Protogyny is more common than protandry, where the male becomes female.

Hermaphroditism is a fairly common occurrence among coral reefs species, particularly the wrasses, parrotfish, gobies, and some species of eels.

Wrasses
These are very common around the reefs of Huatulco; we have the ubiquitous rainbow wrasse, Mexican hogfish, and the distinctive rockcrawler wrasse. Their reproductive strategies are complicated. The rainbow wrasse has two types of males and two methods of reproduction. The Mexican hogfish starts life as a female, and after having achieved a larger size, becomes a functional male. The males gather in groups to perform competitive displays to attract females and defend their reproductive territories; the groups are known as “leks” and the displays as “lekking.” (Other species, notably the sage grouse, also gather in groups to attract their “harems” for mating.)

Parrot fish
We have these fish in the Bahías, but they are not common. If you are snorkeling or scuba diving, you might a crunching sound – the parrot fish are dining on coral. What makes these fish unique is that they can change their sex throughout their lifetime. Primary males are fish that are born male and stay male, while secondary males are males that are born female and become male when they reach sexual maturity.

Gobies
Gobies are members of a very large fish family; their habitat is the shallow waters around the reefs of Huatulco. They have mommies and daddies. Daddies protect the nest from predators, take care of the eggs by fanning the eggs to increase the availability of oxygen, while mommies keep the house nice and tidy. When the females quit their household duties, the eggs are consumed by the males. Some species of gobies can change their sex, and their genitalia will change to follow suit. Sex change can occur over days or weeks and from female to male if the dominant male has died.

Saltwater Eels
We have morays and zebras in our reefs. Some species are hermaphroditic, starting their mature life as males, changing sex later to females, but some are both female and male at the same time.

Clownfish
These fish don’t occur in our reef systems here but they are too interesting to not mention. Made famous by Nemo (not a gender-accurate portrayal!), they live symbiotically with anemones, each helping the other to survive and thrive. The sea anemone protects the clownfish from predators and provides food. The clownfish in turn defends the anemone from its predators and parasites. Clownfish schools are female dominated; the females carry both female and male reproductive organs.

The large female fish is dominant, but upon her death the dominant male gains weight and changes sex. While she is still in charge, she mates only with the breeding male. The rest of the community comprises sexually immature males, or ‘”bachelors.” Changing sex is determined by hormones that cause the testes to disappear and trigger the development of the ovaries. Parenting? Both the male and the female maintain and guard the eggs once they are laid by the female.

Anglerfish
Here is another super odd one, a species that does not occur on our beautiful coast, but is just too interesting not to mention – the anglerfish. To get a look at them in action, go to http://www.livescience.com/48885-rare-anglerfish-video-footage.html.

These fish dwell at great depths, below 984 feet, in Monterey Canyon off the central coast of California. The male is tiny compared to the female. Once he finds a willing female the male bites and latches on to her belly. Their tissues fuse, the male wastes away, and all systems become one. The male’s only purpose is to provide sperm, while the host female becomes a bizarre self-fertilizing hermaphrodite.

For plants, the phenomenon of no mommies or daddies needed is perhaps more common than you might realize.

Succulents
These include Hens and Chicks and Mothers of Thousands. These easy to grow succulents are very common in gardens and nurseries around Huatulco, as well as higher up in temperate climates, including San José del Pacifico, well above Pochutla on the route up the mountains to Oaxaca. Although they flower and can produce seed, they more commonly produce new plants with their own root systems, e.g. vegetative reproduction. Thanks to some local friends, I have a lovely Mother of Thousands in our Huatulco garden. It is also known as the “devil’s backbone,” “alligator plant,” or “Mexican hat plant,” and is native to Madagascar. Each plantlet has its own root system, ready to drop off from the momma/poppa plant and establish a new plant.

Cactus
We all know the Nopal plant, of which there are many types in Mexico and the southwest United States. Also known as prickly pears, these cacti prefer warm, dry or seasonally wet climates like our own selva seca (seasonally dry tropical forest). They also produce a fruit, known as a “tuna” (one of the delicious flavors of the shaved-ice nieves available in the Huatulco Organic Market). The tuna contains seeds which readily geminate. But the big pads, called pencas, that are sliced and diced and commonly cooked in Mexican cuisine, can become detached and roll downhill, or attach to and detach from cattle and wildlife, and establish new roots at the base of the penca – hence new plants, no seeds. Voila.

Papayas
Ah papayas, that yummy tropical fruit, whose origin is the southern coast of Mexico, have male and female flowers on separate plants, but also both on the same plant. The male plant actually possesses female parts but they are not fully developed or functioning. However, with rising temperatures the plant can generate a fruit-producing female. Female plants can produce fruit, with seed if pollinated, or without seed if not pollinated (think unfertilized chicken eggs).

Hermaphroditic papaya flowers have both functional male and female flowers. They are capable of producing fruit and don’t require pollination. However, like male papayas, they can change gender. They may switch to being male during hot weather, or to female after being topped.

Despite our expectations of neat and not-so-neat nests filled with eggs, and mommies and daddies hatching the eggs and feeding the squawking hatchlings, there are species that do not really share parenting, and there might even be a few instances of hermaphroditic reproduction.

Cassowaries
These large, colorful, flightless birds are native to Australia and are related to emus and ostriches. The cassowary breeding season occurs in May and June when the male prepares the nest, which consists of a pile of leaves and other debris, and the females lay three to eight large eggs. The male then sits on the nest for 50-52 days, adding or deleting litter in order to regulate the nests’ temperature. After the chicks emerge, they remain in the nest for about nine months while daddy protects them. The female is not involved in raising the chicks, rather going off to lay more eggs in the nests of several other males.

Chickens
And last, hens turning into roosters? Is this possible? Even in Huatulco? Apparently very rare, but it has been documented. Consider the case of Gertie the hen, who hailed from England. In 2011 she suddenly stopped laying eggs, grew a characteristic rooster comb, and began acting like a rooster. This is due to the unique physiology of chickens. They have one ovary and an undeveloped sex organ that can become a testicle or an ovary but remains dormant unless environmental triggers and subsequent male hormone production result in its morphing into a rooster appearance. Although it cannot reproduce, it develops behavior characteristic of roosters, including aggressive territorial behavior and crowing at dawn. (Of course, if you’ve ever raised chickens, you know they crow at dawn, midnight, lunchtime, whenever they damn well feel like it!)

“Variety is the spice of life,” ain’t it grand?!

A Revolutionary Woman: Josepha Ortiz de Dominguez

By Julie Etra

Josefa Ortiz de Dominguez was an intelligent, formidable, and outspoken woman, exceptional even given the time and place. She was a leader, along with her husband Miguel Dominguez, in Mexico’s fight for independence from Spain, which began in 1810 and lasted 11 years.

She was born in 1768 in Morelia, Michoacán, to a middle-class family of Spanish descent, and was thus by definition a criolla. Her father, a regiment captain, was killed in battle when she was very young. After the death of her mother, also when she was young, her sister took charge of Josepha’s education and enrolled her in the Colegio de San Ignacio de Loyola, where she learned to read and write, along with the basics of mathematics. As was typical for the era and in preparation for an inevitable role as a future ama de la casa (soul of the household), she also learned household responsibilities and skills, such as embroidery.

In 1791, at the age of 23, she married Miguel Domínguez, who at the time served as an official of the government of New Spain. He was appointed Corregidor of Querétaro in 1802, a local administrative and judicial official (based on Roman law). As a representative of the crown, he provided an essential, respected, and powerful link between the territorial government and the Spanish crown.
Following their marriage, Josepha, now called La Corregidora, joined her husband in the growing conspiracy to overthrow the Spanish crown. Organizational meetings were held in the couple’s house, under the pretense of being tertulias, or intellectual gatherings, which, due to his position, Don Dominguez did not attend in person. Although passionate about and committed to the cause, Josepha continued with her duties as head of the household, customary and expected, and included the education of her two adopted children (his first wife had died) and their additional eleven children. Their marriage endured until Miguel Dominguez died in in 1830.

Back to the clandestine meetings – Josefa increasingly aligned herself with radical groups, and although risky, the organizational meetings in the Domínguez household continued. Ironically, Don Dominguez was directed to intervene on behalf of Spain. Pretending to carry out their orders, but aware of the impending danger, he confined his vocal and opinionated wife to her room in an attempt to limit her communication with the other co-conspirators. His family was in jeopardy. His wife’s strong beliefs, however, were already known to the authorities.

In early September 1810, she prepared a letter, disguising her handwriting, and managed to get it to co-conspirator Ignacio Pérez in the house next door. She meant it for publication by the newspapers to warn her co-conspirators that their plans had been discovered, and that the crown was aware that they had been amassing arms. On September 15, however, Pérez rode first to San Miguel, where there was another conspiracy to promote independence, and then to Dolores, where he delivered the news to Father Miguel Hidalgo, who was located in the town of Dolores (now known as Dolores Hidalgo and the “Cradle of National Independence”), about 70 miles (112 km) north of Querétaro.

Father Hidalgo decided to expedite the insurrection, and issued the Grito de Dolores (the Cry of Dolores) for the revolution to begin at dawn on September 16, 1810. Thus, the long, painful, and bloody process of the emancipation of Mexico began; it would not be achieved until 1821.

Thanks to Josepha’s warning, many conspirators escaped arrest, but she and her husband were arrested the very same day as the Grito de Dolores. Josepha was incarcerated in the convent of Santa Clara in Querétaro, while Don Miguel was incarcerated in the convent La Cruz. He was judged first; all charges against him were dismissed, in part thanks to local support.

She was not so lucky and was transferred to Mexico City in 1814, to be incarcerated in the convent of Santa Teresa. Despite the efforts of her husband, who served as her defense lawyer, she was convicted of treason, and in 1814 was sent to the convent of Santa Catalina de Sena, considered stricter than Santa Clara. The financial situation of the large Domínguez family was dire during those years, since Miguel Domínguez, seriously ill, had no income to support their many children. Spousal visits were also rare. Finally, Spanish Viceroy Juan Ruiz de Apodaca recognized the services of Don Domínguez and restored his salary and released Josefa in June of 1817, after seven long years of imprisonment.

She was principled throughout her entire life. In 1822, just one year following independence, Agustín de Iturbide proclaimed himself emperor of Mexico and Josefa was invited to appear in the court as a maid of honor for his wife, Ana Duarte de Iturbide. She emphatically declined the invitation as intolerable mockery, since the concept of an empire was totally contrary to the ideals for which she had fought. Josefa Ortiz de Domínguez shunned fame and recognition, believing she had done nothing more than fulfill her responsibilities.