In Indian Mexico — Chapter XI - In the Mixteca Alta, part 1

IN THE MIXTECA ALTA

(1898) Of all railroad cities in the Republic, Oaxaca is the most completely indian.

It is the capital of a state the population of which is nine-tenths of native blood.

Fifteen native languages are spoken in the state to-day.

While some of these are related to each other, they are distinct languages, not dialects, even those which are related being as unlike as the French, Italian, and Spanish.

The indians commonly seen on the city streets are Zapotecs or Mixtecs, but at times Mixes come from their distant mountain homes with burdens on their backs, or parties of Tehuantepecanas attract attention, by their fine forms and striking dress, as they walk through the streets.

The market is crowded, even late in the day; ox-carts from the indian towns for miles around are constantly seen in the streets.

Most of the sellers in the market are indians; they bring fruits and vegetables, dried fish from the Pacific, _jícaras_ and strainers of gourds, beautifully painted and polished gourds from Ocotopec, honey, sugar--both the crude brown and the refined yellow cakes--and pottery.

The indian pottery here sold is famous.

Three kinds of wares are well known--a dull plain red, an unglazed but highly polished black, and a brilliant glazed green.

The black ware is made into useful vessels, and also into a variety of toys, chiefly whistles and bells.

Pottery would seem to be one of the least suitable materials for bells.

Here, however, bells of pottery in many shapes are found--little bells, with handles like the upper part of a human figure;

larger bells, with curious flat handles set transversely; others, still larger, like cow-bells in size and tone, and curious cross-shaped bells, really a group of four united.

Among the whistles some are made into the shape of animals and birds and curious human figures; among the latter, some closely resemble ancient whistles from the prehistoric graves.

This black ware is made at Coyotepec, and when the objects are first taken from the kiln they are almost white; before they are cold, they are exposed to dense smoke, and thus assume their black color.

The brilliantly glazed green ware is the most attractive.

Vessels made from it are thin, and, in the parts which are unglazed, resemble common flower-pot ware.

The larger portion of their surfaces, however, is covered with a rich, thick, emerald-green glaze.

Cups, bowls, saucers, plates, sugar-bowls, tea-pots, flasks, and censers are among the forms commonly made in this ware.

The shapes are often graceful and the prices low.

Most beautiful, however, and relatively expensive, are the miniature vessels made in this ware--scarcely an inch in height, but formed with the greatest care, and in such variety of dainty forms that one may seek some time to duplicate a piece which he has found; these little pieces are completely covered with the rich green glaze both outside and inside.

Our plan of journey for the year was first to make an expedition from Oaxaca to the north-west, into the Mixteca Alta; returning to Oaxaca, to strike eastward by way of Mitla, and the land of the Mixes, to Tehuantepec, from which place we should make a brief trip to the Juaves;

returning to Tehuantepec, we should take the high road, by way of San Carlos, back to Oaxaca.

Our first duty in the city of Oaxaca was to procure letters and orders from the governor.

No governor in Mexico more completely realizes his importance and dignity than Governor Gonzales of Oaxaca.

It is ever difficult to secure an audience with him; appointment after appointment is made, only to be broken when the inquiring visitor presents himself, and has been kept waiting an undue length of time.

We had been through the experience before, and therefore were not surprised that it required four visits, each of them appointed by the governor himself, before we really had our interview.

Governor Gonzales, is, however, an excellent officer.

While we were waiting for our letters, after having explained to him our errand and plan of procedure, we had the opportunity to see a somewhat unusual and interesting sight.

Like all public buildings and better-grade houses in Mexican cities, the governor's palace is built about _patios_, or inner courts.

A wide balcony surrounds the court at the level of the second story and upon it the rooms of that story open.

Having given orders that our letters should be prepared, the governor excused himself for a few moments, as he said that certain of his local authorities were ordered to meet him.

We were seated where we could watch the reception.

As we had entered the palace we had been impressed by the great number of indians, carrying official staves, who were waiting near the door.

We now found that they were official delegates from the different towns, and that they had been sent from their homes to give the governor New Year's greetings.

Having carefully arrayed himself for the meeting, the governor took his position in the wide balcony already referred to, with two officials of the palace stationed near, one on either side.

The Indians represented perhaps twenty-five different towns, the delegation from each town varying from three or four to fifteen or twenty persons.

All were dressed in their cleanest garments, and all carried their long staves of office, most of which had ribbons of bright colors streaming from them.

The secretary of the governor arranged these delegations in their order, and they were presented one by one to the chief executive.

As each delegation was presented, its members scraped and bowed, and the _presidente_ and _secretario_ kissed the governor's hand.

A word or two of greeting having been exchanged, the spokesman from the village made a speech, sometimes read from a written copy, after which he presented a bouquet of flowers, real or artificial.

The governor received the bouquet with a bow, placed the flowers on a little table near by, or, if the gift were a large bouquet of real flowers, handed it to one of the attendants standing near, and then made a polite speech of response, emphasizing it with vigorous gestures and plainly expressive of much interest and earnestness.

The delegation then took its leave, always bowing reverently, and each man kissing the governor's hand as he passed out.

As he received this mark of respect, the governor would make a playful remark, or pat the persons on the head, or otherwise treat them as a father might his little children.

Instantly the flowers were cleared away, the next delegation ushered in, and the same ceremony gone through with.

Finally, all was ready for our leaving.

The party consisted of five persons--myself, as leader, Mr. Lang, my American photographer, Don Anselmo, my Mexican plaster-worker, Manuel, and the _mozo_.

All but the _mozo_ were mounted on horses, more or less good or bad.

The _mozo_, Mariano, a Mixtec indian, went on foot, carrying the photographic outfit on his back, and our measuring-rod in his hand.

It was well on in the afternoon before we started, and hardly were we outside the town, before Mr. Lang's horse showed signs of sickness.

His suffering was plain, and every person we met volunteered the information that unless something was done promptly, we should have a dead horse on our hands.

Going to a little shop on the roadside, where strong drinks were sold, we stopped, and after preparing a remedy with the help of a passing Indian, threw the horse down, wedged his mouth open, and gave him what seemed to be an unsavory draught.

More than an hour was lost out of our already short afternoon by this veterinary practice, and long before we reached Etla, where we were compelled to pass the night, it was dark.

Leaving Etla in the morning, looking down as we passed out from the city upon a wonderful group of mounds, we passed rather slowly through the town of Huitzo.

Don Anselmo and I loitered, as we found the whole country to be rich in ancient relics, examples of which were to be found in almost every house.

As the afternoon passed, we found that we were likely to be completely left by our companions, and were forced to hasten on.

The latter part of the daylight ride was up a continuous, and at times steep, ascent.

As the sun neared setting, we reached the summit and found ourselves close by the station of Las Sedas, the highest point upon the Mexican Southern Railway.

We had there expected to overtake the others of our party, but found that they had hurried on.

It was a serious question whether we should try to overtake them.

It had been wisdom to have stayed the night where we were.

In this uncertainty, we met an indian boy driving mules toward Oaxaca, who volunteered the information that he had met our companions, who were just ahead, and that we would soon overtake them.

This decided us, and we started down the trail.

A heavy wind was blowing, and the night air was cold and penetrating.

In a few minutes we met a half-breed Mexican, who, accosting us at once, urged us to go no further.

His manner was somewhat sinister and disagreeable.

He warned us that, if we attempted to make the descent in the darkness, we would at least lame our animals.

He asserted that our comrades were fully three leagues ahead when he had met them, and that we would never overtake them.

He also hinted darkly as to other dangers of the road, if we should succeed in making the descent without breaking the legs of our horses.

Refusing his invitation to stop with him for the night, we pressed onward, and as we did so, he called out derisively after us.

The descent would not have been an easy one, even in the daytime, and in the gathering darkness there was really an element of danger in the journey.

We left the following of the trail almost entirely to our animals.

We were finally down the worst of the descent before night had actually set in.

From here on, although the road varied but little from a level trail, we were obliged to go slowly, and it was with a feeling of true relief that, after floundering for a while in a brook in which our road seemed to lose itself, we heard ourselves called by name, from an indian hut situated a little way up the bank.

As usual, the house consisted of a single room, of no great size, and was lightly built of cane.

Two men, three women, a boy, and three little girls were the occupants.

Our companions were already resting; their horses were unsaddled and were eating contentedly, and we were told that supper was being prepared for us.

Entering the house, we found the women busy making _tortillas_, and fresh goat's meat, hanging from the rafters, gave promise of a substantial meal.

When all was ready, we sat down to the finest of corn-cakes, beans, eggs, and tender kidmeat.

We spread our blankets under a little shelter which stood in front of one side of the house.

None of us slept well.

It was very cold; dogs barked all night long; now and then a sudden outbreak of their barking, and curious signals and whistles, which were repeated in various parts of the mountain, gave us some uneasiness.

At three o'clock in the morning, just as we were napping, Don Anselmo startled us by the statement that our mule was dead.

In a moment, all was excitement.

Mariano examined the animal and reiterated the statement.

As for us, we were in the mood to care but little whether the mule was living or dead.

Half frozen and very weary, our frame of mind was not a cheerful one.

Just before daybreak we could stand the cold no longer, and gathering some dry wood, we started a fire and crowded around it.

The report about the mule proved to be false, and when morning came, there was no sign that anything was the matter with him.

It was nine o'clock before we started on our journey in the morning.

We had three long hours of clambering up and down heavy slopes, and, much of the way, through a stream the bed of which was filled with slippery boulders and pebbles, over which the horses slipped and stumbled frightfully.

Our horses slid down small cascades, but, when we came to larger ones, we had to mount the banks by ugly bits of road, descending below the falls.

After much labor and weariness, we reached El Parian at noon.

Having rested through the hotter portion of the day, we took the road again at two.

We followed up the brook-bed to the point where another stream entered it, at an acute angle.

Up this stream we turned, and after following it a little, struck suddenly up a steep hill, and then climbed on and on over a good road, cut in the limestone rock, up and up, until we reached the very summit.

The vegetation here was a curious assemblage,--palms, cedars, oaks, and a mimosa-like tree, formed the chief types.

The limestone rock upon the summit was curiously eroded, as if by rain rills.

The masses presented all the appearance and detail of erosion shown by the great mountain mass of the country itself; looking at one of these little models, only a few feet across, and then gazing out upon the great tangle of mountain peaks around us, one could almost imagine that the one was the intentional reproduction of the other, in miniature.

For a long time we followed the almost level summit; then a little climb and a slight descent brought us to Huaclilla.

At the _meson_ we found real rooms and true beds, and decided to stay for the night.

The supper was less attractive.

A brief walk about the village brought to light two cases of small-pox, and, on returning to the _meson_, we were charmed to find a third one in the building itself.

Still, we slept well, and were up betimes next morning.

The country through which we were passing was Mariano's _país_ (native land).

Assuming that his knowledge was adequate, we left our _meson_ early, with the intention of breakfasting at San Pedrito, where we were assured that everything was lovely; we were also told that it was but a short distance.

The road thither was through a high open country, planted to wheat and oats and with some _maguéy_.

The road was discouragingly long, but after at least three hours of constant riding, we reached precious San Pedrito, chiefly notable for the amount of _pulque_ drunk there.

It was with the greatest difficulty that we succeeded in getting anything to eat; the breakfast was certainly worse than the supper of the preceding night.

With the prevalence of _maguéy_ as a cultivated plant, the appearance of the houses and other buildings changed, as all of them were thatched with the broad, long, sharp-pointed leaves of the famous plant.

Everyone in the district carries _tinajas_, or little sacks woven from splints of palm.

Here, for the first time, we noticed that many of these had decorated patterns worked in black splints on the lighter ground.

The blackness of these splints is given by exposure to the smoke of burning pine.

Carrying-straps, also made of palm, are used for adjusting these _tinajas_ to the back.

From San Pedrito the road is over a soft rock, which produces, when worn, a white glaring trail.

The country through which we passed was fertile.

Everywhere were fields of grain, wheat, oats, and, as we were descending into the lower land, corn.

The little watch-houses for guarding the newly-sown fields are a striking feature of the landscape.

In the higher districts they were small, conical or dome-shaped structures, made of the leaves of the _maguéy_, and hardly large enough for a man to lie down in.

Lower down, these were replaced by little rectangular huts, only a few feet across, with thatched roofs, the whole construction being raised on poles ten or twelve feet above the ground.

It was scarcely more than noonday when we reached Nochixtlan, where the _jefe_ of the district lives.

Telling him that we desired to visit Yodocono and Tilantongo, he wrote orders for us, and charged some indians of Tidaa to show us the road, so far as they were going.

The country through which we passed was a continuation of that preceding Nochixtlan.

The road was nearly level, with but slight ups and downs, until a little before we reached our destination, when we had an abrupt up-turn to Yodocono, a pretty town on the border of a little lake, which has but recently appeared, and which covers an area which a few years ago was occupied by cultivated fields.

Our letter from the _jefe_ introduced us to Don Macario Espinola, a _mestizo_, owner of the chief store in the village, who showed us gracious hospitality.

We were guests of honor.

The parlor was surrendered to our use; the chairs were placed in such a way that, when supplied with mattress, sheets, and blankets, they made capital beds.

Our meals were good.

Don Macario, on hearing the purpose of our visit, placed himself entirely at our disposition.

Unfortunately, he gained the idea that the people whom we wanted for measurement and photography were old folk, and the most astonishing collection of aged men and women was summoned from every part of the village and surrounding neighborhood, and all had to be measured, although the measurements were afterwards discarded.

[Illustration: YODOCONO] Leaving Yodocono at ten the following morning, we rode to Tilantongo.

Though assured that the road was over a district as level as a floor, we found a good deal of up-hill riding.

Tilantongo itself, with 2,266 inhabitants, is located upon the further slope of a hill, and but few houses were in sight until we were actually in the town.

The public buildings surrounded a small open space, in the centre of which is a stone sun-dial.

One side of this little _plaza_ is occupied by the schoolhouse; the town-house and jail occupy the rear.

The town is built upon a horseshoe-shaped, sloping ridge, and the church is at the edge of the town, at one of the very ends of the horseshoe.

Riding to the town-house, we presented our documents to the _presidente_, and ordered dinner for ourselves and food for the horses.

We had letters to the priest, but he was not in town.

The schoolhouse was placed at our disposal, and we moved two long benches close to each other, side by side; rush mats were brought, and these we laid upon the benches, and upon the teacher's table, for beds.

Mr. Lang and Don Anselmo took the table, Manuel and I the benches, and Mariano had the floor.

The cold was so intense that none of us slept much.

We were astonished, in the middle of the night, and at intervals in the early morning, say at two or four o'clock, to hear snatches of songs.

At first, we imagined it might be some religious festival, but on inquiring, we found that it was nothing but bands of drunken indians making night hideous.

We waited some time in the morning before beginning work, hoping that the _cura_ might come and assist us with his influence.

Finally, wearying of delay, we explained to the _presidente_ the work we planned to do.

We told him we must have subjects for measurement, photographing and modeling.

He showed no great enthusiasm in the matter.

One and another came to be measured, if they chose, but a number entirely refused.

It was plain that something must be done.

Quitting my work, I sent orders for the _presidente_ to appear, and, after an intolerable delay, he presented himself.

I told him that we were losing time; that subjects were not presenting themselves; that some of those who did present themselves refused to be measured; that I wished a _mozo_ at once to carry a report from me to the _jefe_ that my wishes were not regarded by the authorities, and that his orders had no influence; that the _mozo_ must be ready at once, as there was no time to lose, and we should shortly leave his town without accomplishing our work.

The effect was instantaneous.

The official air of arrogance disappeared; he replied quiet humbly that subjects should be at once supplied, as rapidly as they could be brought in.

I replied, "Here are two persons now who have refused; why wait while others shall be brought?"

The fiat went forth, the two obdurate and not good-humored victims were marched up.

As I measured them, they whispered to me that the _presidente_ himself had not been measured, and begged that he be ordered to undergo the operation.

The request was reasonable, and when they were through, they waited to see what would happen.

Great was their delight when, turning to the chief man of the town, I said, "It is best for you to be measured next.

It will set a good example to the rest," and without a word, although I knew that he had stated that he would not be measured, he stepped under the rod.

From then on there was no lack of material.

Our subjects were measured, photographed and modeled as rapidly as we could do the work.

At noon the priest had come.

As he passed where we were working, he gave us an extremely distant greeting and rode on up to the _curato_.

From his castle he sent immediate complaint because our horses had been put into his stable without his permission.

I went to the good man's house and found him hearing confessions.

Leaving with him the letters from the archbishop and the _jefe_, I returned to my work, leaving word that the horses would have to stay where they were, as there was no other suitable place for their keeping.

After a hard day's work, the night started very cold, and we hurried to bed early.

All were sleeping, but myself, when a rap came at the door.

It was a message from the _cura_, begging us to come to the _curato_, where we would be more comfortable.

Sending back a word of thanks, I stated that we would be there for the following night.

[Illustration: MIXTEC HOUSES; TILANTONGO] The _cura_ had been away from home for several days.

The result was that, on his return, his parishioners turned out in force to greet him, and hardly was he housed, when a procession bearing gifts marched to the _curato_.

In front went one bearing flowers.

Those who followed carried some kind of food,--great pieces of meat, fowls, eggs, corn, chilis, and other supplies.

The following morning we were awakened by a great explosion of fire-crackers and rockets, and by pealing bells, announcing the early mass.

After his religious duties were performed, the _padre_ came down to the _plaza_ to watch our work and use his influence in our behalf.

When it was dinner-time, he invited us to go with him to that meal.

We had thought that the donation party we had witnessed was a generous one; after that dinner, we had no doubt of the matter.

Hardly had we disposed of the many good things on the table when the _padre_ took us to a large room, the parish schoolhouse, and showed us the arrangements he had made for our comfort.

Four beds, descending in grade of comfort from the one for myself to the one for Manuel, were shown us.

Never was a party happier to move from one set of quarters to another.

Called away the next morning by his religious duties, the priest left us in charge of house and household.

The work went merrily on in the _plaza_.

We quickly found, however, that the town was getting into a condition of intoxication, and long before noon every person in the place was drunk.

At noon we were waited upon by a committee, representing the town, who informed us that they appreciated the lofty honor which was conferred on the place by our presence, and stated that, realizing that we had brought with us letters from the President of the Republic and from the Archbishop of the diocese, they desired not to be lacking in the respect due to such distinguished visitors.

Accordingly, they said, they had arranged for the brass band to discourse sweet music for us, while we ate our dinner.

No sooner was the statement made, than preparations were begun.

The band stood around us in a semi-circle, chiefly notable for its unsteadiness on its legs, and regaled us with a series of most doleful pieces.

When word came that dinner was ready at the _curato_, the band accompanied us to our stopping-place.

The bandmaster announced his intention of personally serving us at the table.

At the same time orders were given that the musicians, standing without, should continue to play pieces throughout the repast.

[Illustration:] [Illustration:] The last day of our stay at Tilantongo, the _padre_ stated that it must be interesting to see the way in which a parish priest, returning from a visit to a neighboring town, is received by his parish.

Accordingly, he planned that a picture should be taken of himself on horseback, with all the people gathered around welcoming him.

Telling us that he would be ready when we should have made our own preparations for this photographic effort, he waited for our summons.

We quickly found, however, that the proposition, although hailed at first with joy, did not create great enthusiasm.

We recommended to the people that they should get ready; told the musicians that the band should be prepared, and that soon we should send for the _padre_ to be welcomed.

When we finally succeeded in getting the matter under way, and were seriously thinking of summoning the reverend gentleman, it was reported that an old woman had been found dead in her lonely hut that morning, and arrangements were at once started for her funeral.

In vain we suggested that they should wait until the picture had been made.

Musicians and parishioners alike disappeared, going down to the house where the dead body lay.

The afternoon was passing.

It would soon be quite too dark for a picture.

Meantime, the _cura_, having become anxious in the matter, hastened from his house on foot, to ask why he had not been sent for.

On our explaining that a funeral was in progress, he was greatly outraged.

We pointed out the house in front of which the funeral procession was now forming.

He stood watching, as the line of mourners approached.

The person who had died was an aged woman named Hilaria.

The body was borne upon a stretcher, as coffins are not much used among these people.

The procession came winding up the high-road, where we stood.

The band in front was playing mournfully; next came the bearers, two of whom, at least, were sadly drunk.

The corpse was clad in the daily garments of the woman, and the body sagged down through gaps in the stretcher; a motley crowd of mourners, chiefly women, some with babies in their arms, followed.

One man, walking with the band in front, carried a book in his hand and seemed to read the service, as they slowly passed along.

When the procession had come near us and was about to pass, the _padre_ stopped it; expressing his dissatisfaction at the failure to arrange for the photograph which he had ordered, he told the bearers to take the corpse out behind the house and leave it there.

They did so, returned, and were arranged in a group with the _padre_ in their midst, and photographed, after which the body was picked up again, the procession was reformed, and proceeded as if nothing had happened.

The following morning at six o'clock we were again upon the road.

We first descended into the valley, passing the miserable hut from whence the dead woman had been borne.

In all the yards we noticed peach-trees loaded with their pink blossoms.

From the deep and narrow valley, we began to climb steadily upward.

We passed along the side of a gorge, the bed of which had all the appearance of a giant stairway.

Higher and higher we mounted, leaving San Juan Diusi on our right.

Great masses of gray clouds hung upon the summits of the highest mountain, their lower line coming very nearly to our level.

The wind beginning to blow, the gray mass soon was whirled and spread down like a great veil around us.

We were indeed glad when we began to descend and have a little shelter behind us, against the wind, and dry skies instead of damp clouds above us.

Making a sudden descent, we found ourselves in a cleared district, where the only trees left on the high summits were palms, which bore little round dates with round seeds; these were quite sweet and good.

Small ranches were scattered, here and there, along the road.

After another descent and ascent, we found ourselves in an extensive forest of great gnarled oaks, thickly covered with tufts of air-plants and with orchids.

Many of the latter were in full bloom, forming masses of brilliant color.

In making the descent from here, we found the slope composed of slippery limestone, with sharp, rain-channeled surfaces, where our horses with great difficulty kept their footing.

Soon after we were down, we reached San Bartolo.

This purely Mixtec town was a delightful spot.

It is large, and strung along two or three long straight streets.