Photo of Omar Castro around taken 1992 in Mochicahui, Sinaloa, Mexico
¡Feliz Día del Niño! Happy Children’s Day! April 30, 2014, Children’s Day here in Mexico.
The photo above is of a new friend of ours whom I greatly admire, Omar Castro. In this photo he looks to be about five years old. It was one of the first times he danced with his father in El KONTI, and the photo is taken in the central plaza of Mochicahui, in front of the church.
If you follow this blog, you know we had the pleasure of fulfilling my dream and attending KONTI this year. A week or so after that, I spent some time with a nationally renowned photographer and a well-known international journalist. As Greg and I were talking to them about our recent trip to Mochicahui for these Yoreme Mayo festivities, they were both bemoaning that EL KONTI had become too modernized, too watered down. They lamented the misfortune that some Fariseos now wear masks representing Disney characters, or metal leggings rather than traditional leggings made of dried cocoons. They advocated that ceremonial leaders should be stricter: insist that participants only wear traditional dress, and that they follow the Catholic-native rituals more closely.
Normally, I would strongly agree with this point of view. I am an interculturalist; I am strongly in favor of preserving cultural traditions. So, my initial response to these two gentlemen was to explain that Omar and other Yoreme leaders are doing their very best to educate their communities about these centuries-old traditions—explaining many of the points that are in my KONTI blog post. I so admire Omar and the other community leaders for their efforts to preserve the traditions.
But, I was torn. I also reminded my two meal-mates that the real tradition of KONTI is, of course, pre-Hispanic—and thus, pre-Catholicism. If we were to preserve traditions without change, there would surely be no crucifixes, no stations of the cross, no Spanish language prayers, no churches, and no Bible references in the celebration of KONTI. I explained to my esteemed colleagues that while I strongly feel traditions need to be preserved, that they belong to the people. To thrive as vital components of society, traditions need to be living, dynamic customs—and that perhaps requires change and “modernization.”
I believe Omar and other leaders of the Yoreme traditions see this. They teach community members the old ways, through their example, their coaching, and via the school system. They have a young artist from Europe living in the pueblos right now, contributing drawings to a book they are writing on the Yoreme traditions. They value tradition so much that they also permit the use of non-traditional masks or leggings. I believe this is because they know that the people need to make the traditions their own. The tradition needs to speak to individual members, to resonate with them, to have meaning and purpose for them.
I met several young men in Mochicahui who would not have been able to dance in KONTI if not for their tenabaris made by hand out of recycled tin cans, because the butterfly cocoons were far too expensive for them to afford, or they didn’t have access to the cocoons they needed. Thus, keeping the traditional open to some modernity and flexibility enables more people to get involved, to learn the tradition, to breathe continued life into it. I am confident that those young men will save their money or make a trade so that they have traditional tenabaris next year or the following; it’s a process.
Same with the Disney-esque masks. Personally, I loved them. To me it was proof that people want to participate in KONTI, that they find joy in the communal aspects of the worship and desire to join in. Again, I know community leaders prefer them to wear traditional, hand-carved wooden masks (almost every Disney-esque mask I saw was hand-carved from wood, by the way). I know leaders teach that, and promote that. But I also salute community leaders for the fact that they do no prohibit non-traditional masks. To me, it keeps the tradition vital.
It’s a delicate balance, preserving tradition and maintaining its vital place in community. It’s a process, with a tension between change and status quo. It requires us to remember a tradition’s purpose, what is at its core. The photo up top is of Omar as a child. He and his wife are now expecting their first child. The tradition continues. And adapts.
My admiration goes out to the Yoreme Mayo leaders who so well demonstrate that. I learned so much from them on that one day I spent in Mochicahui!
Historic photo of the church in Mochicahui. Today the building on the left is in ruins; the chapel at far right stands proudly.
In June it will be six years since we started this blog, and this past week we were afforded an excellent opportunity to reflect on our experience with it. You see, Greg and I were invited to present at a tourism conference at the Universidad Tecnológica de Escuinapa. It was a wonderful experience—the students were amazing, we met some incredible people, and I also really enjoyed how it motivated me to reflect on where we’ve been and what we’ve learned.
Dianne giving her presentation
Greg during the workshop
Rector of UTE with Dianne and a student
Dianne giving her presentation
Speaker gift—almost too pretty to eat!
The Centro de Cultura Escuinapa
Greg and Dianne at the workshop
About 175 people attended
We started VidaMaz.com in order to stay in touch with family and friends after our move. We wanted to be able to share a bit of our new lives with them. What we quickly learned, however, was that the most avid readers of our blog were people who loved Mazatlán, who fantasized about living here, or who already enjoyed living here. We started without any sort of a plan; we were just going to publish posts about our experiences, our daily lives.
And we did.
We love watching the sunset from our balcony each evening. We found ourselves taking a photo (or ten) of those sunsets, because we were eager to share our joy and wonder. Every day it was so gorgeous, and so very different from the night before!
We love discovering new places. We became fascinated with the terrific things Mazatlecos were doing in their corners of the city, from the handicapped accessible playground to the swim club in Playa Norte. And we were happy to share what we’d seen.
We fell in love with the fact that here people reuse and recycle, much more than we were used to up north of the border. It made us so happy! We took loads of photos of uses for empty soda bottles, recorded stories of the guy who soldered the handle back on our favorite frying pan while we waited, or the wonders worked by the local cobblers.
We love the cultural activities that take place here, and have enjoyed making some videos about Día de los Muertos, Carnavál, MotoWeek, and Día de la Música. I like crafts, like to “putz” as we called it when I was growing up, and making these short videos was a creative outlet. It was fun.
Then came the swine flu. It had such a huge impact on our daily lives. Movie theaters closed. Concerts were cancelled. Everyone wore masks over their mouths, and used antibacterial gel everywhere. In researching it, the flu seemed to originate on a pig farm in Wisconsin, of all places. But the way Mexico reacted to it caused all sorts of fallout, huge decreases in tourism, and a horrible economic ding on our adopted home.
Next the narco violence rose to the forefront of international media reporting. Wherever I travelled for work, from Istanbul to Bogotá, people looked at me horrified when I told them where I lived. “Why in the world would you choose to live somewhere so unsafe?” So our little blog took on a new passion for us. It was our small way to let people know that we were living peaceful, enjoyable, healthy lives, despite what the media might portray. That Mazatlán was beautiful, was populated by a whole lot of cool and caring people, and that life here was sweet. It was our way to combat the anger we felt that international media insisted on selling only one very negative story of my beloved and wonder-filled adopted country.
A few of the hotels started using our posts, as did some of the realtors and condo associations. They seemed to take our stories about “normal life” as proof to the outside world that living here was, indeed, great. That was fine with us; we just asked for credit. Then we were asked to be interviewed for a few videos, about how it was to live here in Mazatlán as a family, to raise a son here. It wasn’t too long before we were honored to receive an award from the Hotel Association and the State Secretary of Tourism, commending us for our work in tourism. We sure had never planned to be a tourist blog, but such, it seemed, was how we were perceived.
So, six years later, when Dr. Arturo Santamaría Gómez asked us to present at a university conference on using blogs in tourism, we were eager to share our experience and learning. I didn’t realize it would cause me to reflect back, but indeed it did. What had we learned? Where had we journeyed? What stood out most for me was how many incredible people we have had the true pleasure of meeting over the past six years. Even without the blog, we would have met many of them—we are curious, outgoing, we love to learn. But, because of the blog, we’ve met so many more, and have interviewed people in more depth, than we would have normally. This was the true gift of starting a blog—the community it created. The people who are now friends who began as readers, who perhaps wrote us with a question, and now teach us.
So, that very long introduction is to tell you that this past Thursday and Friday we had the distinct honor of presenting at the Congreso Internacional de Creadores de Imagen Turistica, alongside a very interesting Brazilian engineer (Dr. Thiago Duarte Pimental), a Los Angeles Times columnist I’ve long admired (Sam Quiñones), the very talented head chef of Pueblo Bonito (Marino Maganda Pacheco), a charming gentleman from the Nayarit Secretary of Tourism (Raúl Rodrigo Pérez Hernández), and a very talented woman who has changed the face of our fair city in several major ways (Janet Blaser).
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Students attended the conference from several universities in Mazatlán, from throughout southern Sinaloa and northern Nayarit. And were they enthusiastic! I told them their clapping and hollering made me feel like I was an Olympic star! In addition to the main talk, Greg and I gave a 2 1/2 hour workshop on blogs and videos. We were blown away by the students’ commitment to encouraging tourism in a sustainable way—environmentally, socially, and in a way that builds an equitable, respectful relationship between the visitor and host. It was such a joy to be able to work with them!
In addition to the students, we of course met some awesome faculty, tour providers, city tourism professionals, and regional business people. We honestly do live in a place where people rock! We met one young lady who wrote her master’s thesis on a mango tour in Escuinapa. Rather than keep it to herself and make money off it, she has given it to the people, where it belongs, and they are launching it as a public project. Stay tuned and don’t miss out on this cool glimpse into a local farming tradition!
With Arq. Ernesto Rivera Valdéz
With Janet Blaser and Karina Ochoa Leyva (Ruta del Mango)
We are truly blessed to have found such a beautiful home and community here. We are very grateful to have been welcomed to a place within it. It is not often we get to teach young people, so this experience was truly splendid.
Please, take a moment to let us know the kind of stories that you most enjoy here on VidaMaz.com. We’d love to hear from you.
Some of the Judíos en route to Mochicahui, with yours truly in the center.
I am passionate about culture. My friends, family and professional colleagues know that. I hate to see a language or a cultural tradition die out. I feel sure in my bones that when we lose such a treasure, we lose some of the answer—some of the solution—to living together in a sustainable and harmonious way on our planet.
That being said, this weekend we witnessed one of the most wonderful rescues of cultural tradition that I have seen in a looooong time—the return of EL KONTI to the corrida of Las Higueras in the small Yoreme town of Mochicahui!
Traditionally, every Friday during Lent, in each of the Yoreme communities along the Rio Fuerte, the Stations of the Cross are performed by men dressed as Judíos or Fariseos. They dance in honor of God and their families. They dance as a promise to their fathers or their wives—to bring God’s blessings to their families and communities. They dance from nine in the morning till seven in the evening, from house to house, dancing in circles around the cross at each station, covering long distances, with all routes or corridas leading to the central church.
The trouble is, two leaders of the Las Higueras route have died, and many of the 30 or so remaining Judíos have gotten older and are no longer up to the physically taxing role of dancing all day long. Over the past fifteen years the KONTI tradition died out here. Community members were disappointed—they missed their Fariseos, they wanted their homes blessed, they wanted to participate, but there was no clear leader, no one to make it happen for them. The younger people didn’t know the details or subtleties of the tradition. This year a few community leaders got together and made the effort to revive the tradition along the Las Higueras corrida.
We were fortunate enough to meet Omar Castro, a 27-year old leader of EL KONTI in Mochicahui. He is a handsome and well-spoken young man, newly married with his first child on the way. We accompanied him and his group, led by the local Mandón or Chicotero, Toño Mocho, on the Las Higueras route.
Dianne, Omar and Greg, in the church as we were cleaning it up
Omar told us that on the first Friday of Lent this year, it was only him, his brother, and a young boy dressed as Judíos. They felt so alone and overwhelmed at the challenge facing them: to revive this centuries-old custom on the Higueras corrida. The three of them danced the entire five kilometers, visiting every house with an official cross in the yard, dancing around the cross and blessing the families inside and nearby. As is tradition, most every family shares food or drink as well as limosna (a donation to support the Easter Week festivities) with the Fariseos when they visit. The trouble is, the Judíos must eat or carry with them all the food and drink they are given; it’s a sign of respect and gratitude. But, how could two men and a boy eat and drink, or carry, all that was offered to them at 80 houses? Omar tells us he was so over-full, had such a stomachache, that he had to call his wife and ask her to bring him stomach medicine en route!
Fast-forward from the first to the fourth Friday of Lent, March 28th, when we joined the KONTI celebrations, and Omar’s group of three Judíos had grown considerably! He and the community were obviously up to the challenge! Just take a look:
Omar has taught the new young Judíos on his route, instructing them while doing, leading by example. Greg and I felt that his was one of the best-behaved of the five routes we witnessed gathering in the plaza. And, it is now the newest!
SO WHAT IS EL KONTI?
KONTI is the traditional procession and dancing of the Stations of the Cross that occurs on Fridays during Lent in the Yoreme communities. We knew that the men of the village dress up as Judíos (Jews), Fariseos (Pharisees) or yuris, “white people,” representing those who crucified Jesus. What we did not expect was the huge number of people in the procession, the amazing crescendo to which it builds, the remarkable diversity of the masks, the sacredness and intensity of this celebration amidst all the merriment, and, most especially, that so many children participate, from as young as two years of age! (Click on any photo to enlarge it or view a slideshow.)
The Yoreme pueblos in Sinaloa where EL KONTI is practiced include: Choix, San Javier, Baymena, Baca, Tehueca, Sibirijoa, Charay, Mochicahui, San Miguel Zapotitlán, and La Florida. EL KONTI in each of the pueblos is supposedly remarkably the same, and also, of course, slightly different. Bernardo, the Yoreme elder and maestro we got to know this weekend, told us that when he travels up to Sonora, to Tucson with the Yaqui, and even as far as the Hopi lands east of Flagstaff, EL KONTI is very much the same. He says the Mayo language (Yoreme) communicates with the Rarámuri (Tarahumara), Yaqui, and Hopi. Mayo is a Uto-Aztecan language, one of Mexico’s 63 national languages.
In Mochicahui pueblo, there are five routes or corridas. Here is Omar explaining to us what they are, how the limosnas work, and other details of the EL KONTI procession:
So how does it all work? The mandón receives requests from Yoreme families who want to place a cross on their patio. If a family wants to be on the KONTI route, they must have the mandón’s approval. The mandón’s job is then to guide the Judíos from house to house, cross to cross. At each station, the Fariseos dance in circles around the cross. In one place they entered a small chapel to dance as well. After the dance, they receive any food, drink or limosna the local families have to offer, and then they run to the next station.
This was our favorite part of EL KONTI. The houses in Cruz Pinta where we joined the route were very basic, the yards and patios were dusty—bare dirt—and the people were reverent and happy to see the procession. Most of the families were sitting outside near the crosses in chairs or on benches, ready for the procession to arrive. Most of them had made food to share with the Judíos. Most of them also donated some money, into a can, to support the Holy Week festivities. There was a solemn joy at each station. At each house, more Judíos and other participants joined in the procession, so that by the time we approached the town, we were quite a large group. (Mouse over a photo to view a caption; click to enlarge or view a slideshow.)
The mandón followed by some of the Judíos
Grabbing some tamales that a family shared
A family chapel in Pinta Cruz
Inside the chapel
One of the crosses on a patio in Pinta Cruz
A family waiting for the procession to arrive
Dancing around the cross
Over the course of the afternoon, more and more corridas or routes make their way into town, entering the plaza and then the church. The procession gets increasingly crowded, chaotic and festive. We were amazed how many people turned out from this small town of 5000 people, either to participate in EL KONTI or to watch the festivities.
The Fariseos are supposed to complete their route and arrive at the church in Mochicahui by about 4:00 in the afternoon. Once there they first enter the church. Pews have been moved to form two rows lining the walls, and they are filled to capacity. In front of the altar, facing the congregation, a large statue of Jesus is on display. Jesus is attended to by a group of young girls, the Marías, looking pure in white lace dresses. The Marías care for Jesus during his time of trial, wiping his brow, caressing his cheek, kissing his hands and feet. The Judíos dance around the statue, and then retreat from the church to await the arrival of their colleagues from the other routes.
The Jesus statue and the Marías inside the church
Inside the church in Mochicahui, before things got crazy
While they wait, crosses are set up around the perimeter of the church. As more corridas arrive, the plaza, and the church, become increasingly crowded. While they wait for all the corridas to arrive, the Judíos play music and dance around.
The church in Mochicahui with a crowd gathering
Running to complete his route and salute Jesus in the church
Greg with a few of the waiting Judíos
Running to arrive and enter the church
Dancing while waiting for others to arrive
Standing around in the ruins of the old mission
Dancing while waiting for all the corridas to arrive
Once the Judíos from all the routes have arrived in the plaza, they process into the very crowded church, and the statue of Jesus is raised and carried outside. Once outside the church, four men hold a cloth roof, reminiscent to me of a chuppah or Jewish wedding canopy, over the statue of Jesus as it is processed. The procession leaves the church, turns to the left, and proceeds around the church, stopping at each cross or station.
The procession is lead by a maestro, in this case Bernardo, who played flute, as well as by a local man who leads the prayers at each of the Stations of the Cross. This gentleman would kneel down with Bernardo in front of the cross, exhibiting incredible focus despite the chaos going on around him. He and a small group of church members would recite the prayer for that Station after walking around the cross and the statue several times. The Marías follow and surround the Jesus statue, accompanied by some key members of the parish with their prayer books, people holding flags representing major church events such as Guadalupe Day, and church elders carrying other holy relics. The Marías remove the thorned crown on Jesus’ head, wipe his brow, and replace it. Other Marías throw flower petals (representing divinity and life) at the statue at each station, while the main María cleans the petals off. The by now hundreds of dancing Judíos surround all of this, dancing and creating mayhem on the perimeter. This is all in turn surrounded by hundreds of spectators, sitting or standing along the church walls and the KONTI route.
Closeup of the thorned crown
The crowd forms, a mix of Judíos, participants and spectators
A María wipes Jesus’ brow
Closeup of the crowd
Wider angle of the crowd
Some of the Marías in the procession
A young Judío in front of the church
Maestro Bernardo in front of the men carrying the statue of Jesus
The prayer leader kneels before the statue
A pan of the crowd in the procession
People wait for the procession to arrive at each Station of the Cross
As a climax, the procession re-enters the church. By now there is a cacophony of sound: drums, tambourines, maracas, percussive skirts and leg-ware. Christ is carried into the church, to resume his previous position in front of the altar. The Marías clean him up. The Judíos dance around him, filling and over-filling the small church. The pews are filled, and have been filled, for a couple of hours, and those spectators watch the proceedings. Most come up to kiss the Jesus statue, and to genuflect before him.
After everyone takes their turn and things calm down inside the church, Omar and his two fellow leaders, along with a few others and Greg and myself, clean up the church a bit and return the pews to their normal position. They also count the money that they have taken in for Holy Week festivities—money that will pay for food and fireworks, among other things.
In hindsight, it’s interesting to us that it was all percussive music for KONTI; there were no violins, or harps, and only the one main flute. There were a few toy horns, but our guess is these were items brought by those who don’t know the tradition, who embrace it more as a party.
As we left the church about 7:30 pm, there was a huge party happening in the central plaza. Kids were spraying shaving cream, people were drinking beer, food stalls were set up, balloons and toys were being sold, and the gigantic inflatable bouncy house was going gangbusters. A couple of cars had music blaring.
Omar and his extended family most generously invited us to accompany them home for cena. There, Maestro Bernardo played the 16th century harp, and Omar played the fiddle, holding it to his chest despite the chin rest on the instrument. We very much enjoyed the company and the explanations of what we had witnessed during this terrific afternoon and evening. On this fourth Friday of Lent, we ate escabeche de marlin, bean burritos, two kinds of rice, and capirotada for dessert. We drank water or Nescafe, and sat under the stars on their patio, enjoying the evening. With so many children surrounding us, and aunts, uncles, parents and grandparents who are stewarding their community and their families, it was truly a night to remember and treasure.
Our cooks and hostesses this evening, Omar’s family
Omar, Bernardo and Omar’s younger brother, Miguel
HOW THE TRADITION WAS REVIVED
The Yoreme know that it is key to instill a sense of community in their children, including a strong set of values and responsibility. They know that if the children learn these things while they are young, and if they can have fun learning and living this way, they will do so—building strong, responsible, and joyous families and communities.
The Yoreme live near us, in Mexico, a country that has sadly become infamous for violence and drug trafficking. We are located just south of the world’s biggest drug consumers, who have the money to pay for them, and who happen to also have loads of guns for sale. We live in territory that is suited for harvesting marijuana, and we are on the route through which the South American cocaine passes heading north. Amidst this reality, the Yoreme are even more motivated to instill ethics and morals in their children and build strong communities.
The KONTI festival has three leaders, who each serve three-year terms. For Mochicahui, the Pilato Mayor (head Pilate, as in Pontius Pilate) is Jesus Castro Valdéz, who carried a long colorful spear. The Segundo Pilato is Miguel Castro, and the Tercer Pilato is Omar. This is their first year serving in these positions. They were elected to serve because they are young, they know the tradition, and they were willing to take time away from work and their families to coordinate EL KONTI. Omar, for example, has danced in KONTI since he was four years old. He has studied the traditions, plays traditional Yoreme music, and is enthused to currently be one of the leaders. This year they decided to charge Omar with reviving the Las Higueras corrida. He enlisted the help of Toño Mocho, an elderly, one-armed resident of the route, as mandón.
Jesús, the Pilato Mayor
Jesús, the Pilato Mayor
Omar, Tercer Pilato
Omar, Tercer Pilato
Toño, Mandón for la Corrida de Las Higueras
That first Friday this year, on the Las Higueras route, when there were only three Judíos, the able-bodied men, the young people, and the children, watched them dance. They saw them sweat. They witnessed them overeat. They saw their passion. They could also see the tears in their grandmothers’ eyes—how happy they were that the Judíos were once again, after such a long lapse, visiting their homes. They saw their mothers’ pride—that they were able to make tamales, burritos or quesadillas and share them with the Judíos. They thought the dancing looked fun, that the costumes were cool. Perhaps they wanted to share in the food. But, as is most definitely evidenced by the number of Judíos dancing the route by the fourth Friday of Lent, they wanted to participate! They’d ask Omar, or the mandón, if they could join in, and they were told how to do so. The first thing they were told is that they’d need the proper costume.
COSTUMES
Máscara or mask: Traditional Judío masks tend to have exaggeratedly large noses—the way the Spanish probably appeared back in the day to the native Mexicans. The typical mask in Mochicahui is a white, Spanish lady—a yuri. To me it almost looks like a Japanese Noh mask. Masks are usually hand-carved from wood (usually cottonwood or elephant wood/torote), and often covered with animal skin. The masks maintain the anonymity of the Judío. We asked several people how they got their masks. There are people in the community who carve them. Some carve their own, others buy one,someare handed down in the family. There were a huge variety of masks, and some were very modern, including Smurfs and movie characters.
White manta shorts and shirt
Carrilleras, a “skirt,” commonly made of bamboo pieces or reeds which click together like wind chimes as the Judío dances. The carrilleras are often embroidered, and are worn around the waist, over the shorts. I fell in love with the carrilleras; the sound they make is magical, and they look wonderful while people are dancing. We bought a small child’s carrillera for 300 pesos from a gentleman selling them.
Huaraches, typical and traditional, very simple cowhide sandals. These sandals were mostly white, of the typical variety we see here in Sinaloa.
Tenabaris, long strings of butterfly cocoons, dried by cooking them on hot rocks. Into each cocoon a small stone has been placed to make a sound when the cocoon is shaken. Each tenabari is about four meters long, and is wrapped around the Judío’s calves, usually on top of a cloth wrapping so that it doesn’t chafe the skin. We saw a few more modern versions, some made from recycled aluminum cans, and others from sewn or stapled thin pieces of rubber. Obviously these latter versions make a different sound. I have been in love with the tenabaris since I first saw them a few years ago. What a beautiful idea: butterfly cocoons wrapped around one’s leg that produce music! I was too cheap to buy a pair, however, at 1200 pesos. Next time maybe I’ll ask if they have a shorter, child-size strand.
A capa or white cape, usually embroidered with an image of Jesus, the Virgin Mary, or another religious symbol. Sometimes the capas are handpainted instead of embroidered. In Mochicahui these capastendedto be very colorful, some with glitter or sparkles. They were gorgeous.
Many of the Judíos beat drums or tambores, made of leather and usually adorned with religious symbols. They may also shake rectangular wooden tambourines and maracas or gourds.
A rectangular wooden tambourine
A wood and leather drum, hand painted
A lanza or spear, a long stick carried by many of the Judíos. Some also carry wooden swords or daggers. Spears, swords and daggers are often hand painted in bright colors.
A bag, usually woven from straw or twine, like a flexible basket, though also often made from animal fur. The bag is usually decorated or adorned in some way. It’s function is to hold the food and limosna that the JudíosreceivefromtheYoreme families they visit.
Closeup of a carrillera, one of the musical skirts
Closeup of a bag
Closeup of a sword/dagger
Here is a video of a few of the teenagers teaching me the names of the costume parts:
RULES
Next, the new Judíos were instructed that they would need to participate in EL KONTI for good reasons: to honor God or their families. They were told that KONTI is not Carnavál, but rather a celebration commemorating the crucifixion of Lord Jesus and his stations of the cross en route to Calvary. KONTI leads up to the big Easter Week ceremonies.
Judíos should not smoke or drink alcohol. You can see in some of the photos and video that we took that this rule is not followed by all who participate. Judíos should not talk; only pantomime. They are supposed to walk, run and dance to town; they should not ride in a car or truck while performing the ceremony. Some of them are scary, as were the soldiers who arrested Jesus and accompanied him to his death. Some of the Judíos are funny, giving members of the crowd a hard time, joking with them, much as the soldiers did to Jesus and his followers. We had Judíos blow horns in our ears, poke us in the ribs with their drum sticks, and share their long hair with my handsomely balding hubby.
Funning around
Vamping for the camera
Sharing his hair
WHAT WE ESPECIALLY ENJOYED
We loved walking and driving around the area, seeing people getting dressed for KONTI, watching them walk, dance and run on their routes to town. It was truly a family-friendly, community-wide festival. We were very fortunate to have Omar leading the way for us and showing us the ropes. There is a ceremonial center on the edge of Mochicahui, on the way to Cruz Pinta. If you travel here during one of the Fridays of Lent, that would be an excellent place to photograph people getting ready, as there were dozens of Judíos gathering there before making their way into town.
We were fascinated by the incredible mix of pre-Colombian, indigenous ritual (the masks, costumes, method of dancing—KONTI originated in Tasaria, a pre-Hispanic spring ritual), Spanish and Jesuit Catholicism (the Stations of the Cross, prayers, relics), with a bit of modernity thrown in for good measure (masks included Smurfs, movie characters, Japanese tengu and devils) were a joy to behold. I’d suggest you arrive just after noon and plan to start outside of Mochicahuí, on one of the five corridas or routes. To us, seeing people’s homes, witnessing how important KONTI was to the local families, was the best part of the day.
We were rather blown away by the crescendo of KONTI in the plaza during the actual procession—it was organized chaos of a whole lot of people. The sound, the cacophony, was unreal. If you enjoy indigenous cultures and traditional events, KONTI is most definitely one to add to your list.
Finally, the children! I was infatuated with the young children, dressed up, standing amongst the men—toddlers who already knew the dance steps: they knew to bend over, crouch down, stomp their feet so that the tenabaris on their legs and the carrilleras at their waist would rattle. They seemed thrilled to be part of the community. The older children and teenagers were also great to observe, hanging out in groups, yet led by their Pilato. They would drift off on their own, and then their Pilato would herd them back, coach them into how they should behave. It was a beautiful mix of community, discipline, joy and sacredness. Just what more of our communities today would seem to need.
YOU ARE INVITED FOR HOLY WEEK
There are still two more Fridays of Lent this year, prior to Holy Week, if you’d like to drive up and enjoy EL KONTI. Mochicahui also hosts a major celebration during Holy Week, from the night of Holy Thursday through Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Here is one of the ladies from Pinta Cruz, inviting all of you:
DIRECTIONS AND DETAILS
Mochicahui is a town of 5144 people, located just north of Los Mochis on the way to El Fuerte. It is located about 12 km north of Los Mochis—five hours north of Mazatlán on Highway 15. Just past Los Mochis, take a right on Highway 32 towards El Fuerte. The entrance to Mochicahui will be on your left.
The Rio Fuerte winds along the city, at about 500 meters from the central plaza. Mochicahui has been a Yoreme ceremonial center since prehispanic, even pre-Colombian times. It was officially founded in 1606 by the Jesuit missionary Andrés Pérez de Rivas, who arrived with the Spanish conquistadors. “Mochicahui” means “turtle hill”: “cahui” means cerro or “hill,“ and “mochi” means “turtle.” Indeed, the hills near the town church look like turtles.
During the festivities it is very dusty; I recommend taking closed-toed shoes and wearing socks. Many of the dancers wore a bandanna around their nose and mouth, so they wouldn’t inhale all the dust. It’s also hot and sunny, so take your hat, sunglasses, and sunscreen. You can buy water and soft drinks in the plaza, but public toilets were a rare commodity. The ladies of the church were selling food and drink, trying to raise money to build some.
We spent the night at a hotel in Los Mochis, which was very comfortable, clean and convenient: El Doux. We paid about 500 pesos for the night.
We met several locals in Mochicahui who spoke fluent English, having lived much of their lives north of the border. We would recommend, however, that if you attend KONTI you speak Spanish or go with Spanish-speaking friends. If you happen to speak Mayo, you may of course be ok. A connection with a local family or business would also be very worthwhile. We were the only foreigners we saw over the two days. While there were hundreds of spectators, everyone we met was from the immediate area; there were not a lot of tourists.
Of the pueblos listed above that celebrate KONTI, those closest to Los Mochis (and therefore closest to Mazatlán, other than Mochicahui which is both close and perhaps the most traditional) are:
La Florida (15 km from Mochis on the way to El Colorado),
San Miguel Zapotitlán (16 km north on Highway 15), and
Charay (22 km towards El Fuerte).
Many, many thanks to both Luís Hernández Ayala (ITOM YOLEM JIAWI page on Facebook) and Silverio Zambrano López, for helping us learn enough about EL KONTI so that we were willing to make the five-hour drive from Mazatlán. It was Luís who introduced us to Omar. Most especially a big thanks to Omar Castro and his family for their excellent hospitality and teaching. Also our appreciation to Maestro Bernardo, who seems to be an endless source of oral tradition, knowledge and wisdom. We first met him two years ago during the Spring Equinox at Las Labradas.
A group of Yoreme Mayo youth, seeking to preserve their culture and heritage, made this terrific short video about El KONTI:
In early December we travelled to Cosalá to see the Festival of Candles, on the Virgin of Guadalupe Day this year. We’ve been to Cosalá previously, and have always loved it. It’s a very picturesque little town, Sinaloa’s first Pueblo Mágico (so named in 2005), and very deservedly so. It’s a bit farther away than some of our other favorite day trips (2 1/2 hours from Mazatlán), but well worth it, especially when there’s a special event.
Mountain view approaching Cosalá
Heading into Cosalá
Walking around Cosalá
Walking around Cosalá
Favored son of Cosalá
Even the modern hardware store looks quaint
Mountain vistas
Tiled rooves
Walking around Cosalá
Pueblo Mágico means no signboards
Pueblo Mágico means no signboards
Walking around Cosalá
Walking around Cosalá
Walking around Cosalá
This is a historic mining town, and there remain active gold mines
The town’s proper name is Real de Minas de Nuestra Señora de las Once Mil Vírgenes de Cosalá (Royal Mines of Our Lady of the 11,000 Virgins of Cosalá, after the legend of Saint Ursula) and it dates from 1550. The town is beautiful and very well maintained, with cobblestone streets and gorgeous architecture, including many adobe buildings. You won’t find any neon signs here; signs for the town’s businesses, even the international ones like BanaMex, are hand-lettered, as you can see in the photos below. The historic downtown has a central plaza with a beautiful 1800s-era gazebo/kiosko, and the house of the Hernandez Arragon is said to have a ghost—the Woman in White. You can find Cosalá listed on UNESCO’s website.
Cosalá was a very wealthy mining town, and its mines are active today as well. Cosalá was the original capital of the western states (parts of Sinaloa, Sonora and Arizona) back in 1826, and home to the state’s first newspaper. It’s current population is about 20,000. A favored son was Luis Perez Meza.
The people of Cosalá have always fascinated me. There is a dignity and quiet, joyful pride about them. Here are just a few of the folks we happened by this last visit.
We made our journey with our friends Sandra and Héctor, who seem to know everyone and are widely beloved around southern Sinaloa. They arranged for us to have a private performance in the absolutely gorgeous Museum of Mines and History. One of the local teachers, Gregorio Corrales Herrera, who is well-known in Mazatlán for his singing as well as his folkloric dance troupe, conducted the show for us. The town’s Tourism officer, the lovely Martha Susana Aragón Navarro, welcomed us.
The night before, during the Fiesta de las Velas, we had greatly enjoyed the jaguar dancers. On this day, therefore, we were so excited to meet a few of them in person, and I was especially thrilled to learn how the “roar” of the jaguar worked—pull drums called rotares.
Just down from the main church on this very sunny day, we came upon a man who advertised chicharrones de res or fried beef. Since it’s much more common to see fried pork, this really interested me, and we stuck around a while to watch.
After the gorgeous Fiesta de las Velas the night before, the following morning we went to breakfast at Restaurante El Pueblito. The homemade sweet breads were to die for, as was the coffee and food, but the highlight of the experience was the parrot, who just couldn’t control himself. He was everywhere, climbing up the table, eating off our plates. The waiter removed him once, and then the second time had to actually replace him into his cage. Naughty bird!
There are two main churches in town, the Templo de Santa Úrsula, and the Chapel of the Virgen de Guadalupe. There are also two convents: Jesuit and Franciscan. Saint Ursula Temple dates from the 1700s, though there was a church on this site from the 1600s.
We had been told that a gentleman in a small nearby town, El Rodeo, made fruit preserves that were unbelievably tasty, so we took a drive. The preserves were made from squash, sweet potato and green papaya, cooked over open fires with lots of sugar and a bit of spice. It was a charming journey, and we bought several kinds of preserves for Christmas gifts.
Interestingly, one of the shows we enjoy, Saboreando Ando, was in El Rodeo filming an episode. It was rather fun watching Guillermo Guerrero record his interviews. Below are some photos of that, and following the photos I post the copy of Memo’s Saboreando Ando episode on Cosalá.
Papaya preserves cooking, and more fruit waiting
Closeup of the preserves
The preserves cooking
Guillermo
Our group with Saboreando Ando
Next time we go, we want to stay at La Reserva Ecológica el Mineral de Nuestra Señora la Candelaria. Designated an ecological preserve in 2002, there are a hotel, hostel and cabins here, lots of hiking, flora and fauna and, we are told, green macaws. I can’t wait!
Near Cosalá there are also thermal baths (San José de las Bocas), a cave with stalactites and stalagmites, as well as a couple of waterfalls (Vada Hondo and Caudal del Arroyo del Sabinal). There are quite a few places to spend the night, and plenty to see, so though it’s an easy day trip, you might want to spend the weekend or a few days. Enjoy!
Driving Instructions:
Cosalá is a little more than halfway to Culiacan from Mazatlán and well east of the highway. To get to Cosalá, take highway 15 heading north— the old (free/libre) road towards Culiacan. You will go pass exits for El Quelite and San Ignacio and still have a ways to go. It is about a 2-1/2 hour drive from Mazatlán, but well worth it. The views are wonderful. As the road is very isolated and not lighted, we do not recommend making this drive at night. Also, use caution as it is a two lane road and you can encounter an animal or slow-moving vehicle around any turn.
Many people don’t play tourist in their hometowns; it’s very often the truth worldwide. For years, we’ve seen advertisements and heard about a “jungle tour” here in Mazatlán. Those tours weren’t offered, or at least we never heard of them, back when we came here as tourists. We’ve thus never been on one, but I’ve been curious.
We did a “jungle tour” last Christmas in Nayarit that was one of the most incredible birdwatching experiences of my life, and a few years ago we’d done a Marismas Nacionales tour down in Teacapán, where there are over 250 species of birds. We very much enjoyed both of these tours. But here in Mazatlán we’ve already lost so much of the gorgeous mangrove swamps and brackish water estuaries that are this city’s heritage, in which those delicious shrimp and crab thrive, attracting that great variety of water fowl. Would we be disappointed? Would there be much to see up here? We obviously have a lot of gorgeous water fowl here in Mazatlán, so maybe, just maybe, we’d enjoy such a tour.
Then, at Christmas, on the way back from Stone Island, the panga driver asked me if I’d be interested in a jungle tour. He said he could do one for us, and assured me that we’d journey through mangrove swamps, see loads of water fowl and maybe even some mammals, and that there was a farm at the end of the tour with crocodiles. He promised, over and over again, that we’d love it, and gave us a price (1500 pesos for 8 people). He gave us his cell phone number, and when we had a group of friends here with a young boy, and another group that loves the outdoors but really doesn’t enjoy climbing, we thought the jungle tour might make both groups happy. And, indeed, we were all thrilled! HIGHLY recommended!
The tour began in one of the water taxi pangas, departing from the embarcadero near the brewery. Our guide wanted to leave at 11:00 am for a 90-minute tour, but because we all wanted to spend the day eating zarandeado and lounging on Stone Island, we told him we wanted to leave at 9:00 am. I’m glad we did! LOTS of birds were out and about, and we didn’t make it to Stone Island to eat until about 1:00 pm! Our guide kindly took us wherever we wanted to go, allowed us to dally as long as we wanted, and the journey transformed into a four hour one that everybody greatly enjoyed.
As always, the tour of the port itself was fun. We saw shrimp boats coming in, a small panga decked out with a homemade sail (somehow reminiscent of southeast Asia), and loads and loads of tuneros,camaroneros, and ship repair yards. I’ll post about those later, but here are some basic photos of the port portion of our tour.
Parque Bonfíl, the working portion of the port
A shrimp boat coming in
A shrimp boat coming in
A shrimp boat coming in
A watchtower
A panga with homemade sail
We turned right, southeast, at the end of Parque Bonfíl, and into swampland. At first the passage was fairly wide, but gradually it became narrower and narrower, shallower and shallower. Our guests, three from Italy, one from LA, and another from Nebraska, saw mangroves for the first time in their lives. They especially enjoyed seeing how the oysters grow on the roots of the mangroves, and the six-year old Italian kept his eyes peeled for wild cayman (we didn’t see any this day, sadly for him).
Our private tour gang
Our driver, Jesús
In the mangrove swamp
Relaxed passengers, enjoying the ride
Mangrove roots with oysters
In the mangrove swamp
Winding around the mangrove swamp
Bird watching was not disappointing! Everyone in the boat was shutter-happy, and Jesús was happy to cut the motor or pull the boat around in order to help us get the best photos of our subjects. As always, I wished I’d brought my bird guide, or that I knew the names of more of the birds than I do. Please feel very welcome to tell me what these birds are in the comments below, and I’ll label them properly.
After about an hour, we pulled into a small farm, that of Jesús’ brother-in-law. There they harvest palm fronds, drying, cutting and bundling them for sale to broom manufacturers, and they also make their own homemade brooms for sale. Their farm was gorgeous, with papaya, mangrove, banana and coconuts growing. During the week, Monday-Friday, the couple lives here in very minimalist quarters, and then go “home” on the weekend. I assume they have electricity and running water at home, as they sure didn’t have that here. We saw a baby iguana, and to humor our young guest, Jesús caught it so Leonardo could pet the reptile.
Our host at the farm
Pulling into the farm
The farm
Harvesting palm fronds for sale
Cutting dried fronds
Splitting dried fronds
The “house” during the work week
A homemade broom for outdoor use
Coconut groves
Bananas
Baby iguana
Baby iguana
Baby iguana fiit
Another iguana
From this small farm, we walked across to a larger place, where the King David tours put in. Here they’ve built an open-air restaurant where we sampled some of THE BEST cocadas I’ve ever eaten. Here we also saw the cocodrílos, lots of chickens and ducks, and a huge beehive up in a tree. On this farm they were growing squash and yaka. Nothing too exciting, but a pleasant walk. From here it would have been a short walk over to the beaches of Stone Island, but we were way down south from where the palapas are. So, we got back in the panga so Jesús could take us back and drop us off for lunch.
A crocodile in captivity
Croc tail
Closeup of the croc’s eye
A turtle in captivity
I learned what these were called… help me… kayan?
Squash
Yaka
Fresh water well
Duck
Flowers
Commuting by bike
It was a terrific day for all, and one we highly recommend. If you have access to a boat you could do this trip yourself, and I’m confident that most any panga driver would take you for a fee. I am guessing our trip was more expensive than it possibly could have been, as Jesús went through the official channels—we paid at the embarcadero ticket booth. This was just the ticket to enjoyment for three very different groups of travelers!