SAN CRISTOBAL DE LAS CASAS, CHIAPAS (CONTINUED)

PART VII: A SIDE TRIP TO SAN JUAN CHAMULA

Situated in the Chiapas highlands just 6 miles from San Cristobal, you will find the very unique, autonomous pueblo of San Juan Chamula. No outside police or military are allowed in the village. “Chamulas” have their own police force, or “autoridades” (authorities). Visitors are welcome, but always scrutinized by the watchful eye of not only the autoridades, but the locals as well. The inhabitants number 55,000+ and are members of the indigenous Tzotzil Maya people.

Here’s what Wikipedia has to say, in part, about San Juan Chamula:

“The church of San Juan is filled with colorful candles, and smoke from burning copal resin incense. Along the walls of the church, as in many Catholic churches, are dressed-up wooden statues of saints in large wooden cases, many wearing mirrors to deflect evil. The local form of Catholicism is a blend of pre-conquest Maya customs, Spanish Catholic traditions, and subsequent innovations.

There are no pews in the church, and the floor area is completely covered in a carpet of green pine boughs and soda bottles (mostly Coca Cola). Curanderos (medicine men) diagnose medical, psychological or ‘evil-eye’ afflictions and prescribe remedies such as candles of specific colors and sizes, specific flower petals or feathers, or - in a dire situation - a live chicken. The specified remedies are brought to a healing ceremony. Chamula families kneel on the floor of the church with sacrificial items, stick candles to the floor with melted wax, drink ceremonial cups of Posh, artisanal sugar-cane-based liquor, Coca Cola or Pepsi, and chant prayers in an archaic dialect of Tzotzil”

Wikipedia also recognizes the difficulty of taking photographs in the town.

“Photography in the town is very difficult as parents will hide their children or they themselves will turn away as soon as they spot a camera. Photography within the church is strictly prohibited.”

In San Juan Chamula, the church sits at one end of the town square and is the main tourist attraction. Here, Mayan customs and tradition, Tzotzil superstition, ancient rituals, and Catholicism, meld together to form one of the most unique marriages ever known. I have been there on three different occasions and have witnessed a sacrificial chicken, blood dripping from the alter to the floor, the fragrant pine boughs that cover the church floor, the smoke and heat of a thousand candles, the burning, choking incense, the drinking of posh, the never-ending chanting, and the suspicious glares from the locals. You can’t help but to get an eerie feeling just being there, being a tourist.

This trip wasn’t much different. There were hundreds, if not at least a thousand, candles burning in the church, attended by an autoridade who would re-light some that went out, and remove those that had burned their limits. Some men and younger boys were allowed to scrape the melted wax from the floors, to be recycled, I’m sure. There was the usual amount of posh consumption, smoke from the candles, incense, and more than enough chanting for me. No dead animals this time around.

I was fortunate enough to visit during a ceremonial time of year. As best I could find out, they were in the process of electing different Mayan Gods to rule and worship for the year! The autoridades were dressed in long white woolen vests, while other Chamulas wore black woolen vests. Some men were dressed in their normal street wear. I couldn’t find out the exact reason for this, but I believe it has something to do with their status in the community. Yet others wore different ceremonial garb with brightly colored red ribbons and special head gear. Women carried clay pots of smoking incense. It seemed like there may have been different sects, as small groups would take turns visiting and worshiping in the church, then line up outside for some sort of ritual run through the streets as the shouted in unison! It was extremely difficult to find out just exactly what was going on. They’re not exactly a friendly group of sorts, but they realize the importance of tourists’ dollars, both foreign and Mexican.

I was fortunate to get a few decent photographs and will share those with you.
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The entrance to the church.

Candles, potients, incense, and more!

The church is very small, but well-attended by both the local indigenous peoples of San Juan Chamula, and throngs of tourists.

The autoridades! Note that some are dressed in white, some in black, some in normal street clothing and others in ceremonial costumes.

The market in the main square in front of the church is small, but crowded and colorful!

This guy was selling some sort of a sewing instrument. I think it is used to spin wool or other yarns on. I profess that I cannt thread a needle. But, yes, I bought one. I'll turn it into a "shelf dweller".

Brightly colored clothing and such, calls for brightly colored yarns! And the market in San Juan Chamula is a good place to buy them!

Food and beverages are always an integral part of any Mexican celebration and San Juan Chamula is no exception. Thier beverage of choice is "posh". A sugar cane based alcoholic drink that is one octane lower than jet fuel.

Obviously, this guy couldn't handle his posh and crash landed!

Some local women wearing the traditional black woolen skirts. Note the one on the right who is selling handmade belts to hold 'em up!

On the way out of town, our little tour group stopped briefly at the local cemetery. All graves were, at one time or another, decorated in pine boughs. The green pine boughs represent life
to the indigenous people of the area. While there, we witnessed a grave robber, of sorts. A young guy and a companion visited each grave site and removed candles, glass containers, etc., and off they went. Who knows - maybe they are caretakers there, but somehow I doubt it.

After the cemetery, we stopped at the small village of Zinacatan where we were hosted by an indigenous family of weavers! Being accustomed to having their pictures taken, they gladly posed for the cameras. We were told that it takes approximately 5 hours to hand weave one wall hanging.

And no, I didn't buy the vest!

After watching the weavers in action, we were invitied into the family kitchen to partake in the eating of tacos! Still not quite up to par, I passed but was very tempted!