Flower Festival

 

      Fes­ti­val Coro­na de Flo­res fea­tured cos­tumed dancers in Plaza Armas. The major focus of our vis­it to Zacatlán was the Crown of Flow­ers Fes­ti­val. In the Náhu­atl lan­guage of the indige­nous per­form­ers, the Fes­ti­val is called Ilhuitl Cuax­o­chitl. On the stage are the Queen of the Fes­ti­val and her princess­es, bedecked with flow­ered crowns and neck­laces resem­bling Hawai­ian leis. Groups of young stu­dents in gor­geous cos­tumes danced the first day. The men above wear char­ro out­fits, lack­ing only the huge round som­breros. The women wear the nation­al col­ors of Mex­i­co: red, white, and green.     
Admir­ing a new baby. The infant’s moth­er cra­dles it in a tra­di­tion­al car­ri­er called a chi­ta in Span­ish, or in Nahu­atl, huá­cal. She wove the chi­ta from rat­tan and a fibre from the maguey plant called ixtle. It has a han­dle which can be used to car­ry it over the shoul­der or sus­pend­ed from the head.
Dan­za de los Negri­tos. The cos­tumes for the Dance of the Lit­tle Blacks includ­ed a hat I found par­tic­u­lar­ly inter­est­ing. In addi­tion to its flower adorn­ments, the hat car­ries a long black fringe that hangs in front of the eyes of the per­former, almost as a mask. Both male and female per­form­ers wore the cos­tume, and the only way to tell the dif­fer­ence is the style of shoe. The dancer in the fore­ground above appears to be a female. The long rib­bons of the hat and gold fringes of the sash and pants swayed and rip­pled with the move­ments of the dancer.
A moth­er and daugh­ter enjoy a moment togeth­er in the after­noon sun. In many indige­nous cul­tures, moth­er and daughters–including even tiny girls–wear the same style of tra­di­tion­al cloth­ing, topped by the filmy shawls. Pho­to by Mary Car­men Olvera Tre­jo.
Los Quet­za­lines cli­maxed the first evening’s per­for­mance. The head­dress­es in par­tic­u­lar were spec­tac­u­lar. The feath­ered hats imi­tate the plumage of the Quet­zal bird, a sacred ani­mal among many pre­his­pan­ic cul­tures. Quet­zals are found through­out south­ern Mex­i­co and Cen­tral Amer­i­ca. Quet­zal­coatl, or the plumed ser­pent, appears in the myths of Toltecs, Mayas, and Aztecs.
Quet­za­lin steps out. Los Quet­za­lines danced vig­or­ous­ly and their lines surged back and forth across the broad, open plaza. Once again, both males and females wore the same cos­tume, iden­ti­fi­able only by their shoes. Dan­za de los Arcos y Teje­dores. All the par­tic­i­pants in the Dance of the Arcs and Weavers here were male, rang­ing from teenagers to elder­ly men. The arcs of flow­ers they car­ry sym­bol­ize the flow­er­ing plants of May. They danced in pairs, in par­al­lel lines, and ulti­mate­ly formed up for what appeared to be a May Pole dance, which you will see lat­er in this post­ing. While their dance cloth­ing was less spec­tac­u­lar than the stu­dents from the pre­vi­ous day, Mary Car­men assured me that this was the “real thing.” These peo­ple were per­form­ing tra­di­tion­al dances that had come down to them from their ancient pre­his­pan­ic ances­tors. Note the man in the mon­ster mask in the upper left of the pho­to.