lvmdayofdead

[lvmdayofdead]

Three Women Healers

It is our Day of the Dead tradition to honor Latin American historical figures. In previous years we have honored La Llorona, La China Poblana, La Catrina, among others, and this year we have chosen three women that represent the history and leadership of their cultures. This year we are honoring Salomé Ureña (Dominican Republic), La Mulata de Córdoba (Mexico), and Palla Chimpu Ocllo or Isabel Suárez Chimpu Ocllo (Peru). 

Scholar and writer Xanath Caraza, and Frida Larios and Manuel ‘Ché’ León from Indigenous Design Collective have joined us to commemorate these emblematic figures. We asked Indigenous Design Collective to share their thoughts about their creative process during this project inspired by Caraza’s poems. 

“The three women, healers, and leaders hold their hands and rise in their indigenous light. On the left: the light of the Cempasúchil flower guiding our ancestors to the underworld gateway. In the middle the Inti: the strength of the Inka sun in our blood. On the right: four linked hearts, a symbol of agreement in Ghanian peoples mourning garments. Together, the three women unite in diversity to form a woven fabric: an unbreakable continuous pattern. We use textile and cultural visual language to illustrate the cultural essence and history of these notable women. LatinX and indigenous women in the US today are root to these same values, we must harvest our crop.” –Indigenous Design Collective, Frida Larios & Manuel (Che) León. 

Sun Princess/Princesa del Sol inspired by Palla Chimpu Ocllo or Isabel Suárez Chimpu Ocllo (Peru). 

“Sun Princess, in your womb you conceived a new race. Within your forebear, love for your culture On his forehead, you tattooed gold. From Inti, strength in your bloodline”

Mother of the Lands/Madre de las Tierras inspired by Salomé Ureña (Dominican Republic)

“From your heart, letters grow, nature poet from the mountains of Quisqueya”

Dressed in Marigolds/Vestida de Cempasúchiles inspired by La Mulata de Córdoba (Mexico)

“Dressed in marigolds, your scent lingers along pathways shrouded in pearly fog.”

Follow the Smithsonian Latino Center via Facebook, Twitter, Ustream, and Instagram.

[lvmdayofdead]

Daughter of Chalchihuitlicue and Oshún

By Xanath Caraza

Who was La Mulata de Córdoba? She was an African Mexican healer and midwife from the state of Veracruz, Mexico and born as a free individual around 1780 at a time when many African Mexican people were enslaved.  No one is certain about her birth name, and she was known as la Mulata de Córdoba because of her mixed background and for living in the surroundings of the city of Córdoba in the mountains of Veracruz. 

Around the time she was born, Mexico or New Spain was still a colony of Spain. Although there were other free African Mexicans, it was not common for all African Mexican people.  In that sense, she was fortunate to be free, and most likely her freedom was the cause of envy.

She became quite well-known because of her deep knowledge of Mexican traditional medicine, remedies, the use of medicinal plants and herbs.  This is a skill still appreciated nowadays throughout Mexico and especially in rural areas where doctors are scarce. 

Another medically related asset she had was as a midwife.  We can imagine how well-appreciated she must have been since giving birth at home is even today a challenging event for both the mother, the baby, and the midwife. In addition to her work with traditional medical practices, she was also known for another distinctive feature, her beauty.  Legend says that many men were bewitched by her eyes, hair, and youth. As her legendary fame grew as a practitioner of traditional medicine and also for her beauty, she was condemned by the Spanish Inquisition when she was about seventeen years old.  Some people supported her while others did not.   After her arrest, she was taken to the Port of Veracruz.  Community members lined the road to see her, la Mulata de Córdoba.  She was taken in chains where she was jailed for life in the Fortress of San Juan the Ulúa.  There, she was accused of witchcraft.  She had also recently refused the advances of an official from the city of Córdoba, which likely influenced her arrest. 

One day she disappeared from the Fortress of San Juan the Ulúa.  Since her disappearance was an embarrassment for Mexican authorities, a legend that reinforced the idea that she was a bruja, a witch, was made up in connection to her disappearance.  This legend says that she asked for a piece of charcoal and drew a window on one of the walls of her cell, and through that window, she also drew the ocean and a galleon ship. Then she asked the guard what was missing.  While the guard was thinking about the answer she vanished from her cell and the last time she was seen she was waving at the guard from the galleon ship sailing along with the waves of the ocean.  Since the actual guard was missing too, I have my own hypothesis. I like to think that they had begun a romance and fled together. However, what we know is that she was never seen again.  

Statue of La Mulata de Córdoba in Veracruz, Mexico by artist Juan Balderas Bello. 

Read, listen, and enjoy our homage to La Mulata de Córdoba, "Dressed in Marigolds” by Xánath Caraza.

Follow the Smithsonian Latino Center via Facebook, Twitter, Ustream, and Instagram.

[lvmdayofdead]

Dressed in Marigolds

By Xánath Caraza

“¡ay! que bonito es volar a las dos de la mañana a las dos de la mañana ¡ay! que bonito es volar” Dressed in marigolds, your scent lingers along pathways shrouded in pearly fog. Mexicana de bronce, you emerge from the mountains, range of tropical Veracruz. From heart of the jungle where Chalchiuhtlicue and Oshún entwine their spells Coursing through your veins, you are born with magical conga drum and huehuetl rhythms. Mulata de Córdoba, your enlightenment and vision of loveliness daunt men. Your bewitching eyes trap anyone who sees them. Sacred Obsidian stone, allowing to see the future and past, is embedded in your gaze. You bear the smoke of copal, making a path through the thickness of the damp jade jungle. On evenings of full moons, you seek talauma flowers, vanilla orchids, and passion fruit vines for love potions. Dressed in marigolds, your scent lingers along pathways shrouded in pearly fog. Root beer plant foliage guides you in darkness. Arnica, tobacco, and sage shower your long and silent gait. Jimson weed, angel’s trumpet and St. John’s Wort flow through your red veins. Rue, spearmint and anise combine on your bronze skin. Woman of power: As midwife, bringing others into the world is one of your daily tasks. Seashell and sea snail reader, revealing the future is a cherished gift. Exquisiteness of your long and curly hair can make anyone quiver. For this reason and wicked tongues, the Inquisition condemned you. Divinely and adeptly, you drew a galleon ship on the wall of your cell. Only you were missing for the launch to the deep and frigid sea. Daughter of sea foam, of Chalchiuhtlicue and Oshún, mystic lineage, nothing again has been known of you until today. “…volar, volar y volar’ a las dos de la mañana, a las dos de la mañana, ¡ay! Qué bonito es volar”

Poem by scholar and writer Xanath Caraza.

Translated from the Spanish to the English by Stephen Holland.

Artwork by Indigenous Design Collective. Frida Larios & Manuel “Che” León.

Recorded by New Letters On the Air.

Follow the Smithsonian Latino Center via Facebook, Twitter, Ustream, and Instagram.

[lvmdayofdead]

Vestida de cempasúchiles

Por Xánath Caraza “¡ay! que bonito es volar a las dos de la mañana, a las dos de la mañana ¡ay! que bonito es volar” Vestida de cempasúchiles dejas tu aroma en los caminos de nacarada niebla. Mexicana de bronce emerges de las montañas y sierras del tropical Veracruz. Del corazón de la jungla donde Chalchiuhtlicue y Oshún entrelazan sus conjuros. Naces con los mágicos ritmos de la conga y el huehuetl en el torrente sanguíneo. Mulata de Córdoba, tu erudición y belleza atemorizan a los hombres. Tus hechiceros ojos encadenan a quien los vea, estremecen el alma quieta. La obsidiana, piedra sagrada, la que deja ver el futuro y el pasado, la llevas incrustada en la mirada. Cargas contigo el humo de copal. Te abre camino en la espesura de la húmeda jungla de jade. En noches de luna llena buscas la yolloxochitl, la vainilla y la pasionaria para pócimas de amor. Vestida de cempasúchiles dejas tu aroma en los caminos de nacarada niebla. Las frondas de la hoja santa te guían en la oscuridad. El árnica, el tabaco y la salvia deslavan tu largo y silencioso andar. El toloache, el floripondio y la hierba de San Juan fluyen en las rojas venas. La ruda, la hierba buena y el anís, mezclados en la bronceada piel. Mujer de poder: traer a otros al mundo como partera es una de tus tareas diarias. Revelar el futuro, lectora de caracoles y conchas, es un precioso don. La belleza de tu larga y rizada cabellera hace temblar a cualquiera. Por esto y viperinas lenguas, la Santa Inquisición te condenó. Con destreza divina dibujaste un galeón en la pared de tu celda. Solo tú faltabas para zarpar hacia el profundo y gélido mar. Hija de la espuma, de Chalchiuhtlicue y Oshún, linaje de hechicera, de ti nunca más se volvió a saber hasta el día de hoy. “…volar, volar y volar’ a las dos de la mañana, a las dos de la mañana ¡ay! Qué bonito es volar”

Poem by scholar and writer Xanath Caraza.

Artwork by Indigenous Design Collective. Frida Larios & Manuel “Che” León.

Recorded by New Letters On the Air.

Smithsonian Latino Center, 2017.

Follow the Smithsonian Latino Center via Facebook, Twitter, Ustream, and Instagram.

[lvmdayofdead]

Heart of Quisqueya

Salomé Ureña was a poet and educator from the Dominican Republic.  She was a 19th century leader, born on October 21, 1850 in the city of Santo Domingo.   She was raised in a well-read and cultured family.  Her father, Nicolás Ureña, was himself a well-known writer.  He introduced her to the classics of Spanish and French literature and cultivated her love of writing.  These are assets that help her develop as a poet, herself. At the young age of seventeen, Salomé Ureña, or Herminia as her pen name, became a published poet.  Her publishing was historically a unique achievement.  Also, at this time, many women had to take on a male pen name in order to publish if they were to publish at all.  Therefore, her female pen name of Herminia was, from the beginning of her career, unique.  Years later, she wrote under her birth name, Salomé Ureña. Her signature writing style had several attributes, including feminism, nature, and multiculturalism.  Her lyrism, female perspective, patriotism and the presence of nature in her poetry became key. In her writing, she celebrated the land, the mountains, plants, the island of Quisqueya, the original, indigenous name for the island of Hispaniola.  This is significant because Quisqueya is a Taino indigenous word which means mother of the lands.  Ureña wanted to celebrate Taino culture, the original culture of the Dominican Republic and other Caribbean Islands.  Importantly as well, African rhythms are present in the lyrism of her poetry, in addition to the influence of European poetry, mainly from Spain and France. As an educator, Ureña was influenced by her mother, Gregoria Díaz, considerably.  Her mother introduced her to education and the importance of the learning process, especially for women, who many times did not have access to formal education.  In 1881, Salomé Ureña founded the first institution of higher education for women in the Dominican Republic, another unusual achievement at that time.  This institution was an opportunity for education for many women, who, upon graduation, became educators, themselves.  This was a very meaningful logro, an achievement not only for Salomé Ureña but also for women in Latin America since education had been in general unattainable for women beforehand and at this time in history. Salomé Ureña married Francisco Henríquez y Carvajal at the age of thirty.  He was instrumental in the foundation of Ureña’s institution of higher education in the Dominican Republic, as well. Making Salomé Ureña a leading 19th-century figure, her love of education and literature was central.  She died on March 6, 1897, at forty-six years of age, leaving a legacy for women’s rights for generations to come.

Read, listen, and enjoy our homage to Salomé Ureña, “Mother of the Lands” by Xánath Caraza. 

Follow the Smithsonian Latino Center via Facebook, Twitter, Ustream, and Instagram.

[lvmdayofdead]

Madre de las tierras

Por Xanath Caraza

Desde tu corazón crecen las letras, poeta de la naturaleza y montañas de Quisqueya.

Juventud inundada de poesía, versos taínos y caribeño mar. El lirismo desborda ríos, la lluvia se vuelve tinta que de los dedos emana. Mujer de letras, memoria de un pueblo, de ritmos de África llenos de sol. Huracán bravío, Salomé Ureña, consagrada a la educación. Ráfaga de sabiduría al servicio de jóvenes deseosas de seguir tu camino. Visionaria poeta, la educación superior, tu revolución. Inyectas en las manos corrientes marinas. Emprendes el vuelo, Salomé Ureña, en tu isla taína. Alcanzas el mar, siembras letras, cosechas libros, conquistas montañas.

Esparces sabiduría y poesía en Quisqueya, madre de las tierras, poeta de la naturaleza.

Poem by scholar and writer Xanath Caraza.

Artwork by Indigenous Design Collective. Frida Larios & Manuel “Che” León.

Recorded by New Letters On the Air.

Smithsonian Latino Center, 2017.

Follow the Smithsonian Latino Center via Facebook, Twitter, Ustream, and Instagram.

[lvmdayofdead]

Gilded Dreams

By Xánath Caraza

Photo courtesy of Xánath Caraza

Palla Chimpu Ocllo or Isabel Suárez Chimpu Ocllo was a noble woman of Indigenous ancestry from Cusco, Peru. She was Incan. Before discussing Chimpu Occllo’s life more specifically, first let us briefly explore who the Incans were. Originally, the term Inca was a title of nobility and made reference only to the royal families from what we today know as part of Peru, Ecuador, Bolivia, Colombia, northern and central Chile, and parts of Argentina, the Inca Empire.  After the arrival of Spanish, the term Inca became synonymous with mostly Quechua, and Aymara speaking peoples from South America.  Before the arrival of Spanish, the city of Cusco, the Inca Empire capital, was where Chimpu Ocllo was born and later died. Born in 1523, Palla Chimpu Ocllo was the daughter of the Túpac Huallpa and the granddaughter of the powerful Inca Tupac Yupanqui.  As a noblewoman, the privilege of servants was at her disposal.  In addition, she had an abundance of food and had access to certain luxuries, such as jewelry, and textiles with intricately embroidered designs. She most likely learnt how to weave herself, and how to read, among other activities. She was also taught to love her culture and respect her ancestors, her family tree and sacred Incan cities.  After the colonization of Peru, Palla Chimpu Ocllo was baptized as Isabel Suárez Chimpu Ocllo. In 1538, when she was only fifteen years old, she met Capitan Sebastián Garcilaso de la Vega who had just arrived in Cusco, Peru from Spain.  They never married, as was common among the high rank officials from Spain with Indigenous women.  They had one Mestizo, biracial, child together. Chimpu Ocllo and Garcilaso de la Vega’s son was Gómez Suárez de Figueroa, later known as Inca Garcilaso de la Vega.  He, himself, had significant accomplishments as well.  Born in 1539, he spent his childhood in Cusco, Peru in the care of his mother since he was born out of wedlock. His first language was Quechua and he later learnt Spanish. He had a great deal of appreciation for his Indigenous background from her mother’s influence.  At age twenty-one, after the death of his father, he went to Spain where he became the first chronicler and writer of an Indigenous background from the Americas.  He wrote of Peru, the Conquest of Peru, and the Mestizo identity.  His works were well-known and widely-received among Europeans readers. Later, Chimpu Ocllo married a Spanish businessman, Juan del Pedroche, and had two daughters with him, Luisa de Herrera and Ana Ruiz. Importantly, Chimpu Ocllo was as symbol of the grandeur of an Indigenous civilization and a link between two worlds that violently collided.  She was the proud daughter of the Peruvian earth, Pachamama, and the sun, Inti, both symbols of Peru’s ancient and contemporary identity. In 1571, Chimpu Ocllo died at the age of thirty-three in Cusco.

Listen to our tribute to Chimpu Ocllo “Sun Princess”/”Princesa del Sol”

Follow the Smithsonian Latino Center via Facebook, Twitter, Ustream, and Instagram.

[lvmdayofdead]

Mother of the Lands

by Xánath Caraza

From your heart, letters grow, nature poet from the mountains of Quisqueya Youth inundated with poetry, Taino verses and Caribbean Sea Lyricism overflows rivers. Rain becomes ink which emanates from your fingers. Woman of letters, memory of a people, of rhythms from Africa filled with sun Untamed hurricane, Salomé Ureña, devoted to education Gust of knowledge in service of youth keen to follow your path Visionary poet, higher education, your revolution You inject ocean currents into your hands. You take flight, Salomé Ureña, on your Taino island. You reach the sea, plant letters, harvest books, conquer mountains. You sow wisdom and poetry in Quisqueya, mother of the lands, nature poet.

Poem by scholar and writer Xanath Caraza.

Translated from the Spanish to the English by Stephen Holland.

Artwork by Indigenous Design Collective. Frida Larios & Manuel “Che” León.

Recorded by New Letters On the Air.

Follow the Smithsonian Latino Center via Facebook, Twitter, Ustream, and Instagram.

[lvmdayofdead]

Princesa del Sol

By Xánath Caraza

El fragor del Urubamba y el vuelo del cóndor en tus áureos sueños. El rojo ocre del valle sagrado tiñe las telas que cubren tu cuerpo. Orgullo indígena del Cusco, es la herencia para tu descendencia. De tu alma, la gloria de los incas para los demás. Princesa del Sol, engendraste una nueva raza en tu vientre. Amor de tu cultura en tu progenitor. Tatuaste oro en su frente. La fuerza del Inti en su sangre. Implantaste arquitectura, el secreto de las plantas, el susurro de la zampoña y la quena en tu hijo varón. El reflejo de un tiempo manchado de sangre, en tu nombre: Palla Chimpu Ocllo, Isabel Suárez Chimpu Ocllo. Los eternos telares del tiempo con delicadeza bordan tu corazón en el vuelo sagrado del cóndor. La chicha morada se derrama en la tierra. La Pachamama recibe tu canto. Tu áurea esencia en el Sol.

Poem by scholar and writer Xanath Caraza. 

Artwork by Indigenous Design Collective. Frida Larios & Manuel "Che" León.

Recorded by New Letters On the Air.

Smithsonian Latino Center, 2017.

Follow the Smithsonian Latino Center via Facebook, Twitter, Ustream, and Instagram.

[lvmdayofdead]

Sun Princess

By Xánath Caraza

Roar of the Urubamba and flight of the condor in your gilded dreams Sacred Valley red clay dyes cloth which covers your body Indigenous pride from Cusco, this legacy is for your descendants. From your soul, Incan glory for those remaining Sun Princess, in your womb you conceived a new race. Within your forebear, love for your culture On his forehead, you tattooed gold. From Inti, strength in your bloodline In your male child, you instilled architecture, secret of plants, whispering of Pan and Quena flutes. In your name, reflection of a time stained by blood:                                                                                       Palla Chimpu Ocllo, Isabel Suárez Chimpu Ocllo In the sacred flight of the condor, eternal looms of long ago delicately embroider your heart Chicha morada spills onto the earth. Pachamama receives your chanting. Your gilded essence in the Sun

Poem by scholar and writer Xanath Caraza. 

Translated from the Spanish to the English by Stephen Holland.

Artwork by Indigenous Design Collective. Frida Larios & Manuel "Che" León.

Recorded by New Letters On the Air.

Smithsonian Latino Center, 2017.

Follow the Smithsonian Latino Center via Facebook, Twitter, Ustream, and Instagram.

[lvmdayofdead]

Celebrating a Centuries-Old Literary Tradition: Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

By Xánath Caraza

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz is the most important historic literary figure from Hispanic America.  She was born on November 12, 1648 at 11 p.m. in San Miguel Nepantla, Nueva España or New Spain, present-day Mexico and was named Juana Inés de Asbaje y Ramírez. Years later she would become Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz. She died on April 17, 1695 at 4 a.m. in the San Jerónimo Convent in Mexico City at forty-four years of age.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz learnt to read and write in the library of her maternal grandfather in Amecameca in what is today the state of Mexico in Mexico, where she lived there from the ages of three to eight.  Due to limitations of traditional gender roles at this time, she needed to hide in order to be able to read as much as she wanted.  

Of languages, Sor Juana learnt Latin from listening to her sister’s lessons and also learnt Nahuatl, the language of the Mexica or Aztecs by spending time with indigenous servants at her maternal grandfather’s home.

At the age of eight, she was sent to Mexico City.  Subsequently, when she was thirteen, she was accepted for the colonial royal court at the palace of the Viceroy of Nueva España, Antonio Sebastián de Toledo, Marqués de Mancera and his wife, the Vicereine Leonor María Carreto, who became Sor Juana’s sponsor and protector.  

Sor Juana joined two different religious orders in her life time.  Firstly, on August 14, 1667, she became a member of the Convent of San José in Mexico City run by the Discalced Carmelites.  At the age of fifteen and nine months, she left the Discalced Carmelites on November 18, 1667 to return to the royal court.  In a couple of years, she would join a different convent in Mexico City.

While with the royal court in 1668, a relevant event in Sor Juana’s life is when she was examined by the most prestigious intellectuals from Nueva España.  The Vicereine Leonor María Carreto organized this memorable event at the Palace.  Sor Juana was questioned about religion to philosophy and sciences.  History says that she successfully answered each one of the questions she was asked.

With regard for her second convent and in 1669, Sor Juana finally entered the Convent of San Jerónimo in Mexico City and became Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz on February 24 at seventeen years of age.  She remained there until her death.  

It was at this second convent and in her cell where she developed as the most important literary figure of Nueva España and Mexico in the 17th Century.  She wrote poetry, drama, music, philosophical essays and conducted research in the sciences.  Her personal library was considered the largest library in Colonial America.  

Unfortunately, in 1690 she was a victim of the political and misogynistic atmosphere of the time and one of her philosophical essays was published without her permission.  The publication of this essay was accompanied by a letter of criticism and addressed to Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz and signed with a fictional name, Sor Filotea de la Cruz.  Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz responded on March 1, 1691 with the publication of Contestación de Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz a Sor Filotea de la Cruz.  As a woman and religious, she was forced to renounce her library and her few personal objects.  Additionally, she was required to ask for forgiveness and to stop writing in 1694.  

Later that same year, Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz’ health became compromised and she died of the plague in Mexico City on April 17, 1695.    

Read and listen to the poem dedicated to Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz by scholar and writer, Xánath Caraza. Poem available in English and Spanish. 

Follow the Smithsonian Latino Center via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram or visit our website latino.si.edu for more bilingual education resources. 

[lvmdayofdead]

Remembering the Dearly Departed: Day of the Dead Celebration

By Xánath Caraza

Photo: Smithsonian Latino Center, Hollywood Forever Collections

Bright, beautiful and happy, Día de Muertos or Day of the Dead is an ancient celebration to honor deceased loved ones.  It is not a spooky celebration, but a cheerful way to remember and celebrate departed loved ones.  This celebration has deep roots in many indigenous cultures of Mexico.  These are the native Pre-Columbian cultures of Mexico such as the American Indian cultures of the United States.  This Mexican indigenous concept of death in Día de Muertos represents just another stage of the cycle of life.  This can be viewed as a very healthful approach to death many times avoided in our everyday conversations.

Dating back hundreds if not thousands of years, several indigenous cultures from Mexico used to celebrate Día de Muertos before Columbus arrived in the Americas.  Among those cultures were the Mexica or Aztecs in a significant expanse of what Mexico and Guatemala are today.  Keep in mind that the Mexica were the ruling empire before Columbus.  Some other vital indigenous groups include the Zapotecs in the state of Oaxaca, the Purepechas in the state of Michoacán, and the Mayans in southern Mexico and Guatemala.

With the arrival of Spaniards and Catholicism, this ancient tradition of the Day of the Dead blended with All Souls Day / Todos Santos.  What we know today as Día de Muertos in Mexico and Guatemala is the result of a combination of both indigenous and Catholic traditions.  For instance, today it is exceedingly common to find a crucifix or images of saints on an altar de Muertos next to a dish of traditional Mexican food such as nopales or cactus leaves.

One of the many traditions for the Day of the Dead celebration is an altar created with a table in people’s homes which includes an arch of Zempasúchil flowers or marigolds. Another tradition for Día de Muertos is papel picado, which is paper cut with intricate designs depicting traditional scenes of Día muertos such as happy-go-lucky skeletons.  Papel picado is usually made with vibrant colors, such as rosa mexicano, a traditional shade of fuchsia, orange, blue, green, and yellow.  What is more, papel picado is often incorporated into the set-up of the Día de Muertos alter.

To these traditions, let us add the famous and historic Day of the Dead character of Catrina.  An elegant figure, Catrina is a work of art, a woodcut, created by artist José Guadalupe Posada as a satire of the social situation in Mexico in 1910.  Catrina was one of multiple characters that Posada wisely created with his talent to demonstrate the challenges of life and at the same time allow us to laugh at difficult situations.  Posada’s approach lent itself to making Catrina extremely popular, and gradually Catrina transformed into one of the most widely recognizable symbols of Día de Muertos, Day of the Dead.  Originally, as Catrina was a pre-Hispanic, indigenous representation of Mictecacíhuatl, or the woman from Mictlán, she made fun of those who denied their indigenous roots.  As for her clothing, Catrina’s outfit is European, and she, aside from being a skeleton, is beautiful.  Today, for Día de muertos / Day of the Dead celebrations, having a costume contest for best representation of Catrina is common.  Who wouldn’t want to dress up as Catrina for Día de Muertos?  Verdad?        

To learn more about the Day of the Dead/Día de los Muertos traditions visit the Smithsonian Latino Center Día de los Muertos page.

Follow the Smithsonian Latino Center via Facebook, Twitter, Ustream and Instagram.

[lvmdayofdead]

Calaverita

By Rafael Sánchez. San José, CA. 

Ya llego el dia de muertos Y con ello las elecciones Las tranzas de Trump y sus deportaciones Que el diablo y los democratas le robaron las votaciones Los que pasa es que la muerte Lo lleva al camposanto sin vacilaciones Ya llevatelo calaca Y refundelo en unas quemazones Porque para que queremos Politicos hocicones.

Learn more about Literary Calaveras and the Day of the Dead Traditions by visiting: http://latino.si.edu/LVM/DayOfTheDead

[lvmdayofdead]

CALAVERITA  by Yolanda Castillo-Sospa

Mexico City, 31 de octubre de 2016

CASA DE CULTURA “JESÚS REYES HEROLES” Coyoacán, Ciudad de México Autora: Yolanda Castillo-Sospa

http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/92567245

SITUATION: Aquí en la Casa de Cultura se imparten diferentes materias; una de las clases con mayor demanda es la clase de danzón que imparte el profesor Alfredo Salazar  por ello la presente “calavera” va dedicada a esta clase.

CALAVERA La pelona calacuda Ya ha salido del panteón Viene a la calle Francisco Sosa Coquetona y ostentosa A la casa de la Cultura Porque le gusta del danzón

En los patios de la casa Se adornan ya las ofrendas Con papeles de colores Con flores de cempasúchil Calaveritas de dulce Calabazas, veladoras y otras prendas

Mientras; en la clase de danzón Se iluminan muchas sombras Y se alegran las miradas Cuando comienza el “montuno” Y así, surge la alegría Con usual algarabía Y en el momento oportuno

Y en la clase sigilosas Resuenan ya las pisadas Fredy, con mucha pasión, Nos dicta: cuadro, columpio, retiro, Minerva y  también el acordeón.

Por la música y el ruido Se acercan los visitantes A observar por la ventana

Con pasitos vacilantes Misteriosa y arrogante Se asoma la calacuda Exclamando con asombro: ¡Válgame San Agapito! ¡Todos están bien viejitos!

Como están los olores Después de tanta bailada Que hasta Alejandro Cornejo Con pensamiento perplejo Y con toda la razón Hasta le puso a su libro: “Con aroma de danzón”

Ya me voy, ya me despido Yo escribí con emoción Será verdad o mentira, No lo sé.. lo que cuenta Es la intención

Sociological Context. The author, Yolanda Castillo-Sospa, is a retired nurse who worked at the Instituto Mexicano del Seguro Social; the government health institution. A fan of danzón dancing.

My friend, Dra. Cristina Tamariz-Etrada, sociologist, make me the remark that you can notice in the costume, the syncretism of the Mexican and American culture in the celebration of the Día de los Muertos; mainly in an urban context. Yolanda is telling the calavera (Mexican) wearing a witch disguise (American).

Note Danzón: A ballroom dance originated in Cuba; currently very popular in Mexico. It has had a revival since the end of the 1990s. Calle Francisco Sosa: street where the Casa de Cultura Reyes Heroles is located in Coyoacán neighborhood, at Mexico City. Calaveritas de dulce: Some traditional candies made of sugar paste having a skull shape. Montuno: The most vivid part of a danzon melody; usually the third part. Its name comes from the Cuban rhythm Son Montuno. Fredy: the nickname of our danzon professor  José Alfredo Salazar-Pérez. One of the best danzon teachers and a great dancer; he has been one of the principal promoters of the danzon revival in Mexico. Cuadro, columpio, retiro, Minerva y acordeón (square, swing, back, Minerva and accordion): Names of danzón’s dance steps. Alejandro Cornejo: One of our classmates who has written two books about stories related to danzon dancing; one of them titled: “Con Aroma de danzón” (With essence of danzón). Pelona (balded), Calacuda (skullky): Funny names to make reference to the death character. Calavera o Calaverita (skull or little skull): Name of a short rhymed poem, usually festive, that is told during the days close to the Día de Muertos.  

To learn more about the Day of the Dead/Día de los Muertos traditions visit the Smithsonian Latino Center Día de los Muertos page.

[lvmdayofdead]

“Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz”

By Xánath Caraza

Phoenix of America I transgress in time and space to encounter you in these letters.

I write you and on each line you are reborn from mother-of-pearl silence on paper.

Child prodigy, mountains of Mexico, forever in your writing, source of insatiable desire to know

In secret, you enjoy your first readings. Your maternal grandfather’s library is your witness.

Here you commence your literature while discovering new forms of feeling and thinking, childhood games among alliterations in this prohibited world on paper.

You arrive at the viceroy’s court after reaching the age of thirteen.   At seventeen, tested, you are among intellectuals of Nueva España who you surpass without hesitation and with intelligence and astuteness.

On your path to knowledge you initiate in a convent where, at a tender age, you convert yourself in Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, unique combination of beauty, curiosity and ability.

Trilingual Sor Juana, Nahuatl is ringing throughout your writings. Echo of Latin vibrates in thick-walled lecture halls, where you teach.

Spanish for your poetry theater, your essays, philosophy, and your studies of music

Sensitivity and African rhythms in some of your verses, insatiable onlooker, hunger for knowledge accompanies you on each line.

Nocturnal fowl attend to your dialogues and your dreams. They give strength to your essays, source of knowledge your heart.

Your books, written by your own hand, a treasure on paper and ink for humanity.

Telescopes to read the stars, maps to uncover secret routes are just some of your worldly treasures.

Your personal library is the largest one in the Americas. You construct it with each volume you carefully set in place.

Forbidden science books, philosophy and poetry reach your hands, overcoming the obstacles of being a woman and religious.

Conversely this library, the one in your cell, the largest one in the Americas, now, it has disappeared.  

Sor Juana, you embroidery ideas on the pages with black ink that penetrates the subsoil of paper where you write. With your pen, ink makes a furrow in the memory of the world.

Tenth muse, your thought breaks limits; your beautiful structures perforate hearts.  Your poetry is celebrated everywhere.

I transgress in time and space on this mother-of-pearl page to find you. Tenth muse, I celebrate you with each word I write.

To learn more about the Day of the Dead/Día de los Muertos traditions visit the Smithsonian Latino Center Día de los Muertos page.

[lvmdayofdead]

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

Por Xánath Caraza

Fénix de América, transgredo el tiempo y el espacio para encontrarme contigo en estas letras.

Te escribo y en cada línea renaces desde el nacarado silencio del papel.

Niña prodigio, las montañas de México, para siempre en tu escritura, fuente de tu insaciable deseo de saber.

Tus primeras lecturas en secreto disfrutas. La biblioteca del abuelo materno es tu testigo.

En ella te inicias en las letras al descubrir formas nuevas de sentir y pensar. Juegos infantiles entre aliteraciones en ese mundo prohibido de papel.

A la corte del virrey llegas con trece años cumplidos. A los diecisiete examinada eres por intelectuales de la Nueva España que con inteligencia y sagacidad superas sin vacilar.

El camino al conocimiento se abre en un convento donde, a tierna edad, te conviertes en Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz. Singular combinación de belleza, curiosidad y destreza.

Trilingüe Sor Juana, el náhuatl suena en tus escritos.

El eco del latín vibra en las aulas, de gruesas paredes, donde enseñas.  

El español para tu poesía el teatro, tus ensayos, la filosofía y tus estudios musicales.

Sensibilidad y ritmos africanos en algunos de tus versos. Observadora insaciable, hambre de conocimiento te acompaña en cada línea.

Aves nocturnas escoltan tus diálogos y tus sueños. Dan fuerza a tus ensayos.   Fuente de conocimiento tu corazón.

Tus libros, escritos de tu puño y letra, un tesoro en papel y tinta para la humanidad.

Telescopios para leer las estrellas, mapas para encontrar rutas secretas son algunos de tus tesoros terrenales.

La más grande de las Américas es tu biblioteca personal, que construyes con cada tomo que cuidadosamente colocas en su lugar.

Libros prohibidos de ciencia, filosofía y poesía llegan hasta tus manos superan el hecho de ser mujer y religiosa.

Mas esa biblioteca, la de tu celda, la más grande de las Américas, ahora, desaparecida está.

Sor Juana, bordas ideas en las páginas con tinta negra que penetra el subsuelo del papel donde escribes. Hace surcos con la pluma en la memoria del mundo.

Décima musa, tu pensamiento rompe límites, tus bellas estructuras perforan corazones, tu poesía se celebra por doquier.

Transgredo el tiempo y el espacio en esta nacarada página para encontrarme contigo. Décima musa, te celebro con cada palabra que escribo.

To learn more about the Day of the Dead/Día de los Muertos traditions visit the Smithsonian Latino Center Día de los Muertos page.

[lvmdayofdead]

“Catrina” por Xánath Caraza

Mictecacíhuatl, fue. En elegante Catrina, la del sombrero ancho se transforma.

Granate inunda la vista bermejos recuerdos fluyen mientras las hojas del otoño pintan las extensas praderas.

Árbol de vida, extiende los brazos y deja que los espíritus renazcan. En las puntas de las ramas, llamaradas de fuego divino palpitan.

Río viejo, fragor de agua brava de las cavernas naces como trueno en los oídos. Las mariposas escuchan.

Levanta la vista. Aleteo anaranjado, llénala de esencia vital. Espíritus de los ancestros, cubran su corazón.

Nube anaranjada enjambre sagrado en el aire se enreda en su pelo se hace una con él.

Entra el aleteo de la mariposa anaranjada en los huesos, se desborda el aliento divino la vida sigue se escurre entre sus manos

Mictecacíhuatl, fue. En elegante Catrina la del sombrero ancho se transforma.

Se agita el papel picado anunciando a Catrina. Emerge hermosa con su séquito de anaranjadas mariposas.

Exquisita seda cubre sus huesos. Oro e iridiscentes gotas de rocío en su cuello como brillantes joyas.

Distinguida mirada penetra el tiempo. En sus huesudas manos luz, recuerdos y vida.

Baila con su sombrero ancho. El viento danza con ella y la envuelve en humo de copal. La baña de flores amarillas.

Gira Catrina y vuelve a girar en los brazos de la muerte la más bella y alegre melodía. Opalescentes espíritus a su alrededor.

Su boca exhala la canción de zempasúchiles y chirimías. Sonríe a la muerte cuando gira. Las velas titilan ambarina luz.

En su brillante vestido la alegría está bordada. De su sombrero nacen racimos de mariposas monarcas.

Su flamboyante andar entre altares se graba esta noche de celebración.   La hermosa música no cesa. El ambiente lleno de felicidad.

Aroma a copal y calaveras de azúcar reconfortan las almas. Humeante chocolate en el paladar. Rosado papel picado se agita.

Exquisitos sabores en esta festiva noche.  La vida inunda este lugar donde Catrina baila y gira irradiando dicha.

Sólo esta noche vivos y muertos de la mano van.  Chocolate caliente y ambarina luz bañan nuestro andar entre flores, papel picado y sonrisas.

La cazuela con mole se derrama en el altar.  El pan de muerto cubierto de reluciente azúcar invita con su delicioso aroma.

Catrina baila, ríe y canta irradia felicidad como rayos de flores amarillas y trémulo papel picado.

El humo de copal nos guía. Las zempasúchiles nos dan la bienvenida mientras Catrina no deja de bailar.

To learn more about the Day of the Dead/Día de los Muertos traditions visit the Smithsonian Latino Center Día de los Muertos page.