C

ategory of Seen & Heard

Snapshots of Chile

Thursday, November 13th, 2008

Text & Photo: Julie Schwietert Collazo

This week, I’m traveling around Chile (that long, thin country in South America), and have found myself falling in love–yet again–with another Latin American nation.

Highlights?

Sharing dinner and some local wine under the stars with Chilean bloggers and podcasters in Santiago, talking about national identity, digital media, and–of course–Obama!

Eating the freshest seafood ever and realizing I actually like it.

Listening to a live karaoke rendition of the song “Sweet Child of Mine,” a heavy metal favorite from my adolescence, at a bar in the capital.

Watching the sun rise over the Andes this morning.

Fulfilling one of my life dreams of seeing the home of the Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda (well, one of the three, anyway).

Tromping around the raw, wild landscape of what’s just shy of the southernmost point in South America, penguin watching and meeting super-friendly locals for conversation around a fireplace.

Turning around and seeing a double rainbow out my window this afternoon.

Walking everywhere with these words of Neruda in my head:

Voy a cumplir con todos
porque debo
a todos mi alegría.

No se sorprenda nadie porque quiero
entregar a los hombres
los dones de la tierra,
porque aprendí luchando
que es mi deber terrestre
propagar la alegría.
Y cumplo mi destino con mi canto.

What do you know about Chile? What would you like to know? Have you ever thought about visiting? Leave a comment below!

The Weavers of Teotitlan/Tejedores de Teotitlan

Monday, October 13th, 2008

Text: Francisco Collazo
Photos & Translation: Julie Schwietert Collazo

[vease abajo para la version en espanol]

During our stay in Oaxaca, we meet a family of rug weavers from Teotitlan.

They approach us in a curious manner, offering their wares. First, they offer an introductory price and then lower the quote without determining whether we’re even interested.

It seems as though they understand that prices are connected to the consumer’s desire to buy. What is certain is that we really are looking for something to decorate our home in Mexico City. The rugs and weavings they show us have an exquisite design and craftsmanship.

Mexico has an excellent tradition of weaving and handcrafts that dates all the way back to the pre-Columbian era. Their products are recognized worldwide for their quality and artisanal elaboration.

The colors and themes visible in the weavings are intricate and complex, but sometimes simple and exquisite. What stands out in all the work, though, is the fact that from start to finish everything is done by hand and with natural materials. Each piece requires weeks of work, starting with the design and ending with the finishing touches, resulting in a product of absolute beauty and unparalleled quality.

The prices range from 900 pesos to several thousand pesos, even counting the reduction in price, which is quite common among the vendors.

The weavings and rugs are made of wool from sheep, and all of the colors are made from roots, flowers, and fruit: pomegranate, coffee, indigo, moss, and others, just as their ancestors have done for centuries. The technique has not changed much since its inception.

After a conversation with Constantino and his cousin, Orlando, we decide to buy a few weavings and rugs, but no on the street corner in Oaxaca. Instead, we are invited to their home in Teotitlan, a small town where the men live and work; it’s 25 minutes by car and an hour by bus.

The house of Constantino and his family is constructed of bricks and the floor is exposed clay. There’s nothing fancy about the home, nothing that speaks of prosperity, but nothing that speaks of economic despair, either. It’s the space where he lives, raises his children, and works. There, he raises birds, pigs, his herd, and the white, green, yellow, and blue chickens, whose feathers are tinted by dyes as they brush against the damp rugs and weavings that have been hung in the sun to dry. “They must be easy to identify if they’re stolen or lost,” I tell him jokingly, and everyone laughs heartily, with great enthusiasm.

In her rudimentary kitchen where she cooks with coal and wood, Francisca, Constantino’s mother, is making delicious gigantic tortillas for the family and to sell; it’s how she helps the family economically. Her work is welcome and useful for everyone. The tasks are hard and unending, but they do them each and every day of their lives. For this family, there is no weekend, no days off.

On the streets of Oaxaca, Constantino sells his wares Monday through Saturday. On Sunday, he goes to the other market near their house to sell the leftover merchandise.

His sister, Reina Lopez, lives and works in a small house right next to his, where she makes bags for women. In her house, Reina has erected an altar to the Virgin of Guadalupe; it dominates the center of the home. In the corner, there’s an old sewing machine that is Reina’s workhorse. There are also small statues depicting Christ’s crucifixion, and flowers made as offerings, that once dry, will be used for coloring the weavings and rugs. On the altar, besides the statues of the virgin, are family photos that were taken long ago.

“This is a picture of my grandfather,” says Constantino, pointing to the photograph—“God called him and he left. He was the one who taught us how to weave.” Reina lives in a sea of wool, surrounded by mountains of colors and purses. Every step in her room is like a walk through a labyrinth of finished bags, ready to sell, and family memories.

The work is intense, difficult, and coordinated; cooperation and patience are central to their tasks. Religiosity and belief also play a central role in daily life. The uncertainty of tomorrow has touched them many times: If there’s no rain, there’s no grass. If there’s no grass, there’s no sheep. No corn to make tortillas, nor seeds for making dyes. Nature and God are virtually the same. The human hand plays a secondary role. Everything the family consumes and sells comes from the land. Land is the mother of all, and corn is her gift.

The smell of tortillas fills the air of the family’s patio, and everyone takes part, including Constantino’s cousin, Orlando, his wife, and two of their daughters. There’s also a small house where another cousin works and lives, practicing the art of handcrafting enormous, colorful candles. These are used in the town’s churches to celebrate Sunday mass, and are also popular among young men going to ask for the hand of their girlfriends, consistent with tradition. All of the candles are made of beeswax, and their honeyed fragrance emanates a perfume that fills the air with its sweetness.

Their work starts early in the morning and extends late into the evening: At dawn, they take the sheep to graze, prepare a breakfast of tortillas for the kids who are going off to school, and prepare the goods that will be taken to the market. “At night, while we watch television,” Reina tells us, “the women prepare the yarn and get ready for the next day’s work.” Her voice is positive, and there’s pride in her face. It’s easy to imagine what day-to-day life is for Constantino and his family. The wool, the dyes, the birds, and the family comprise the center of their universe. Life is different here.

Constantino mentions that “in the town, everyone works hard, but you have to be careful talking about how much money you’ve made or how much you’re making, because if you make a lot, people start to envy you and don’t let you go to sell.” “They don’t let you sell?” I ask in surprise. “No, if you make a lot more money than others, you’ll be assigned a job in town for a month or more while others go out to sell and try to make as much money as you. That’s life here. We don’t have political parties or things like that here. That’s tradition.”

Dusk is falling, and the family speaks Zapoteca animatedly around the five weaving looms. They’re happy and in good spirits. Today they made a good sale: five rugs and two women’s purses. Cousin Orlando and his family invite us shyly to see their collection of rugs and weavings, and Constantino’s other cousin takes us to his workshop to see a candlemaking demonstration.

It’s already time for us to go when Francisca appears with her enormous and delicious tortillas, inviting us to eat. The meal is simple: tortillas accompanied by a tomato and meat sauce, served with a soft drink. The women and children eat with us and describe the ingredients once they learn of my interest in Mexican cooking. All of the ingredients are natural and made in the house. The meal is delicious, simple, and healthy. It’s an unforgettable experience for us.

Through Constantino and his family, the weavers of Teotitlan have opened their doors to us with great love and humility. They’ve shared their tortillas and their great spirit with us. The women in their traditional multicolored outfits make us feel special and well-received. We leave not only with their weavings and their work, but also with a millennium’s worth of Aztec craftsmanship and culinary art.

The spirit of Teotitlan is in its artisans, who every day give the world the gift of their exquisite art and a piece of Oaxacan culture. Their colors and their charm are jewels of this cultural patrimony, forming part of the mosaic of traditions and a piece of Mexico.

Good luck, friends!

*
Durante nuestra estancia en la ciudad de Oaxaca encontramos a una familia de tejeros de mantas y alfombras de Teotitlan. Ellos se nos acercaron de una forma muy curiosa para ofrecernos sus mercancias. Primero nos ofrecen sus productos a precios de introducción, luego nos rebajan este sin haber dicho si los queremos o no. Parece ser que ellos entienden que los precios estan conectados al deseo de comprar de los consumidores. Lo cierto es que en realidad estabamos buscando algo para decorar nuestra habitación el la Ciudad de Mexico. Las alfombras y mantas que ellos nos mostraban eran de un diseno y de un terminado exquisito.

Mexico tiene una excelente tradición de tejedores y artesanos que se remontan a la epoca pre-colombina. Estas a su vez son reconocidas en el mundo por su calidad y su elaborado artesanal. Los colores y motivos que ellas presentan son intrincados y complejos, pero a veces muy simples y exquisitos. Lo que resalta de todo este trabajo es que desde su confeccion hasta su terminado todo es hecho a mano y con componentes naturales. Cada pieza lleva semanas de labor desde su diseno y confeccion hasta su acabado. Entregando asi de esta manera un producto de absoluta belleza y calidad inigualable.

Los precios oscilan entre 900 hasta miles de pesos mexicanos, todo esto contando con su rebaja que es muy usual entre los vendedores. Las mantas y alfombras son de lana de oveja o borregos, sus tintes estan elaborados de raices, flores y frutas: granada, cafe, planta de anil y otras, como lo hicieron sus antepasados en siglos pasados. Su tecnica no ha cambiado mucho desde su comienzo.

Despues de una conversación con Constantino y su primo Orlando decidimos comprarles algunas mantas y alfombras, pero no alli, sino en su casa en una pequena villa donde ellos viven y trabajan en Teotitlan, a 25 minutos en auto y a una hora en camion: como ellos les llaman al transporte publico en Mexico.

La casa de Constantino y su familia esta construida de ladrillos y piso de tierra apisonada. No hay nada de lujo en sus paredes ni nada que denote una vida de prosperidad o de desahogo economico, pero tampoco de desesperacion. Es su espacio para vivir, criar a sus hijos, y trabajar. Alli crian sus aves, cerdos, ganado y sus gallinas blancas, verdes, amarillas y azules que se tinen sus plumas al pasar por las alfombras y mantas todavía humedas y puestas al sol para que se curen o sequen. “Son muy faciles de identificar en caso de robo o extravio”- les digo- en forma de broma y todos rien con gran animo y entusiasmo.

En su cocina rudimentaria de carbon y lena, Francisca, la madre de Constantino, cose su delicioso manjar de tortillas gigantes para la casa y para la venta, agregando asi una entrada economica para la famila. Su ayuda es bienvenida y util para todos. El trabajo es duro y constante, pero ellos lo hacen todos los dias de su vida. Para ellos no hay fin de semanas ni dias festivos.

En las calles de Oaxaca de lunes a sabado Constantino vende su mercancia. Los domingos el se va al otro mercado que queda cerca de su casa para vender el resto que no vendio durante la semana. Por otra parte su hermana, Reina Lopez, que vive y trabaja en una casita adyacente a la de el, confecciona bolsas de mujer. En su casita, Reina tiene un altar de la virgen de Guadalupe que domina el centro de la vivienda y en la esquina una vieja maquina de coser que es su maquinaria principal. Tambien estan estatuillas del Cristo crucificado, flores que sirven para ofrenda y al secarse sus hojas esta se usan para tenir las mantas y alfombras. En el altar ademas de mas estatuillas de la virgen hay fotos de la familia que fueron tomadas en el pasado muy lejano: “Esta es la foto de mi abuelo” –nos dice Constantino mientras nos senala la foto—“a el lo llamo Dios y se fue. El fue quien nos enseno a tejer.” Reina vive en un mar de lanas con montanas de tintes y carteras. A cada paso en su habitacion es como un recorrido entre un laberinto de bolsas ya terminadas, listas para vender, y recuerdos de familia.

El trabajo es intenso, arduo y coordinado, donde cooperacion y paciencia son centrales para sus trabajos. Por otra parte la religiosidad y la creencia juegan un papel central y muy importante en sus vidas diarias. La incertidumbre del manana los han golpeado varias veces: Si no hay lluvia, no hay pasto. Si no hay pasto, no hay ovejas. No hay maiz para hacer tortilllas, ni creceran las semillas con que tinen sus tejidos. Al parecer para ellos la naturaleza y Dios son una misma cosa. La mano humana es papel secundario. De la tierra viene todo lo que ellos consumen y venden. La tierra para ellos es la madre de todos, y el maiz un regalo de ella.

El olor a tortilla llena todo el aire del patio familiar que todos comparten, incluyendo su primo Orlando, su esposa, y sus dos hijas. Mas adelante se encuentra una pequena casa donde su otro primo se dedica a la confeccion de velas inmensas y llenas de colores. Estas son usadas en las iglesias de la villa para la misa del domingo y muy populares tambien entre los jóvenes que van a pedir la mano de la novia como es la tradiccion. Todas ellas estan hechas de cera de abejas y su olor a miel emana su perfume contaminando el aire con su dulzor.

Su trabajo comienza muy temprano en la manana y se extiende hasta muy entrada a la noche: Sacan a pastar a sus ovejas al romper el dia, se prepara el desayuno de tortillas para los ninos que parten para la escuela y se arreglan los bultos que estan destinados para la venta. “En la noche mientras vemos la television”-Reina nos dice- “las mujeres tejemos el hilo y preparamos el trabajo para el dia siguiente.” Su voz es afirmativa y lleva orgullo en su rostro. Podemos imaginar vivamente como es el dia a dia para Constantino y su familia. La lana, los tintes, las aves y la familia es centro de su universo. La vida es muy diferente aqui.

Nos comenta Constantino que-“ en la villa todos trabajan muy fuerte, pero hay que tener cuidado con declarar cuanto dinero has hecho o estas haciendo en tu negocio porque si haces mucho, la gente te envidian y no te dejan ir a vender.” No te dejan vender? –le pregunto con asombro- “No, si haces mucho mas dinero que los demas entonces te asignan un trabajo en la villa por un mes o mas para que los otros salgan a vender y puedan hacer tanto dinero como tu. Aqui la vida es asi. Aqui no tenemos partidos politicos ni nada de eso. Esa es la costumbre.”

La tarde esta cayendo y la familia se reune animada a conversar en su lengua Zapoteca alrededor de las cinco maquinas de hilar. Se ven muy animados y en muy buen espiritu. Hoy se hizo una buena venta. Cinco alfombras y dos bolsas para mujer. Su primo Orlando y su familia nos invitan muy timidamente a ver su coleccion de alfombras y mantas y su otro primo nos lleva a su taller de velas para hacernos una demostracion de su trabajo.

Ya es la hora de irnos cuando Francisca aparece con sus tortillas enormes y deliciosas y nos invita a comer. La comida o cena es simple: tortillas acompanadas de una salsa de chorizo y un refresco. Mujeres y ninos nos acompanan y nos describen los ingredientes de la salsa de chorizo cuando se enteran de mi interes por la cocina mexicana.Todos los ingredientes son naturales y hecho en casa. Deliciosa, simple y saludable es la cena. Una experiencia inolvidable para nosotros.

Los tejedores de Teotitlan atraves de Constantino y su familia nos han abierto sus puertas con mucho amor y humildad. Con nosotros han compartido sus tortillas y su alegria. Las mujeres con sus trajes tipicos multicolores nos hacen sentir especial y bien recibido. Nos llevamos con nosotros no solo sus mantas y su trabajo, sino tambien un milenio de artesania y arte culinario Azteca.

El espiritu de Teotitlan esta en sus artesanos que dia a dia le regalan al mundo con su exquisita artesania un pedacito de la cultura Oaxaquena. Sus colores y encanto son joyas del patrimonio humano y universal que en forma colectiva forman un mozaico de tradiciones y un pedacito de Mexico.

Mucha suerte amigos!

Post Office/Oficina Postal

Saturday, October 11th, 2008

Earlier this week, an article by Audrey Scott that I edited for the MatadorNetwork–”5 Things a Post Office Can Tell You About a Country“–was published on Brave New Traveler.

Audrey’s interesting article reminded me about a scene we witnessed in Mexico City a few weeks ago.

The Mexican postal system just changed its image, doing away with the staid blue and white of their offices and uniforms, replacing the colors with pink and green.

As delivery men and women made their way toward the Zocalo on their postal motorcycles, we got a few shots of them showing off all their new gear:

Psst. Want to hear a secret?

Friday, September 26th, 2008

Paris is NOT the city of love.

“Amor” may not be the first word that comes to mind when you think about Mexico City, but as I walk around my adopted hometown, I’m struck by how many people are in love… and how many people aren’t afraid to show it.

A Little Comic Relief/Alivio Comico

Friday, September 19th, 2008

Text & Video: Julie Schwietert Collazo
Photos & Translation: Francisco Collazo

[vease abajo para la version en espanol]

For the past few months I’ve been gathering material for long-term project that has the working title, “Buscando Un Guiso,” or “Looking for Work.” The premise of the project is simple: a photojournalistic essay about people who pick up odd jobs for a living.

I’ve collected photos of clowns who dance their way around cars stopped at red lights in Mexico City, itinerant vendors, shoeshine men, and all other kinds of hustlers and buskers.

But yesterday, while doing some shopping at Wal-Mart in Mexico City, I came across a new one: part-time temp dancer for the Alpura milk company. The dancers go from store to store, dressed in their Alpura-gear, and dance for hours in an effort to get customers to buy Alpura instead of, say, Lala.

Good thing we had the camera… those waxed Wal-Mart floors are great for splits:
*
En los ultimos meses, he estado colocando material para un proyecto de plazo largo que lleva el titulo tentativo, “Buscando Un Guiso.” El proposito del proyecto es sencillo: un ensayo fotografico sobre las personas que yo encuentro que trabajan de manera improvisada.

He tomado fotos de payasos bailando en el trafico en la Ciudad de Mexico, de vendedores ambulantes, limpiabotas, y todos tipos de jineteros.

Pero ayer, mientras hicimos compras en Wal-Mart en la Ciudad de Mexico, encontre un guiso nuevo: bailarin tiempo-parcial y temporareo para la lechera Alpura. Los bailarines pasan de una tienda a otra, vestidos en su ropa que lleva la marca Alpura, bailando horas para convencer la gente a comprar Alpura en vez de Lala.

Que bueno que llevabaos la camara con nosotros… los pisos resbalosos de Wal-Mart son buenisimos para los “splits”: