Valentine´s Day Sacrifice

I´ve never been a fan of Valentine´s Day. Honestly, I don´t really think I know anyone who is, and as it approaches, I start dreading it for no real reason. Which is unfortunate, because in theory of course, a day celebrating love is a good thing. Maybe it´s the idea that people are giving fully grown adults teddy bears. Anyways, this year, I forgot all about it, and then, as I was rushing to Spanish class, I started looking around and noticed that the whole town was decorated for Valentine´s Day. Everyone was wearing red, as apparently, if you do, you´ll have a year of good luck in your love life. Cheers for my little red Pumas. The teachers at our school gave us little heart shaped Jello pieces, and little kids were running around with heart shaped balloons all day. There were pink cupcakes, paper flowers in all of the doorways, and decorations everywhere. Maybe there was an aspect of commercialization, but mostly it just felt like love was in the air. I noticed that it wasn´t just about couples or romantic love, but about families and children as well. Last night, there were a billion people out. The streets were just thronged, and in the main square, there was a band set up, with people dancing and gratis spiced wine being given out. All in all just this great merriment overtook the town. I felt very lucky to be part of it.


Earlier in the day, I went with this (slightly odd) German guy to a town called Chamula, about 20 minutes outside of town. There are tons of people from Chamula in San Cristobal, selling lots of traditional crafts from restaurant to resturant and at the stalls. We took a collectivo up into this small village, where there is a big central market, but the big reason people go there is to visit the church. Louise went separately that day, and after getting back together that night, she filled me in on some details from her guide. So, just walking up to the church you can see it´s different, with bright blue, turquoise and gold detailing surrounding the door and the front of the church. When you step inside, the first thing you can´t help but notice is the, literally, thousands of candles burning everywhere, stuck all over the floor, in glasses and every kind of jar. The actual church looks a lot like most Mexican Catholic churches I´ve been to, with the odd plastic figures of various bleeding saints in their cases, fake flowers adorning them, and gold vases scattered around. Apparently most people think that the religion practiced here is a mix of Catholicism and the Mayan religion, but from what I understand, it is much more of an ancient Mayan tradition that happens to be practiced in a Catholic church. They have some feelings for a couple of saints, but for the most part, this is old stuff that goes way back. The second thing you also can´t help but notice is the deliciously overwhelming smell of large, fragrant needles of some kind of pine tree, that cover the marble floor. The church has no pews, only a large expanse of floor surrounded by all of the various saints. Groups of people each gather in spots around the edges of the church, and some in the middle. The third thing you can´t help but notice, and would have noticed first, if the other two sensory aspects weren´t so overwhelming, is that most groups of people have chickens with them, and they are either dead and laid beside their candles, or held by a member of the party, clucking in what, in my head, must be a terrified way, as they wait their turn. Upon arriving, people take out their little packet they have brought with them, each with somewhere between maybe 100-200 small, very thin candles. They take a candle from one of the millions burning all around the church, and then with amazing efficiency, quickly set about dipping the ends and sticking them to the marble floor, so the candles are laid out in neat rows in front of them. They light the candles and then kneel down in front of them and begin to chant, until they´re all gone. The chanting is completely mesmerizing, in this low, beautiful voice that doesn´t stop and doesn´t seem to break until all of the candles have gone out. I stood behind one group of people, and I felt like I was in a trance listening to this woman´s voice. It was really beautiful. John would have loved it. When the last candle goes out, they pick up the chicken by the feet and then kind of swing it around the top of the candles, gesturing with the chicken and, from what I understand, asking for what they need. Then they kill the chicken, at which point I almost passed out, and then felt like a big baby for being so squeamish. I obviously knew it was coming, yet somehow it still made my stomach flip in a horrible way. The chicken is laid to the side and some more chanting is done, and then they gather their things together. It was *so* different from anything I have seen before, and it was interesting to look around at the groups of people who were there. Many were older people who were in pretty traditional dress, but seated next to them was a kid that looked very modern in his jeans and hip t-shirt, holding the chicken that was about to be sacrificed. Louise´s guide said that this group of people believe they are the third Mayan generation, the other ones having been killed by the gods because they didn´t give them gifts. Obviously, this generation is trying to make up for that.

I left feeling slightly crazy, mostly after listening to this woman chant, but of course the chicken sacrifice had something to do with it as well. In a way it felt like intruding on something that seemed so sacred, maybe because death was involved. Yet at the same time, it´s just a part of things, in an area where death isn´t something that is so far off, but instead part of life. It certainly is different than the organic meat counter at New Seasons, and asking for my basil chicken sausage wrapped up in clean brown paper....

I´m off for an appointment with my second part of my old man obsession of the week, and having coffee with the most adorable Mexican man named Raphael. I met him earlier this week while having coffee with this girl, and he´s a sociologist who has been interviewing and recording stories with people from villages all over Chiapas for twenty years. The more opportunities I have to learn about it here, the more interesting this area is to me...

Happy love wishes to everyone, and a belated Happy Valentine´s Day.

Besos,

Kira