Into A Spiritual World….And Out Again
Alighting from the collectivo in front of the church in the village of San Juan Chamula is to enter a different world, higher still up the mountains from San Cristobal and deeper still into the world of the indigenous tribes of Chiapas.
This is the village we referred to in our previous post, the spiritual and material home of the tzotzil people and on first viewing alone is still clearly dominated by tradition; the village where ancient beliefs are still held by all, where tribal teachings merge effortlessly with modern society, and the village where Coca-Cola has infiltrated life to the point where it has religious and spiritual significance.
You might recall that in our last post we described the method of expelling evil spirits from the body: drink Coca-Cola, burp, and you are cleansed.
Tribal wisdom, mystical beliefs and esoteric religious ceremonies are deeply interwoven with Catholic principles, creating a unique strand of worship unlike anywhere else. One is permitted to enter the church – and we did, as you will see – for a small fee, but not during any kind of ceremony, which are affairs strictly for the eyes of the tzotzil only.
The secrecy surrounding those ceremonies has given rise to rumour and supposition, with some outsiders believing that animal sacrifices, particularly of chickens, not only take place within the church but on occasion are carried out by children.
Outside, in the village, almost everybody carries the distinctive facial features of the indigenous tribes, closely resembling the historical image of American Red Indians from the recognisable representations of years ago. Most are very short in height, and virtually all of the women dress in traditional clothing including the wiry, feathery looking black woollen skirts we’ve seen back in town. Every now and again we catch a glimpse of traditional male dress, too: shaggy white woollen cloaks or white shapeless shifts.
If they approach us to speak, or to try to sell their wares to us, they speak to us in Spanish, but to each other, their language is the tribal tongue, much more gutteral and sharp than its flowing European counterpart. Child labour is rife: young girls wander with armfuls of handicrafts for sale and run market stalls single handed, small lads work as shoeshine boys or push handcarts laden with produce.
Photography is difficult here, restricted to crafty zoom shots, this is one of those places where cameras are viewed with deep suspicion and where a stolen photograph is deemed to be a theft of the soul. Warnings are everywhere, not just in the guidebooks but also at the church door. No photos of individuals without permission (which is unlikely to be granted), no photos inside the church. Disobey at your peril, the insult goes much deeper than simple offence.
And so we enter this unique church with all of its tales of mystery and intrigue, to be confronted by nothing we’ve ever witnessed before. The interior, beautifully decorated on its walls and ceilings, is devoid of pews and benches, just a wide open space with no furniture of any kind, the whole area lit only by candles and nothing more.
But there are literally thousands of candles, amassed on the floor in straight lines and symmetrical patterns, all the time being added to by worshippers kneeling on the floor either alone or in groups, sometimes in families, lighting more and more candles as they quietly vocalise their ritual chants. Beneath them, and beneath us, the floor is covered with a layer of pine needles. The darkness is filled with the aroma of scented candles, incense and pine.
Those chanting, whether alone or otherwise, are distant, disengaged, as if lost in a trance while praying. The murmuring of quiet chants, the dim light, the flickering of a thousand candles, the scent in the air….this is something transcendental, something deep and stirring. There is almost a physical presence in the spaces, something tangible about the atmosphere. Our spines tingle. Neither of us have ever felt anything quite like this before.
What is this? What are we feeling? It’s as if there is something bigger, so much bigger than us, lurking in this dimly lit space. All five senses are being challenged at once, maybe even a sixth sense which we don’t know about. It feels…..spiritual.
And then Michaela taps my arm and gestures towards one lady lost in her trance, chanting with her eyes tightly shut, kneeling before her orderly lines of candles. As she chants, she reaches a certain point of her private ceremony, carefully lifting an object and passing it slowly over the candles….. it’s a full bottle of Coca-Cola.
They weren’t kidding when they said that visiting here would be a new experience. This is a very different church. San Juan Chamula is a very different kind of place.
What brings us back to reality is the rain. We’ve seen plenty of downpours since arriving in Mexico but now San Cristobal delivers the first long period of sustained deluge, through late afternoon and well into the night, forcing us to invest in an umbrella and dart between shop overhangs in order to grab a bite to eat. We don’t go far.
Chamula’s neighbouring village of Zinacantan is nowhere near as mysterious or beguiling, and in truth is nowhere near as interesting either. Although Zinacantan is renowned for its weaving, most of it completed by women’s co-operative movements, we must have called in on “weavers’ day off” because we see none in action, just a smattering of woven products on market stalls.
Its church, like the village itself, is a toned down version of Chamula – still open and devoid of furniture, and completely bedecked in a stunning floral display, but with far fewer candles, no pine needles or incense, and with artificial light. Oh, and you can take photographs; photographs which may give a vague idea of what Chamula was like, if you can stretch the imagination far enough.
To be fair, Zinacantan is sweeping up after a fiesta (one that we missed!) so we may just have caught it on the wrong day, just as everyone is either clearing the streets or clearing their head. Or both. Whatever, it’s a sleepy place on this Friday lunchtime.
Storm clouds gather over the mountains as we head back to San Cristobal, and before long the roads are once again turned into flowing torrents. Earlier this year in Costa Rica, we were lucky with a whole run of clear sunny days in a rainforest location where bright days are uncommon: maybe it’s payback time.
We will leave San Cristobal with so many impressions and memories: colour, food, tribespeople….and rain. But that visit to San Juan Chamula and its church….well, that memory will never leave us. Amazing.
21 Comments
Lookoom
What a strange experience, certainly disturbing for our rationality. Isn’t Coca-Cola originally a medicine, there is a kind of return to the roots, beyond the commercial drink.
Phil & Michaela
I think I remember reading that it was intended to be a hangover cure but I don’t know if that’s true. It was certainly an odd place.
Alison
Seems like you have stepped back in time. What a strange village, good job you didn’t stay overnight! Such beautiful colours though
Phil & Michaela
It is a very odd place, detached from society (reality?) and yet still living in the modern world in an “ordinary” way. Very strange.
Monkey's Tale
Well it makes a great story! But strange place 😊
Phil & Michaela
Very strange!
Suzanne@PictureRetirement
The obsession with Coke is so strange. I wonder if those shaggy cloaks have a significance within the tribe? They are striking and the men look very dignified. Why wear them in summer? Pine straw floors with incense burning – yikes! Strange place indeed. Thanks for all the entertaining cultural lessons/curiosities within this post.
Phil & Michaela
One of the strangest places we’ve been to, and we’ve been to some strange ones! Yes the cloaks are significant, only worn by the superior tribesmen – and there is a hierarchy which dictates whether they wear black or white. Thank you so much for commenting, it is always very much appreciated.
Mike and Kellye Hefner
Wow! We both loved this post. We just can’t imagine believing that Coke has any kind of soul cleansing powers. It seems like everyone’s teeth would be rotting! Loved your description of the woman waving her Coke over the candles. We can just imagine the looks on your faces. We’re learning a lot from your posts and look forward to the next ones.
Phil & Michaela
Thanks guys, it is a very strange little place, but one of those places which is so different that it’s kind of the reason we travel – to see and experience things which are ….well….different.
Toonsarah
Visiting that church was clearly one of those experiences we travel for, the ones that will stay lodged in the memory forever – not just what you saw but how you felt. Very special, although the coke bottle seems a strange addition to the ceremony. It reminds me a little of when we visited the idol of Santiago Atitlàn in Guatemala, Maximón, Have you been there? He’s a very worldly idol, partial to cigarettes and rum!
Phil & Michaela
No not to that one but yes you’re dead right…definitely one of those travel moments. Neither of us would ever consider ourselves to be spiritual but there was something about that place and it felt powerful
Toonsarah
You should add the Atitlàn area to your list, if it isn’t on it already – you would love it I’m sure!
Phil & Michaela
Not due on this trip but anything is possible now the the world is nearly completely open again!
wetanddustyroads
That Coca-Cola bottle in the church caught me a bit off guard! What an interesting and strange place (I had some chills while reading your post) …
Phil & Michaela
The obsession with Coca Cola is really weird….especially the burping bit!
WanderingCanadians
I couldn’t help but laugh at how the chanting lady drank a bottle of Coca-Cola during the ceremony. I don’t get its significance with religion, but hey, it makes for a funny story!
Phil & Michaela
And weird….!
leightontravels
Coca Cola, how odd! I’ve long been fascinated with Mexican religious cults, interpretations and devotion, reading little snippets here and there. That church experience is truly something memorable and as was said before on this thread, the kind of experience that propels us to travel in the first place. One that changes our perception about the place and its people. Certainly makes us think about pushing Mexico to the top of our 2023 list.
Phil & Michaela
Yes exactly, these experiences are just fabulous. It’s definitely worth travelling around if you do come here, there are interesting differences region to region.
mochatruffalo
The description of the goings-on inside the Chamula church sounds like something straight out of a Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child book. Loved it 😍