Holy Cards from Oaxaca: The magical burro delivered parts of the patron saint

As the man from the countryside drove his pack mules down the dusty street in Oaxaca in the year 1620, one dropped to its knees. There, in front of the church of Saint Sebastian.

But, wait, this was not one of his burros. It was a volunteer laden with a heavy chest. The burro refused to budge, rolling over dead, knocking open the chest to reveal its contents. The hands and beautifully carved face of the Virgin Mary appeared. Surely a miracle.

A church would have to be built here. And it was. A grand church now known as the Basilica de La Virgen de la Soledad.

And the Virgin was cloaked in splendor, her garment designed to conceal her lack of corporal substance.

Many who have prayed to the Virgen de la Soledad through the centuries since credit her with miraculous cures. In the belief that she, the patron saint of Oaxaca, protects them, mariners would trek from the coast on foot to bring her tributes of pearls and gold.

When the Constitution of 1857 authorized confiscation of the church’s assets, her bejeweled garments and tributes were spirited away by some of her faithful. The tattered remnants of her gown, gems intact, were rediscovered by a merchant remodeling his shop in 1888. He ordered the finest velvet from France to present to the nuns who stitched the jewels back into the luxurious garment that is her hallmark.

The Feast Day of La Virgen de las Soledad on December 18 is one of Oaxaca’s most important celebrations. We never were able to determine at what hour she arrived by float paraded through the streets, perhaps midnight? A few spent fireworks littered the stones the next day. We found her enthroned in a corner of the Basilica’s plaza on her day, the faithful filing by to lay floral tributes before her.

In addition to the behemoth Basilica built in her honor, a smaller plaza in front of the church always beckons – the ice cream plaza, properly known as Plaza Socrates. Stalls of vendors of imaginative flavors of ice cream – such as rosa or aguacate – competitively beckon families to sit at their tables for some of the best people-watching in the city. Marimba minstrels generally set up in the middle of the neverias.

A plaza full of ice cream makes Socrates seem a wise man indeed.

Postcard from Tlacolula de Matamoras, Oaxaca, Mexico: So many saints lost their heads….

Generally, statues of saints lining the walls in churches are robed modestly and depicted holding the iconic symbols associated with their lives, but a Baroque side chapel in the Church of La Asuncion de Nuestra Senora in the bustling city of Tlacolula de Matamoras does not cloak saintly sacrifices. The beautifully restored Dominican church dates from the middle of the 16th century.

The walls and ceilings of the chapel dedicated to El Senor of Tlacolula, a “black Christ” credited with performing miracles, are covered with gilded sculptural reliefs graphically illustrating the violent ends to the lives of numerous saints. Bloody wounds and severed heads testify to the gruesome suffering the martyrs endured for their faith.

Dim lighting and flash restrictions hindered our efforts to share the unusual portrayals, save for soft images of a severely gouged San Judas Thadeo enthroned behind Jesus astride a burro and poor decapitated San Pablo.

Postcard from Tlacochahuaya, Oaxaca, Mexico: The temple of the patron saint of librarians

Having heard about the ornate ceiling of the Templo of San Jeronimo in the small town of Tlacochahuaya, we tried to scare up a priest to unlock its doors more than 20 years ago. No luck.

Since its 1991 restoration, gaining admittance is no longer an issue – ten pesos at the door.

Construction of the stunning Dominican church and its relatively modest convent dedicated to Saint Jerome, the well-read patron saint of librarians, was begun in 1586 atop Zapotec ruins. Zapotec bats carved into the base of some of the gilded columns are among the few symbols slipped into the church by the priests’ indigenous helpers.

A magical organ, supposedly with a stop that mimics the sound of songbirds, was added to a new choir loft around 1725.

One of the traditional seven-pointed star piñatas was suspended in the middle of the courtyard of the ex-convent0, but this one bore banners dangling from each point. Our driver said those listed what are known as the seven deadly sins, including envy, gluttony and sloth. When the blindfolded (the blindfold symbolizing faith) batter shatters it on the first of the year, those temptations are knocked out of the forecast for the coming year. The goodies spilling out of the piñata represent bestowal of blessings of heaven.

Not sure what it means that these particular temptations remained intact even after Three Kings’ Day. A temptation-filled year ahead for residents of Tlacochahuaya?