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?

Postcard from Oaxaca, Mexico: Visiting a suburb of Monte Alban – Atzompa

Our cab pulling into the parking lot immediately below the ruins of Atzompa made a total of four cars. Not much of a crowd for the high season of tourism in Oaxaca, but, for some reason, the Zapotec ruins of Atzompa are not yet included on the visitor map handed out at the information booth in front of the Cathedral. Guidebooks are only now catching up with the opening of the site to the public two or so years ago.

As a result, venturing there reminded us of the first time we climbed a winding road to Monte Alban more than 30 years ago; we virtually had the entire site to ourselves. An archaeologist and helpers were working on the uppermost plaza of Atzompa, where photography currently is forbidden.

With construction begun around the year 650, Atzompa was a satellite suburb of Monte Alban. Its equally lofty location with commanding views stretching across both the valley of Oaxaca and that of Etla offered additional security for Monte Alban.

In addition to ceremonial ball courts, including the largest one found in the region of Monte Alban, the site has remains of residential quarters for members of the upper class. The terraced hillside created an opportunity for several intimate groupings of buildings around central plazas and courtyards. A quarry atop the hill provided a convenient supply of building materials.

Evidence suggests the city was abandoned around the year 900.

Atzompa is a mere 20 minutes by cab from the center of Oaxaca. The posted entry fee is 10 pesos, well under a single dollar. But the guard at the gate required only our names, no pesos.

Postcard from Oaxaca, Mexico: Bite the baby; throw the party

three-kingsThe pair of skinny Santas on stilts (I know; I don’t comprehend their significance either.) who roamed the plaza in front of the Cathedral around Christmas have been replaced by itinerant trios of kings soliciting tips for family photos. This troupe was the only one around bearing gifts for Baby Jesus accompanied by the beasts (well, sort of) originally transporting them to the manger in Bethlehem on January 6.

Epiphany was always a holy day of obligation when I was growing up, another command day at church which fell within several weeks of a multitude of visits to church. But we weren’t rewarded with cake.

In Mexico, Saint Nicholas traditionally does not arrive bearing gifts for children on Jesus’ birthday. Children have to wait until the day Jesus received his presents – gold, frankincense and myrrh – delivered in tribute to him by the three kings. So, on January 6 in Mexico, Mass is followed by presents and a party with cake – rosca de reyes.

Shannon Costello's rosca de reyes
Shannon Costello’s rosca de reyes

The staff at the Library of the University of Texas at San Antonio has translated, along with helpful baking tips, a traditional kings’ cake recipe from Panes de Levadura by Josefina Velazquez de Leon, part of the collection of Mexican cookbooks, La Cocina Historica.

Not everyone in Oaxaca appears to make these from scratch. Boxes of the rings of cake have been flying off shelves in bakeries all over town.

Hidden inside each is a little figure representing Baby Jesus. If the piece you receive contains the nino, your family has to host the next fiesta specifically for Jesus on the calendar, Candelaria on February 2, or prepare the homemade tamales for the party (Whoa! I prefer the no-strings-attached prize in Cracker Jacks).

Candelaria is when all the Baby Jesuses housed by the faithful in their homes receive new clothes. Then, dressed in appropriate finery, all the little statues are carried to church to be blessed.

Hmmm. What should Jesus wear? Is Oaxaca ready to follow the fashion trends being set in San Cristobal de las Casas? Happy Kings’ Day.

And, if the kings have any gifts in mind for me, of the ancient trio, I’d prefer the gold.