La Guelaguetza

Generosity is giving more than you can, and pride is taking less than you need.

-- Khalil Gibran

La Guelaguetza 2018 poster

A happy coincidence of the timing of our move to Mexico was that we would arrive in time for La Guelaguetza, the máxima fiesta of Oaxaca that is celebrated annually in all parts of the state, from the largest city (Oaxaca de Juárez) to the tiniest pueblo. While much of the attention, understandably, is paid to the performance of rigorous traditional dances, at the heart of the celebration is the idea of giving—in fact, “guelaguetza” is a word of Zapotec origin meaning, essentially, “to give.” In this tradition, as delegations from outer areas congregate in a central town, they bring gifts specific to their region for distribution to the audience after each performance.

Similar to the native potlatch traditions of the Pacific Northwest, this annual gathering of far-flung peoples helps strengthen old connections, repair bruised relationships, and generally remind everyone that we’re all in this together.

A calenda passes through a side street of the city.

In Oaxaca de Juárez (our fair city), this festival with ancient roots has grown to outsized proportions thanks to modern tourism marketing. The run-up to the festival lasts for weeks now, with street parades (known as calendas) occurring in the Centro with increasing frequency and exuberance as the countdown builds to the dance extravaganza itself. These calendas seem to spring up out of nowhere, and usually feature men and women in traditional garb (the women often sporting elaborate and impossibly large headgear) marching and dancing to the music of one or more raucous brass bands; huge spinning globes of wood and fabric bearing the name of the community sponsoring the calenda; and 10’ tall puppets depicting characters from Mexican or Latin American history (we could always easily pick out Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera, Fidel Castro and Che Guevara; other characters not so much). On occasion there are stilt-walkers performing death-defying dance steps on the cobbled streets. And there are always, ALWAYS, fireworks: exploding rockets, whistling bombs, spinning pyrotechnics and more—lending an aspect of a free-fire battle zone to the entire proceeding. These are gleeful celebrations, typically accompanied by basketsful of goodies—candies, bread, straw hats, even whole pineapples—being flung to the enthusiastic throngs lining the streets. After all, it’s all about the giving.

In recent years, the festival month of La Guelaguetza has been augmented by an assortment of smaller fairs: a Mole Festival (celebrating Oaxaca’s signature sauces); a Mezcal Festival (celebrating their signature distillate); an Artisan Festival (with dozens of stalls featuring handicrafts from every part of the state); plus dozens of special concerts, exhibitions and performances in venues throughout the old Centro. Large stages are erected in several of the city’s squares and plazas, from which bands both traditional and modern hold forth, loudly and at all hours.

This overstuffed calendar of events and attractions now lures an enormous number of visitors to Oaxaca in July, most of them from other parts of Mexico.

They are easy to spot, these visitors: generally taller, paler and more fashionable, sporting designer hats, sunglasses and well-accessorized kids. Many have driven the 7-or-so hours south from Mexico City, eager to soak up one of their nation’s most colorful traditions. 

Desfile de las Delegaciones, or Parade of the Delegations from the 8 regions of Oaxaca.

It all leads up to the grand spectacle itself: La Guelaguetza, a 3-hour extravaganza of music, dance, candy-colored costumes and unabashed oaxaqueño pride. This performance is presented a total of 4 times—twice a day, morning and evening, on the last two Mondays of the month—in a capacious and beautiful amphitheater high on the slopes of Cerro del Fortín, a large hill that overlooks the city, its valleys and the mountains beyond. The Guelaguetza Auditorio, as it is called, is made of concrete, and until very recently was notorious for its efficiency as a solar oven during daytime performances. Event organizers have since erected a modern, stretched-fabric roof over the amphitheater that protects nearly all spectators from the brutal sun (and occasional rain). Still, everyone who attends is given a free straw hat.

For me, the evening performance of La Guelaguetza that we attended exceeded expectations. It’s hard to imagine a similar type of celebration taking place anywhere in the U.S., one that showcases traditions that in some cases predate the Conquest. The Merrie Monarch Festival, an annual hula competition and arts fair in the Hawaiian Islands, comes to mind. Like La Guelaguetza, it is a celebration and reaffirmation of ancient and modern cultural practices. But La Guelaguetza isn’t a competition—it’s a gift to all who participate and observe, and everyone comes out a winner.

The finale of Guelaguetza 2018.