Where two souls heal
Introduction: presentation of the animite
The body goes, the soul remains
Image 1. Catalina's Little Animation
Lili Almási-Szabó and David Arturo Espinoza
Compañía de Jesús Street, downtown Santiago, Santiago de Chile.
December, 2024.
“Look, when someone dies in an accident, all that's left is their body. His soul still has no place in heaven. He stays here on Earth. He clings to where he left the body. That's why we're building him a house so he can live there.”.
Ernesto, 56 years old, Chillán (2015)
Image 2. Animita del Virola
David Arturo Espinoza
Chacabuco Street, Estación Central, Santiago, Chile.
July, 2025.
“At the place where an accident occurred it is good to put something, a plaque, a little cross, a memorial. Better than in the cemetery. Because there is only the body there. But where the accident occurred, the soul is there [...] A little church has a reason for being. Someone died there. And in what conditions he died, if he was a good person, a bad person, if it was tragic or not tragic, and the price that death has for the family [...] We raise a little memorial to that injustice that he died”.
Javier, 51 years old, Santiago (2016)
Animita in the neighborhood of Lo Franco.
Santiago Urzúa.
Quinta Normal, Santiago de Chile.
July, 2024.
“Chile is a tremendously legalistic country. If something is not written in the Roman code, carved in stone, it is not valid, it does not exist [...] But this is not the case here. Here there is a right acquired by the mere fact of being an affected family, a victim of a tragic death. It is not written in any law, but it is an acquired right [...] The animitas, like many other things in Chile, are sustained only thanks to voluntarism, as happens, for example, with the firemen [...] Due to a matter of respect, legality tends to be diluted in terms of its rigidity or its capacity to impose itself physically”.
Pablo, fiscal inspector of the Ministry of Public Works (2025)
Animite as a warning
Animita in a busy avenue.
Belén Miranda Osses
Pajaritos Avenue, Maipú, Metropolitan Region, Chile.
January, 2023.
“The animitas are not a phenomenon, they are a reality. They are there, in those places, because that is where things happen [...] The animita warns you that it is a dangerous curve or that the slope is risky. Look, it is full of animitas [...] Throughout Chile this is almost an obligatory comment: ‘Look out there, where there are so many animitas’. It was an accident, and an accident does not happen in just any passageway; it happens in dangerous places, in sectors far from the urban radius. The topography, the weather, the dangerousness of the road, the fog, the camanchaca, the heavy rain or other risks have an influence [...] An ”animita" is more important than a sign for those who drive there, more than a speed sign. Because a sign -a stop sign, for example- is only a warning. An animita, on the other hand, is the sign that [something happened here]".
Image 5. Untitled
Lili Almási-Szabó
Chillán, Chile.
September, 2016.
“The roads are dangerous because people drive tired and stressed. That's also why the animitas are built. They leave in a hurry for work, because they have to be there on time. And on the way back, they leave work late, they're already tired, hungry, and they can't concentrate. Sometimes it's enough to be in a bad mood. A fight, for example. Since my younger brother died, I take special care not to drive when I'm too exhausted. But still, unfortunately, you have to get in the car. Work is work [work is work]. Sometimes it even happens to me that, while driving, I blink slower than normal. That's when I get scared.
Jaime, 55 years old, Quilicura (2017).
Image 6. Animitas on Route 5.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Between Chillán and Santiago, Chile.
March, 2016.
“Route 5 is a long and narrow coffin. Chile is the world champion of animitas. Although it is debated whether the origin of the tradition is European or pre-colonial, one thing is certain: no country has more animitas than Chile.”.
Pumarino, The Latest News, Transportation Fair (2012)
Image 7. Untitled.
Belén Miranda Osses.
Esquina Blanca Av. with Segunda Transversal Av., Maipú, Metropolitan Region, Chile.
November 2022.
“On urban routes there are two important phenomena to highlight. First, the animitas appear more in the popular and middle sectors, and not in the higher strata. I don't know if this is due to beliefs or other factors. Second, I would say that practically all of them -or at least an important percentage- are related to traffic accidents, mainly of cyclists. There is something quite striking there. The animita is usually associated with sudden deaths, with situations with which the relatives are not happy. On the other hand, when there has been a death as a result of a careless hit-and-run, an animita is not generated; for example, when someone crosses the highway in a reckless manner”.
Rodrigo, fiscal inspector of the Ministry of Public Works (2025)
Image 8. Animita de Diego.
David Arturo Espinoza
Carretera Austral with Puelche River, Puerto Montt, Chile.
January, 2025.
At the intersection of the Puelche River and the Austral Highway is Diego's animita. I was exploring animitas in Puerto during the summer, and I also met several in Santiago and Valparaíso, but Diego's is the first one that emulates a motorcycle. There are bicycles, but motorcycles? Only his, as far as I know. I got to a street before the animita, and before crossing to it, several cars passed by, which gave me time to think. From where I was, it looked like a motorcycle stopped in the street. I mean: I could tell it was made of tires, but the silhouette fit perfectly with the road from my perspective. I thought it was like seeing a ghost, but not in the “Boo!” sense that wants to scare you, but more like the echo of something that happened and is now trying to tell people: ‘Be careful!.
Miraculous animitas
Maria Marquez, Nercon, Nercon
Image 9. Animita by María Márquez.
Pedro Pablo Medina
Route 5, Nercón, Chiloé, Chile.
January, 2025.
“All my life I have seen my traveling or walking companions cross themselves as they pass near it. The animita of Nercon, Maria Marquez, watches over the road and its walkers. Next to a bridge, in front of the sea, and the estuary where she met her death. She is there, grants favors, and allows sharing. Few are those who do not know of her, her presence is significant and a nearby street is named after her. She has been with us, or perhaps we have been with her, for nearly 100 years.
Pedro Pablo Medina, observation story (2025)
Image 10. Animita by María Márquez.
Pedro Pablo Medina
Route 5, Nercón, Chiloé, Chile.
January, 2025.
“They say that a hundred years ago
A little girl died
/:His soul went to heaven
Next to the creator:/
All the people venerate you
As a beautiful tradition
/:And I pay homage to you
Animita de Nercón:/
Miraculous animita
Sweet veneration
/:All people honor you
With prayers and prayer:/”.
Excerpt “Homage to animita Márquez”, Marco Bastidas Cárcamo (2019)
Fortuoso, Puerto Montt, Puerto Montt, Chile
Image 11. Animita de Fortuoso.
David Arturo Espinoza.
Las Quemas Street, Puerto Montt, Chile.
January, 2025.
“My, oh, my, love!
Back in the twenties
There was a violent death,
Miraculous little cheerleader.
Boy, did they kill
They killed a farmer,
Who will die a violent death
Miraculous little cheerleader.
Alas, his name was Fortuoso,
Boy, it's still going strong.
On Las Quemas road
A lot of people go there,
Miraculous animita
His name was Fortuoso,
It is still in force,
Miraculous little cheerleader.
To many people, oh yes!
By golly, he has delivered.
And you can find your badge
Grateful,
Miraculous little cheerleader.
The anima Fortuoso,
Gee, I'm respectful.”.
Cueca Fortuoso Soto - Mario Cárdenas with Los Piolitas Cueca Brava
Image 12. Animita de Fortuoso.
David Arturo Espinoza.
Las Quemas Street, Puerto Montt, Chile.
January, 2025.
“[...] Also, there is an important percentage [of animitas] that are lost in time, while others are maintained until eternity”.
Luis, fiscal inspector of the Ministry of Public Works (2025)
Romualdito's animita
Image 13. Animita de Romualdito.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Estación Central, Santiago de Chile.
January 2017.
“The children who pass by Romualdito point their fingers and ask aloud: ‘Mom, what's this?’ The answer: ‘It's Romualdito, see, he's a little saint! Say hello to him!’ Another mother, smiling, says to her little daughter, about a year old, who looks at her with her big eyes while in her arms: ‘Look! There's Romualdito! Bye, Romualdito!’. Surely they have passed that way several times. The woman slows down, but does not stop. They walk slowly. She holds up her daughter's hand, waiting for her to start wiggling her little fingers. Finally, the girl waves, and the duo disappears between the houses.”.
Lili Almási-Szabó, field diary (2017).
Image 14. Animita de Romualdito.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Estación Central, Santiago de Chile.
January 2017.
“Well, here [in this country] we believe in miracles. Where can this departed soul be now? Only he or God knows, we don't. Maybe he is resting, or maybe he is in heaven. I cannot tell you that, daughter. If this person died with Jesus, then he is now sleeping. If he died in sin, maybe he is in a lake of fire, or an angel or a bird will pick him up and take him to heaven. That I do not know. It is the faith and the requests of the people that move these beings. Look, here are the gifts, the messages. You have to say, ‘Look, Romualdito, I bring you a package of candles, a small gift, a plaque. You see?'” The gentleman pointed to a plaque of gratitude on which it said: “Thank you for favor granted” [...] “If you come here and ask for work, because you want to do this and that, you have to fulfill [the soul]”.
Letter to Romualdito's animita.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Estación Central, Santiago de Chile.
January 2017.
Astrid's animita, the Beautiful Girl
Image 16. “La Niña Hermosa”, Animita by Astrid Soto.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Km 22 of route 78, Santiago de Chile.
2023.
“I had a case on Route 78. There was a little girl, the Niña Hermosa. Her name was Astrid Soto. Her accident occurred in 1998. It was a very complex place, and it was better to change the roadway [...] The project contemplated making a structured memorial with parking, vehicular access and exit, with a roof, pavements, a little landscaping and lighting. And there was the dilemma of how to move the animita, because it is one thing to take the stuffed animals, but the dead person was on the other side. So it is not the same, in terms of affectivity. The conversations with the family went very well, and to solve the problem, a medium was hired. The medium indicated that Astrid was in favor of the change of location”.
Image 17. “La Niña Hermosa”, Animita by Astrid Soto.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Km 22 of route 78, Santiago de Chile.
2023.
“My Beautiful Child, my Miraculous Child, my Majestic Child, today I come to visit you to thank you for your favor granted, to thank you for your presence in my life and the infinite help and blessings that you have given to my life to be able to achieve and make each of my requests come true. Astrid, thank you for accompanying me, taking care of me and protecting me in this journey so important to me, thank you for allowing me to do everything right. Please, I ask you to help me so that everything continues to go well with the issue of my licenses and reinstatements of the same, I ask you for the sales of the store and, well, you know that every dream and project I have in mind can go well and prosper. I ask you to achieve my prosperity and tranquility both physically, emotionally and economically. For the welfare of my family and all my loved ones”.
Animita in everyday space
Everyday encounters
Image 18. Untitled.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Clave Street, Barrio Puerto, Valparaíso, Chile.
October, 2024.
“Next to a little shop hidden at the foot of the hills of Valparaíso, right on the corner where the street narrows and almost gets lost among the tightly packed houses, there is a tiny, old, but well-kept anima. The sun has already faded its color. But it always has some flowers, as if someone takes care of it every day to leave it some love. From there, she seems to watch over those who go in and out to buy warm bread for breakfast or lunch, like a kind of silent guardian of the neighborhood. No one looks at her much, but everyone -even the stray dogs- respects her. They don't lift their paws like they do with the posts and walls. Some neighbors leave her a coin, others lower their heads as they pass, as if they know that this presence watches, observes, and accompanies”.
Image 19. Animita de Clemente
Santiago Urzúa
Curro Bridge, Carol Urzúa traffic circle, Vitacura, Santiago de Chile.
July, 2023.
“At the edge of the Mapocho River, just where the cyclists turn after crossing the bridge, there is a little animita unlike any other. It has no bars, no glass, no cement structure. It is an animita built of only potted plants. As if someone had been leaving them one by one, to shape an altar over time. Among the gray dust of the road, the dryness of the river, the green plants of the altar steal the attention. This place invites cyclists to stop and sit for a few minutes on its wooden benches to rest. Those who stop can admire the landscape, the faded photos of the altar, and young Clemente's collection of stones and small plants”.
Lili Almási-Szabó, observation story (2025)
Image 20. Animita by Mauricio Araya
Lili Almási-Szabó
Route 5, La Higuera, Coquimbo, Chile.
October 2025.
“In the north they are bigger and have a symbolic meaning, more around the history they have. Some of them are mansions [...] There the truckers honk their horns [...] You see there the little animitas in the middle of the desert. For example, it is common to find water bottles left by the truckers who stop there, because of the story of the Difunta Correa”.
Emilia, Ministry of Public Works official (2025)
Image 21. Untitled.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Lantaño Park Road, Chillán, Chile.
September, 2015.
“Here, in the south, contact with the animitas is much more integrated into daily life. It is more related to power, to granting what one needs, for example, sick people, something magical [...] In the construction sites, the local workers, who are more directly linked to the [physical] work with the animita, show a total commitment. Many of them, in addition, sometimes know the mourners or know the story of what happened in the accident [...] According to the traditions, if someone takes something out of there, it is as if ‘the pains of hell’ fall on them. Seriously, there's a lot of respect for that. Anyone could take those things -walkers or people passing through the sector-, but they don't do it. It all stays there.
Manuel, tax inspector for the Ministry of Public Works (2025)
Claiming space
Image 22. Animita de Óscar
David Arturo Espinoza.
Carretera Austral, Puerto Montt, Chile.
January, 2025.
“Death can happen anywhere. That is why it cannot be regulated. Because death passes over everything, and over every written rule.”.
Javier, 51 years old (2025)
Image 23. Animita at construction site.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Cristobal Colon Av. with Zapaleri, Las Condes, Santiago de Chile.
December, 2017.
“I am also a good believer. I know that these places are very important for people, because it is where we can connect with our departed loved ones. The animita is that place where heaven and earth meet. When I work, I always make sure that my workers don't damage them. Obviously, every night we leave everything clean around, we tidy up well. At night they come to light candles. By then everything has to be clean. We always sweep. We don't leave tools, debris or garbage around. No way any of the workers would dare to break anything or take anything from here. Jaime also explained to me exactly what you can and can't do around them: ”For example, you can't lean on the roof of the casita or sit on it.
Image 24. Animita de Carolina.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Chorrillos with León Bustos, Linares, Maule Region, Chile.
July, 2017.
Image 25. Animita de Pia
David Arturo Espinoza.
Monsignor Ramón Munita, Puerto Montt, Chile.
January, 2025.
The animite as a person
Paola, the little port cheerleader
Image 26. Animita de Paola.
Pedro Pablo Medina
Port of Castro, Chiloé, Chile.
January, 2025.
“On Castro's waterfront, right where the port opens to the swaying of the sea and the wind, Paola's animita is affirmed with character. She was 27 years old when a driver under the influence of alcohol and drugs took her life in this place. Today, her memory lives on among fresh flowers and two large pinwheels that spin merrily, moved by the gentle sea breeze. The animita does not go unnoticed: it is colorful, firm, with some cheerful presence, as if to say that there is still life here, in spite of everything. That day the tourists, tall gringos with fisherman's hats and cameras around their necks, were in the majority. They would stop briefly in front of the animita, observe it with curiosity for about ten seconds, then continue on their way. One of them saw me taking a picture, and stopped for a few more seconds, perhaps wondering what I was seeing that he hadn't seen”.
Amber, between cigarettes and condoms
Image 27. Amber Animita
Lili Almási-Szabó
Fray Camilo Henríquez with General Jofré, downtown Santiago, Santiago de Chile.
December, 2016.
“Ah, I see you have brought fresh flowers for Amber,” I commented aloud. Don Danilo immediately invited me to the altar and began to explain. The purple and white flowers were brought by an old lady on Friday, whom he doesn't know. But, according to him, she is not related to Amber. There were also a couple of artificial flowers left next to him. I saw the remains of cigarettes left next to the three little toy cars and some condoms. There were exactly three cigarette butts. They were stuck (or had been stuck) to the altar with a few drops of candle wax. I learned that these cigarettes were smoked by Amber, i.e. they were brought as offerings. I mentioned that I had already heard about this custom in the cemetery. Don Danilo said that cigars are also often brought for Ámbar.
Panchita, the little girl from the beach
Image 28. Animita de Panchita
Sebastian Fuentealba
Las Torpederas, Playa Ancha, Valparaíso, Chile.
December, 2024.
“The animita serves to make the horrible place where the accident happened somehow beautiful and acceptable. Imagine if you had to spend every day at the corner where your 6-year-old son was run over. You would be depressed, then you wouldn't be able to handle the pressure and then you would have to move. From a psychological point of view, the animita is a great help to people. If the family builds an animita at the site of the tragedy, which is a little house with his picture, candles and his favorite toys, it is as if he is there. He is really there. You feel the child's presence there. Those who are saddened by his loss will surely be happy to go to that place, because he is there.”.
Paula, 27 years old (2016)
Clemente with his shirt
Image 29. Animita de Clemente.
Santiago Urzúa.
Curro Bridge, Carol Urzúa traffic circle, Vitacura, Santiago de Chile.
July 2023.
Lxchito the popular
Image 30. Untitled.
Santiago Urzúa.
Carrascal Avenue, Renca, Santiago de Chile.
July, 2023.
“I went to his animita and smoked a cigarette with him. I lit one, and gave him a bottle of Coca-Cola. I was sure that with this I could convince him, and it would help me. Anyway, he died young, so how could he not like cigarettes and coke? We sat down together and talked about my request”.
Maya, 16 years old (2016)
Victor and Manuel
Image 31. Untitled.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Ruta 43, km 52, Tambillos Sector, La Serena, Chile.
October 2025.
The carabinero's animita
Image 32. Animita by Luis Carrasco Burgos
Lili Almási-Szabó
Ruta 43, km 49, Sector Las Barrancas, La Serena, Chile.
October 2025.
“In the case of the death of carabineros, the Carabineros [as an institution] do not install animitas; those who install them are their relatives and, in general, their friends [...] We have a significant number of carabineros who have died both in the line of duty and for other causes. So, if you go around the cities, you will find little animitas with a photo of a person in a carabinero's uniform. In some cases, these are carabineros who died in the line of duty, to whom we have the greatest respect and gratitude. Because when you graduate from school, you take an oath. You swear before God and the flag to give your life, if necessary, to protect order and security, and obviously to defend the people. That oath to which this policeman committed himself, he fulfilled it”.
The animita can't be left out
Image 33. Animitas without name.
Santiago Urzúa.
Road to Farellones, Lo Barnechea, Santiago, Chile.
March 2023.
“The animita, if you take it out of the road, it does not only affect the family: it is the territory, the neighbors, everyone who opposes this decision.
Carlos, fiscal inspector of the Ministry of Public Works (2025)
Image 34. Animita of Cristina and Mauricio
Lili Almási-Szabó
La Serena, Chile.
October 2025.
“For me, dealing with the animitas was like a stroke of empathy. You have to talk to people directly, there is no other way. When I came to work on the Acceso Sur project, between Santiago and Talca, I was quite disconnected from the subject. I saw a little cheerleader and I thought: ‘We have to take her out’. But soon after, they call me and tell me that it is not possible, that nobody is going to touch it, not even the workers, because -according to the people- the pains of hell will fall if someone does it. I thought: ‘How can people be so stubborn? Until I met with the relatives and they told me. Then it was a reality check: brutal accidents, very brutal, the kind you wish you never had to know about. But in this case I knew it up close. Many times, at the moment of the accident, not even the body is enough to recognize the person.
Image 35. Animita de Giovanni
David Espinoza
Regiment, Puerto Montt, Chile.
January 2025.
“The accident happened at an intersection, and we built my brother's little animita right where he died, on the side of the road [...] Shortly after the accident, my brother's animita began to be known as miraculous. The first plaque was not even ours, and that surprised us. We always visited him, but other people started to come too. My brother helped many people. He healed people with addictions: drug addicts, gambling addicts, smokers. They sought him out to get rid of those things. To this day he continues to work miracles [...] Years later, a driveway was built right where the animita was. As we had no money to ask for a permit, the animita was removed without any notice. We never found the parts of her little house. Several years have passed and it still hurts”.
Image 36. Animita de Juan José.
Lili Almási-Szabó and David Arturo Espinoza.
Maturana and Yunguay Streets, Villa Alemana, Chile.
September, 2025.
“If someone destroys the animita, either by bad intentions or ignorance, they lose the gifts that have been brought to Juan José. And those gifts have a lot of love behind them. They have been brought by his friends, other bikers or even neighbors who did not even know him in person, but who wanted to leave him something. All of that has a nice meaning, something very personal. For example, friends have brought him stickers of bikers, they also made him a little chain that was from his motorcycle and put it here. If he loses all that, he loses it. Now a neighbor made a drawing for him, and we are going to frame it and put it here too.
Claudia, 36 years old (2025)
Where two souls heal
Image 37. Animita de Juan José.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Maturana and Yunguay Streets, Villa Alemana, Chile.
September, 2025.
“The animitas are the place where you can connect with the person who is gone. It's as if I go to see my friend at his house and have tea with him. For me, Juan José's animita is the place where I can connect with him. I talk to him. His body is in the cemetery, but this is where the whole accident happened, this is where he took his last breath [...] We put lights on it, because we wanted it to always have light. People who knew him said that Juan José shone, he shone with his smile and his jokes. So with the lights he will always shine, wherever he is”.
Claudia, 36 years old, Juan José's sister (2025)
Image 38. Animita de Rafita.
David Arturo Espinoza.
Tenglo Island, Puerto Montt, Chile.
January, 2025.
“I am not a believer, but I dare to say that in the event that tomorrow an accident happens to me with a fatal victim of one of my relatives, I would surely go for that little cheerleader, but I give you my word, yes or yes I will fight for that little cheerleader”.
Cristian, fiscal inspector for the Ministry of Public Works (2025)
Image 39. Animita de Romualdito.
Lili Almási-Szabó
Estación Central, Santiago de Chile.
January, 2017.
In multiple visits and conversations with devotees in different popular sanctuaries, I have heard time and again how people talk about miracles as part of a system of exchange. The daily language of those who approach the animitas shows a logic where asking and giving back are part of the same value relationship. One woman, for example, told me quite naturally: “I have to pay Romualdito for the miracle he performed”. On other occasions, this logic of reciprocity appears more developed, even detailing what is given in return. One mother told me: “We asked Romualdito to heal our son, and in return we take him to him every year”. Another devotee shared: “Romualdito promised me that he would heal my leg, but in exchange I have to come to visit him every year”.
Image 40. Untitled.
Belén Miranda Osses.
Río Quetro with San José, Estación Central, Santiago, Chile.
September, 2023.
“In the place where an unexpected death occurs we put something: an animita. In the cemetery remains the body, but in the animita lives the soul. The little house makes it possible for us to meet that soul, and from this encounter comes healing. The family raises it to heal their loss, we the people ask it to face our own ailments, but also, in silence, to listen to theirs. These two souls meeting reminds us of the fragility of life, but from the celebration: they are vibrant, with flowers, stuffed animals and offerings. They speak not only of the person, not only of the family, but of everyone. In this daily interaction there is no need to laugh or cry. It is an instance where you heal from the silence: the animita and you”.
David Espinoza and Lili Almási-Szabó, final reflection
The Cuir Sinvergüenza Cult: ritual recreations based on performance.
Image 1. Program of the “Shameless Liturgy”.”
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
The program takes on a political meaning by asking attendees to sign the Pronouncement Against the ecosieg.
Image 2. “Calaveras y diablitos”.”
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
The altar brings together elements of Mexican culture. The Cuir Cult was planned close to the dates of commemoration of the dead saints in Mexico, hence elements such as skulls, pan de muerto and cempasúchil were included in it. This tells us about the adaptability of these Protestant-Evangelical Cuir practices.
Image 3. Intersectional altar and stage
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
About the logo of Theology Without Shame, at the back of the stage, Reverend Sex noted, “It is putting pleasure and bodies with vulva back in the field of the sacred, with the church stained glass window that says: here also dwells the sacred” (Reverend Sex, informal WhatsApp chat, November 7, 2024).
Image 4. An exorcism “to cure”, of what? “Karma is a Bitch”, performance by Ezra Merol
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
This image is a representation of one of the formats of “sexual reorientation therapies” or "sexual reorientation therapies". ecosieg, made to individuals lgbtq+. These are carried out in different religious spaces, but are not limited to them.
Image 5. Muertx, never! “Karma is a Bitch”, performance by Ezra Merol
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
Pain, confusion, senselessness. The consequences of physical, emotional and psychological torture to which people are subjected. lgbtq+ by going through “conversion therapies” or "conversion ecosieg.
Image 6. Salvation. “Karma is a Bitch”, performance by Ezra Merol.
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
The importance of support networks, represented in the muxe. The muxes are a reference in the struggle for rights. lgbtq+ in Mexico.
Image 7. This is me, bitches! Drag, Matraka
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
Support networks and (self-)recognition allow for self-determination. Matraka, drag queen from the state of Guanajuato, whose characteristic of her art is to mix elements of Mexican culture in the reaffirmation of gender diversity.
Image 8. “The Other Party”, performance by La Otra Laboratoria
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
Setting the stage to receive the next performancerx.
Image 9. Transcending gender binarism. Performance by La Otra Laboratoria
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
The performance focused on questioning gender binarism and society's inflexibility in naming people. lgbtq+ with pronouns that identify themselves, beyond the male and female categories. “Why can't they call me by my name?” the artist exclaimed to the audience.
Image 10. Scoundrels and the brave
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
Reverend Sex and Nadia Arellano, introduced the trans baptisms, Exalting Little Courage. “Coming to a place that is called worship, even if we add cuir, is not easy and we honor that. Coming to a place where we talk about theology, in a world that has historically been built by white Christian supremacy, is not an easy thing. We want to honor it and we want to thank you for the trust. We also want to bless. To bless, means to speak well, well-say to heaven about someone. It is not a power given to us by the church, it is a power given to us by the divinity in us and today we want to bless you: Bless you, unbreakable spirits. Blessed is your joy that has the capacity to name and to keep expanding. Blessed are your bodies, bodies, sacred, precious and powerful bodies. Blessed their courage.” (Field Notes, The Exaltation of Small Courage by Nadia Arellano, October 27, 2024).
Image 11. Blessed diversity
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
Cuir pastors gathered to recognize, bless and welcome new members to the cuir and feminist believing community. The traditions/churches to which the pastors in the photo belong are: Comunidad de Fe Santa María Magdalena of Anglican tradition in El Salvador; Misión Cristiana Incluyente (mci) in Mexico; Comunidad Luterana del Perú; Comunidad Abrazo Disidente, which focuses on people with lgbtq+ and neurodivergent; Trans-Formando Community linked to the Costa Rican Lutheran Church; Metropolitan Community Church Mexico and Brazil; Latino Ministry in Oakland and the Baptist Church of Nazareth, Brazil.
Image 12. “The water of the ancestors”.”
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
Reverend Sex explains where the water of the ancestors comes from, while depositing the water in the bowl that will be used for baptizing.
Image 13. Recovering the collective value of sacredness
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
Reverend Sex explains how the dynamics of the baptism ritual will be. The change of name through this ritual is the recognition of dissent and its welcome into the faith community.
Image 14. Rebirth Osvva
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
“I am from Yucatan and I came to Mexico City to have a journey of exploration, self-recognition, healing. And I didn't expect this at all, so this spiritual, erotic and sexual rebirth is very significant, I love it!” (Osvva, Field notes, Cuir Cult).
Image 15. Yacurmana rebirth
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
“It means all my indigenous ancestry, Yacurmana is the deity of water. So that the water also flows”. (Tacurmana, Field notes, Cuir Cult).
Image 16. Reborn Canek
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
“For me it is important to recover my original name, I was called Canek before I was born, then I was born and my name was no longer Canek. So, it is my original name and in this baptism I recover it, I recover all that (and I recover myself).” (Canek, Field notes, Cuir Cult).
Image 17. Ahmelie reborn
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
“The meaning I feel is because something is telling me that it loves me and that I am not alone. And that my name is my remembrance and my restatement that I can be myself and that I can receive that love. Amen.” (Ahmelie, Field Notes, Cuir Cult).
Image 18. Reborn Miyu Hari Alarcón
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
“My first name, Miyu, is part of the name my mother gave me, but I didn't really like it (Yu). So I named it ‘mi’, because I feel that every time someone pronounces my name I am part of that person. Yu, which my mother taught me to write. Haira means ‘God’ in India, so I transposed my God, putting his name in me. I left my mother's Alarcon, as my mother's patriarchal surname, and to leave all that she means to me. Just to tell you: when I arrive in Colombia, I will already have my ID card with my name”. (Miyu Hari Alarcón, Field notes, Culto Cuir).
Image 19. “La virgen de la Leche”.”
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
An embodied critique of the demonization of identities lgbtq+.
Image 20. The object of curiosity. “Delicias del Baubo”, performance by Disidentxs Histéricxs.
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
In front of them, a table covered by a silver cloth that was raised in the center by what looked like a phallic-shaped object.
Image 21. Tasting the unknown. “Delicias del Baubo”, performance by Lxs Disidentxs Histéricxs.
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
The hysterical dissidents on the verge of falling into temptation.
Image 22. “Baubo's Delights”, performance by Disidentxs Histéricxs
Photo: Hilda María Cristina Mazariegos Herrera
Prophecy Club 9, cdmx, October 27, 2024
This performance invites to the liberation and enjoyment of pleasure. To vindicate non-hegemonic bodies and depathologize women's experiences. When their behavior does not comply with the expected role of kindness and docility, they are called "hysterical", "intense"! Dissident Hysterics question the patriarchal frameworks through which women's desire, emotions and opinions have been historically invalidated.
Images that resist: regimes of visibility and other possible landscapes.
Last November, we announced the vii Photographic Contest of the Encartes to reflect on the relationships between image, power and resistance. The invitation arose from an urgent and fundamental concern: how to interfere in the visual saturation and the vertiginous circulation of violent images that, in some way, colonize our everyday life and our imagination. We live in an era in which images circulate with overwhelming intensity. Far from guaranteeing, by themselves, a broader understanding of the world, their proliferation often produces the opposite effect: saturation, perceptual fatigue, affective dispersion and inability to understand what we see.
The so-called post-truth does not only consist of certain power groups lying or manipulating; nor does it mean that some media exclude or hide; nor, even more, that as individuals we prefer to look only at what confirms our prejudices. Carlos Bravo Regidor maintains -and we agree with him- that what is at stake is a crisis of truth in a context in which technological changes, marked by the accelerated immediacy of information and overwhelming saturation, as well as social changes, characterized by the proliferation of hatred, fear, the radicalization of authoritarianism and the loss of confidence in institutions, make it more difficult for us to understand what we see and what this produces in us.
Violence has become one of the privileged objects of this visual economy. It is shown, repeated and distributed until it becomes a constant presence in the media landscape. But this presence does not necessarily equate to a deep understanding of its causes, its plots or its effects. Often, the abundance of images of pain ends up emptying them of their historical and political depth. This is when it is appropriate to speak of regimes of visibility. Every culture organizes the visible and the invisible, hierarchizes what deserves attention and manages the distances between closeness and remoteness that we establish with what is looked at. It also constructs frameworks of intelligibility from which certain lives, as Judith Butler has argued, appear worthy of mourning, care or memory, while others are relegated to the background noise. A regime of visibility does not only refer to a set of images, but to a distribution of visuality: a sensitive pedagogy that models what we can perceive and also how we should interpret what we see and what affections are legitimate in the face of it. In this sense, images go beyond representing the world: they actively participate in its ordering.
From this perspective, following Georges Didi-Huberman, we can distinguish between images of power and images of potency. The former is not only the image produced by the State, by the media or by a dominant institution; it is, more broadly, that image that closes the field of meaning, fixes a reading and captures attention within a given framework. It is an image that extracts from the scene its complexity and, in doing so, normalizes a docile relationship with violence. The image of power does not necessarily conceal; it often exhibits. Its operation does not consist in censuring, but also in exposing in order to impose a way of seeing in which commotion replaces comprehension and understanding. shock displaces the reflection.
On the contrary, an image of power interrupts the usual forms of representation. It is an image that opens a pause in visual inertia, forces us to look in a different way and restores an ethical, affective and historical density to the experience. It is not a question of “beautiful” images, but of images capable of disrupting the grammar of what I have named, the "beautiful". media siege; That is to say, a communicative operation that simplifies or consumes too quickly. They are images that do not exhaust their meaning in the immediate denunciation because they also work with the minimal gesture, the hint, the care, the daily life or the persistence of the common.
This point is decisive at a time marked by the crisis of truth. Not because we have simply entered a time of absolute falsehood, but because the very status of the image as proof has become unstable. Let us think, for example, of the fake news. Accelerated circulation, infinite editing, fragmentation of context and the competition for attention erode the confidence that seeing equals knowing. The truth of an image can no longer rest solely on its appearance of evidence. It requires mediations, historical inscription, reading frameworks and relations between the visible and the decipherable. In this scenario, the problem is not to discern whether an image is true or false, but to understand what regime of truth sustains its circulation, what interests it organizes, what world it confirms and what forms of sensibility it produces.
The spectacularization of violence is inscribed precisely in this terrain. When horror becomes a spectacle, the image ceases to be a space for elaboration and becomes an affective commodity: it captures attention, intensifies the impact, but impoverishes the experience. The result, it seems to me, is a double movement: on the one hand, repetition anesthetizes; on the other, spectacularity immobilizes. We see a lot, but we understand little. We feel a momentary shock, although it does not necessarily activate a more complex relationship with memory, responsibility or action.
Thus, we can understand the media siege as a way of besieging perception, since it operates not only by silencing, but also by directing, saturating, reiterating and administering sensibility. The siege organizes the conditions in which the visible appears already captured by a dominant grammar. With this regime, violence ceases to appear as a field of forces -as proposed by Martin Jay-, that is, as a set of historical processes and forms that demand reading, positioning and critical work of the gaze. Hence, dismantling the media siege does not consist simply in “showing other images”, but in altering the grammar from which we look at horror. In this sense, politicizing the gaze implies shifting it from the consumption of scenes to the interrogation of their conditions of appearance. It implies asking what remains outside the frame, what lives do not achieve visibility, what forms of presence survive in the margins and what gestures, objects, landscapes or links can disarticulate the dominant grammar of horror.
This is precisely where the photographic competition organized by Encartes. We received 90 photographs. The call asked for images that did not reproduce suffering in a crude manner, but that explored ways of looking from resistance, care, memory and daily life. It also sought photographs capable of questioning the limits of the visible and of restoring to the image its power of invention, memory and persistence. More than assembling a thematic repertoire, what was at stake here was a dispute over the gaze itself: a search for images that would resist spectacularization, trivialization or the reproduction of social hierarchies without questioning them.
From this perspective, the finalist photographs can be read both for what they show and for the operation of countervisuality they perform. The question is not only what they represent, but in what way they displace the field of what is given as legitimate, what relation they establish with fragility or persistence, and how they produce an experience of gaze that, instead of reiterating the media fence, opens a crack in it. Against this backdrop, the corpus of the contest can be understood as a heterogeneous set of attempts to restore to the image a capacity to think, to affect and politicize sensibility without falling into the reproduction of the spectacle of violence.
Requiem for autonomy, by Francisco de Parres, is a photograph showing two bodies dancing. One corresponds to Lukas Avendaño, performer muxe; the other, a member of the Zapatista community. The scene plays with the ambiguity and tension between the hegemonic regimes that regulate bodies and their relations with sexodisidences. It overflows with irony, pleasure and performativity. To one side, a hooded figure, dressed in black, seems to accompany or lead the scene. The photograph works with an extraordinary tension between spectacle, ritual, desire, threat and community. Its power lies in the fact that it dismantles a linear reading. It does not allow itself to be reduced either to the document of a popular celebration or to a univocal denunciation. Rather, it produces a scene in which the festive archive, the theatricality of the genre, the masquerade, violence and political resistance rub up against each other without being completely resolved. That irresolution is one of its greatest virtues. Instead of delivering to the spectator a closed certainty, it forces him to remain in the discomfort of a scene in which joy and threat coexist. The image does not show horror; it exhibits something more complex: the fragility of an incarnated freedom that can only be affirmed by traversing the outdoors.
Green tide, by Doménica Salas, works from another visual logic: not saturation, but symbolic condensation. We see an equestrian monument intervened by huge green fabrics that wrap and overflow the body of the rider and part of the horse. At the base, almost tiny compared to the sculptural mass, a scaled person adjusts or holds the cloth. The contrast between the monumentality of the sculpture, the fragility of the intervening body and the mobility of the textile generates an image of enormous political precision. Here the dispute over visuality appears as an act of deconsumentalization. The statue represents official history, patriarchal sovereignty and the monumental permanence of power in public space. It is a figure of Francisco Villa. The green cloth -unequivocally associated with feminist and pro-choice struggles in Latin America- does not destroy the monument, but it does disarrange it, rewrite it and profane it in the best sense: it takes away its pretended historical neutrality. The image captures the instant in which a sedimented symbol of power is covered by another sign, mobile, soft, collective and contemporary. This cloth goes beyond covering: it displaces the meaning of the statue; it turns it into something else and forces it to speak from a new scene. In this gesture, the image makes visible one of the most relevant political operations of contemporary movements: to intervene the frames of memory and authority that organize the common space.
As part of the contest, Green tide stands out because it does not represent violence directly or reduce it to a scene of spectacular confrontation. Rather, its strength lies in showing how feminist intervention transforms public space by contesting the symbols of official history. Violence appears here not as a visible wound or as explicit devastation, but as patriarchal sedimentation in monumental memory, in legitimized narratives and in the forms of authority that occupy the city. That is why the power of the image is not limited to registering a protest action: it shows the precise gesture through which a collective body rewrites the meaning of a monument and tears it, even if only momentarily, from the grammar of power. Its strength lies in making visible that political transformation also occurs at the level of signs, memory and forms of appearing in common.
St. Jude and the crucifixion, by Ximena Torres, elaborates another register: that of the march, the search and the public persistence in the face of forced disappearance. In the center is a woman walking down the street wearing a mask, holding a large canvas on which are superimposed the religious image of St. Jude Thaddeus, flowers, a prayer and the portrait of an absent man. Behind, other search posters confirm that this is not an isolated case, but a collective plot of disappearance and the demand for his return. The composition brings together several visual languages at once: popular religiosity, print culture, street protest, family portrait and search document. The strength of this photograph lies in its capacity to condense the practice of the search: the mixture between prayer and denunciation, between faith and claim, between devotional image and political demand. The canvas functions as a portable altar, an affective archive and a banner. The image of St. Jude does not replace the absent person; it accompanies and sustains the act of searching for him. Thus, the photograph records a fundamental aspect in the contexts of disappearance in Mexico: the search is not only organized from the legal or institutional language, but also from moral, affective and spiritual economies that allow resisting abandonment.
Formally, the image is very eloquent because of its frontality. The woman's body is almost covered by the poster, which produces a very significant effect: she carries the image, but also becomes the support of that memory. Her walk embodies a form of active mourning, of incarnated denunciation. The shadow projected on the pavement intensifies that presence, as if the body were spreading on the ground another trace of the search. The image does not turn the pain into shock visual; it returns it as a sustained practice, as a march, as a public exhibition of the broken link. In doing so, it disarms the media fence that usually reserves attention for the most sensational moment of violence and leaves out the exhausting duration of the search. Here the political is not in the exceptional scene, but in the obstinate repetition of going out into the street with the name, the face and the hope of the return.
In the corpus as a whole, this image contributes a powerful ethical dimension: it reminds us that looking also implies accompanying the way in which an absence becomes a social presence through the bodies that carry it, name it and exhibit it. Its power lies in showing that the image, in contexts of disappearance, in addition to documenting a demand, can function as a support for memory, faith, community and the demand for justice.
This photographic contest managed to gather a network of images in which collective processes that rescue daily life in public spaces abandoned by institutions, but recovered through care and gestures of affection, are recognized. Other images accompany social rites against the backdrop of violence and its maelstrom; heterogeneous religiosities that sustain hope and grant protection; intimate approaches to accompaniment in processes of resistance.
Alina Peña
First place
Requiem for autonomy
Francisco De Parres Gómez
2019 - Chiapas
Lukas Avendaño (muxe) with a member of the Zapatista communities.
The scene tensions the hegemonic regimes of visibility by situating the body, memory and autonomy as an insurgent political landscape. The image disputes the right to appear. Performative gesture that resists erasure in a dance festival in Zapatista autonomous territory.
Second place
Green Tide
Doménica Salas Santos
2020 - Chihuhua, Chihuahua, Mexico.
The vilified statue of Pancho Villa was covered by the green tide during the March 8, 2020 march. The event symbolized the demand for abortion rights and women's free decision over their bodies.
Third place
St. Jude and the crucifixion
Ximena Torres
2023 - Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico.
Since 2023 Francisco Javier is one of the thousands of missing persons in Jalisco. In a march, the shadow of her relative and the tarp she carries reproduce the crucifixion of Jesus and emulate the pain of absence.
Man dressed as a representation of evil
Alejandro Cepeda
2022
Man paints his body with a white mud and a weapon made of wood to represent the evil in its actuality: the white man and the weapons that affect his territory.
Crown for the invisible
Aurora Villalobos
2025 - ProyectoVeta Cultural Center, Morelia, Michoacán, Mexico.
Drag and the image rewrites the stigmatized body as a territory of sovereignty. The scene does not exhibit difference, but celebrates it as a living archive of queer resistance.
Workshop with children ódame de Baborigame
David Lauer
This image is part of a selection derived from my work over the years in Chihuahua accompanying Consultoría Técnica Comunitaria, A.C. and other human rights organizations, as well as personal projects related to the Sierra Tarahumara forest.
We are not one, we are not three, count us well...
Doménica Salas Santos
2020 - Chihuhua, Chihuahua, Mexico.
Thousands of women occupied the square, turning it into an echo of resistance. Their collective voice denounced the violence that for centuries has curtailed their rights and the free decision over their bodies.
The Borrowed Landscape: The Construction of a Symbolic Home.
Eduardo Javier Badillo Lozada
2025 - Mexico City, Mexico.
This image challenges the conventional representation of social exclusion by focusing on the creation of a space of intimacy in the public. The painting hanging on the fence acts as a symbolic ‘window’ into an imagined home, a discreet form of resistance that attempts to rebuild a sense of belonging and dignity. The dog, in its vigil, personifies care and companionship, transforming a scene of lack into a testimony of companionship and affection.
Sneakers
Fernando Dominguez
2026 - Congress of Nuevo León, Mexico.
In front of the Nuevo Leon Congress, banners with legal references to trans rights surround the sneakers of a member of the trans protest under police surveillance.
Sit-in activist
Fernando Dominguez
2026 - Congress of Nuevo León, Mexico.
At the access to the Nuevo León Congress, a trans activist from the trans sit-in uses a loudspeaker under police surveillance during the dialogue table on transfeminicide.
Community memory
Juan Diego Andrango
2018 - Kisapincha, Ecuador.
Between farms and fog, the sound crosses the landscape as an act of care, announcement and collective belonging.
Another dignity of living
Julio Gonzalez
2025 - Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico.
It is the afternoon of September 2025, dignity organizes itself to move through the streets of Guadalajara. In front, blind people stripped of their homes, with their eyes on the horizon and the smell of the streets as a geographic reference, walk shouting “What's up, what's up, we don't have a home!”.
The Nation's Foundations
Leonardo Cassiel Hernández Valdespino
2023 - Bordo de Xochiaca
Mexico is a country of violence; those of us who grew up here know what it is like to flourish amidst shattering.
Collective textile memory
Lizeth Hernández Millán
2024 - Mexico City, Mexico.
As a result of the first embroidery circle at the Museum of Mexico City, a collective textile blanket was made to be taken to the March 8 march in Mexico City.
Communards under the shadow of the cross drainage
Marco Ernesto Blanco López
2024 - Community of Guadalupe Victoria and its annex La Cruz, municipality of Mexquitic de Carmona, San Luis Potosi, Mexico.
Community members rest in a drainage tunnel during an anthropological survey against territorial dispossession, transforming infrastructures into spaces of shared memory.
untitled
Naomi Greene Ortiz
2013 - Glorieta de Los Niños Héroes, now called “Glorieta de las y los desaparecidos”. Guadalajara, Jalisco, 2023.
The re-named Glorieta de Las y Los Desaparecidos de Jalisco, the state with the highest number of forced disappearances nationwide, displays a series of faces piled on top of each other; some on canvases, others on posters, many others on tiles embedded to avoid being removed at night. Welcome to Guadalajara!”
Alfaro did know (vigil for the Izaguirre ranch)
Pilar Aranda Moncivaiz
2025 - Government Palace, Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico.
Searching mom
Pilar Aranda Moncivaiz
2025 - Government Palace, Guadaljara, Jalisco, Mexico.
Daniela your mom is still in the fight
Pilar Aranda Moncivaiz
2025 - Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico.
First feminist children's batucada
Pilar Aranda Moncivaiz
2025 - Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico.
Flor Alentejan
Rodolfo Oliveros
2025 - Lisbon, Portugal.
The Alentejan choirs sing of the struggle for freedom and the recovery of the land; they also honor the memory of Catarina Eufemia, a communist peasant murdered by the dictatorship.
Don Lucas and his collection of art rescued from the trash
Santiago Hoyos
2025 - Barrio de la Araña, Álvaro Obregón, CDMX.
I met Don Lucas during a job paid for by the Alcaldía Álvaro Obregón in the neighborhood of La Araña. He bragged to us about his extensive collection of art rescued from the garbage dumps in the barrancas and how he uses it as a form of resistance to the excessive waste seen in Mexican society today. Here he is posing with his collection.
Renewed faces in the Glorieta
Ximena Torres
2025 - Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico.
The Glorieta de las y los desaparecidos is the most important site of memory for the searching families of Guadalajara, who have developed strategies to maintain search cards for the missing at the monument.
untitled
Yllich Escamilla Santiago
2025 - Basilica of Guadalupe, Mexico City, Mexico.
Every December the Basilica of Guadalupe also becomes a space for protest, memory and hope. It is there where the parents of the 43 missing normalistas take the space to make their struggle visible.
Bibliography
Bravo Regidor, Carlos (2025). Sea of doubts. Mexico City: Grano de Sal/ Gatopardo.
Butler, Judith (2010). War frames: lives mourned. Barcelona: Paidós.
Canal Encuentro (2017, January 26). Georges Didi-Huberman: the powerful image. YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6uvGhCgupq0
Jay, Martin (2003). Fields of force: between intellectual history and cultural critique. Buenos Aires: Paidós.
Curatorships of the self. Afrodescendence in question
My grandmother's face
On the left, Rosma shows me a snapshot of a photo of her paternal grandmother during a visit to her mother's house to see the family album. On the right a close-up of the photo, which is a clipping of a photograph that is part of a memory of a family visit to Mexico City in the 1980s. His grandmother was the daughter of a fisherman born in Loma Bonita, Oaxaca, who had lived in Veracruz since he was a child.
It's the only photo I have of my paternal grandmother. That's where I got the hair and the brown [...].
Dialogues with Rosma
Ambivalences
With hipil de gala (terno or Yucatecan regional costume) reserved for special and festive occasions. This costume, considered "traditional" in Yucatán, was created from the dress used by the Yucatecan mestiza (indigenous woman) to dance jarana in the state's famous vaquerías; over time, it became a hallmark of Yucatecan identity (Repetto and Medina, 2020: 243).
My mother "[...] was in political groups, I don't know exactly what she was doing, but López Portillo was going to arrive, there was going to be a welcoming committee for the president with women and they were given their suits. They lent it to them. My mom never wore mestiza dress, no woman in my family. My mother and grandmother spoke Mayan, but they denied it. There was that contradiction, because they did not wear the traditional costume, but they did have several daily practices related to the Mayan, the use of domestic space, food, daily utensils, following important dates of the agricultural calendar [...] I built over time respect and love for the link with the Mayan that was denied me by the family lineage."
Dialogues with Rosma
José Garduza, the father
This is a photo of the field practices [...i.e.] the soldiers' field practices that they carried out every so often to train in the field and learn how to survive in uncomfortable conditions. This must have been in Rio Lagartos or San Felipe, that's where they went for their training. My dad became a soldier when he was 22 or 23 years old and was part of Battalion 33 in Valladolid, where he met my mom.
Memories of Rosma
[...] all my life I saw my dad who is very dark and his hair is very curly, like that, pashushitoThere was a "hey, his hair is different, the color of his skin is very dark, isn't it? But it's not only that he had that, but he had other features different from the Yucatecan, like maybe his height, maybe his figure, there were other features in him that I saw [...].
In civil
I like this photo of my dad because it is one of the few where he is not a soldier [...] but he is from the army because his rifle is over there [...] I think it is San Felipe [Yucatán coast], because it is an old house that looks like the house of an aunt who lived there [...] he is very young...how handsome he was...my mom liked his legs [...] My dad was outstanding in sports, he always represented the army, he traveled a lot. He was a man who liked to prepare himself [...] when he met my mom he didn't know how to read or write and he enrolled in the same elementary school where I studied, he went in the afternoons; and he learned to read and write, that was before I was born [...] I know he had a very hard life, I have no idea why [...].
Memories of Rosma
Dating
Here she is with Don José in the park. I think they were just beginning to be sweethearts. They were about 23 or 24 years old [...] My mom doesn't have a naïve face, but a naughty face," she says with a laugh, "bandit! I can say that my mom grew up in the culture of whitening. In fact, she told me that her parents said to her, 'Are you crazy, your kids are going to be born brown with that man! It was almost as if they were saying she'd had a backflip [laughs again]. And yet she chose a black man [...] and she loved that her children were brown and curly-haired.
Memories of Rosma
Absences and marks
This photo provokes two emotions in me. On the one hand, nostalgia for a love that didn't happen, that was broken. But at the same time, I think: 'It's part of the past, it doesn't have to belong to the now'. He was a good dad, playful [...] that kind of dad. The rest, to tell you the truth, I don't remember much. He was often away for the army. I don't know at what point was the transition to not seeing him anymore [...] I just stopped seeing him.
Memories and reflections with Rosma
I was three years old in that picture. And although I don't have many memories of him, the ones I do have are very nice.
Sometimes I think: 'How strong, isn't it? And it also pisses me off that I have been so absent [...] and that at the same time he has left me all the legacies that are noticeable.
Maternal family
Family album photo. Merida, Yucatan. Around 1990
In the center, Rosma's maternal grandmother. On the right, her mother, Rosma and her brother. On the left, her aunt with a granddaughter in her arms, one of her daughters and her brother's daughter.
This was in the house that an uncle lent my mom, before we moved to the one she got through Infonavit [...] I was 14 years old. We were clearly brown compared to my cousins, who were white. It's a nice photo, you can see the popular environment in which I grew up [...] My mom always called me 'Negrita'; that was my nickname, and my brother she called him 'Negrito'. We were always black. The thing is that at that time I didn't link it with an idea of Afro-descent. And now it's like [...] well, obviously there is a relationship, but it's not that I feel represented within an Afro culture.
Memories and dialogues with Rosma
The dress and the fine tailoring
The dress represents a network of support woven through sewing, a practice that provided sustenance and social mobility to Rosma and her family. The craft of dressmaking, as well as the care and dedication in its execution, were an inheritance from her mother's lineage: from her mother, a professional seamstress, to herself, a jewelry maker.
Here I was 11 years old. This dress was made for me by my mother. She had been sewing professionally since she was 13 years old in a workshop with her cousins. I remember I was very fond of that dress [...] I loved the headdress, it was incredible, really, exquisite. She used very fine lace because my mother had already started working with a designer from New York who gave it to her.
Memories of Rosma
My first communion godmother was a woman who was very supportive of my mother. She was a lady with a high economic position, her boss at Cadenita Gold, a maquiladora where my mother worked. She knew how to see that my mother was delicate, meticulous [...] There is an aesthetic that I inherited from her. My mother never did anything shoddy, she liked exquisiteness. She had a deep respect for her craft. She was brutally committed to her work. She enjoyed it.
My grandmother, from a young age, warped hammocks. Her husband, my grandfather, was a blacksmith.
Memories of Rosma
The area
This was one of the most beautiful times of my childhood: the time of the [military] zone. Those were the houses where we lived, a very nice and safe subdivision. We had a ballet teacher there -she was the one who gave me the crown- [photo above left].
Memories of Rosma
All these girls you see here [lower photo and upper right photo] were from different places: Guadalajara, Oaxaca, Mexico City [...] we shared life in the colony. In these photos we are dressed as rumberas, it was carnival time. Lupita, who was the queen, was from Oaxaca. There were several girls from there; their mothers were big, big women [...] Juchitecas. I remember them very well.
Zoom
It's my cousin's wedding. We are my mother, my brother [...] I think even my cousins, but I cut out the photo to keep only my image, to look at myself. It's part of this process of rediscovering myself. Here I look very black, although my hair is straight. I love this photo because of the color of my skin, which stands out a lot. I was about nine years old.
Memories of Rosma
You know what fascinates me? The color my mom let me wear: roooojoo. I love it because I look like a little devil with my little horns," she laughs. My grandmother said it wasn't a suitable color to wear. From her Catholic point of view, it had a certain logic [...].
The beauty
Naomi Campbell (right) was not originally in the album. It was stuck on the wall in my room. When I vacated it, I tore down all the posters [...] but this one I didn't want to throw away. I cut it out and decided to keep it there. Obviously it was because of her beauty and the color of her skin. I was about 14 or 15 years old.
Dialogues with Rosma
In the photo below I am with my cousins. They always called me 'Sorulla', I was always the black girl in the family [...].
When I was 14 I had a friend named Lupita. She used to tell me: 'No, look, you're beautiful, look! She would fix my hair in a way that I didn't do, with mousseThe curl was very tight to mark the curl. For her it was very cool that I was brown. She did see in me an Afro-descendant trait that I, at the time, could not recognize. Maybe that's when I started to see myself differently [...] You know what I mean?
The game of mirrors
I was 14 years old [...] I think it was then that I began to feel deeply how my personality was configured. It was because of a cousin-in-law, the partner of a cousin, that I met at that time. She began to shape much of my identity. She was from Mexico City, brunette, brunette, brunette. I kept a picture of her because, imagine, to me she was beautiful. I proudly showed her off saying she was my sister, not my cousin.
Dialogues with Rosma
I liked her personality, how she dressed. She always wore her hair very curly, afro. It made a big impact on me. Besides, she talked to me about things that no one had ever talked to me about: sex, drugs, the wildness, chupe [...] I liked her hair so much that one day she took me to get my spirals done. She paid for them. It's strange, because I didn't have curly hair, but in that photo I do: I have spirals, and I felt a little more represented. I love that kind of hair [...].
Framing
I cropped this photo because I like that angle. I like it a lot: the composition, my hair, my face. We had these pictures taken in the workshop. I like my expression lines, because that's where you can see my forties. That you can see a jewel, the light, the color of the clothes [...].
Dialogues with Rosma
I do have an ideal of a woman: to know how to be a strong, upright woman, with poise. I realized, when I grew up, who is considered "dark" and who is not, depending on the context. I was delighted to discover these nuances.
Ball nose
This is one of my favorite pictures. I love our little ball noses. Sometimes I tell my son: -Hey, my love, we are black, aren't we? [referring also to his father, a dark man] And he, very correctly, answers me: "No, mom, we are not black, we are brown.
Dialogues with Rosma
The other day, in La Plancha,* I saw a girl of African descent and I said to him: -Look, what a beautiful color she has. And he answered me: -Mmm, I don't like it. I like the color of millionaires better. And I said: -And what is that color [laughs]? -More white, he said. And I: -Well [...] it's not of millionaires, there are poor and rich people of all colors. But it did make me think: where do these ideas come from?
*La Plancha Park. Public recreational space in Merida, Yucatan.
The patina
Seventeen years ago I had the opportunity to develop my manual skills and aesthetic sensibility in the Restoration Department of INAH. It was an incredible experience to touch, feel and connect with objects that had had their splendor centuries ago. I was fascinated to observe the details of the Mayan vessels, to imagine the workshops where they were made, the pigments they used [...] and how those colors remained alive even after centuries of burial. The apartment was full of pre-Columbian and colonial objects. Since then, I have had a fascination with patina: the clear and forceful trace of time left on things.
Dialogues with Rosma
"Beauty in the simple and crude."
I love this photo because of my hair: always loose, unruly and abundant. My jewelry has a deliberately raw, crude, powerful aesthetic.
Dialogues with Rosma
I once made a moodboard with images of women who inspire me. They were all African or Indian, tribal women, in their daily life [...] They have such a dignified look, so full. I hate those poses of models where they look like fragile, careless girls, with their legs bent [laughter] [...] hyper-sexualized, always complacent.
Profile, selfi
I took this picture myself. I loved the light in that house. I was in my work corner, noticed the halo of light falling on me, closed my eyes and took the picture. I love my profile there.
Dialogues with Rosma
The subject of the Mayan profile is not one that I have always celebrated. It was through other looks that I recognized it. Foreigners celebrate it a lot. Once I was told that my profile looked like the glasses in a museum. And yes, I looked at it and I thought, 'Sure, it's a Mayan profile!'
But there are also Spaniards and Moroccans with aquiline noses [...] they see you with their own imaginary. Now nobody asks me if I'm from India, but when I was thinner, they always asked me. Or if I was from Bangladesh. And now, if I'm a black woman [laughs].
Jewelry maker
[...] I am trying to capture in words this strength, this presence, this transgression of what is imposed on you as conventional jewelry [...] When I work I connect with my emotions, there is a lot of connection with what I do, I like to work in silence, in my corner, it is an island, surrounded by books, and jewelry, plants, and I am in my world.
Dialogues with Rosma
[...] it is difficult to put a description to this photo, but I feel a mystique [...] looking at my work in a tone of respect. Wearing my jewelry with a Calder book [...]
Many brown people like me, at some point I talked to girls, entrepreneurs too, and many of them have thought that the success of my jewelry is due to the foreign look they think I have. How strong, right? their imaginary [...] because they also feel talented, but they feel that they have not stood out like me because they do not have this flattering phenotype [...].
Image 21. Afro roots
"Let no one doubt my Afro roots [...] [ironic tone] Phenotypically I can believe that I have Afro elements and Mayan elements, but not cultural identity [...] phenotypically yes, I see it in the mirror and I recognize it.
Reflections with Rosma on identity
[...] in the end I am not [Afro-Mexican, Afro-descendant, Mayan], because I do have traits but those same emotions I have with the Mayan, eh? At some point I also identify myself closer to the Mayan, but I don't feel legitimate either, you know what I mean? At some point I said: 'It's just that they are quarts of my identities that are there, right? Why can't we reconcile all those parts?' I feel them [...] like this [...] fluctuating, around, right? But not completely part of me.
Do you know what really marks me as an identity? The popular culture, the knowledge that I come from a popular environment, from low-income backgrounds, that is, well, like maaaaaaaaaaa, a class identity that I have stronger".
Bibliography
Fernández Repetto, Francisco and Ana Teresa Medina-Várguez (2020). "Dressing Yucatecan identity. Etnomercancía, tradición y modernidad", Entrediversidades. Magazine of Science Social and Humanities(19), pp. 241-275.
Gutiérrez Miranda, M. (2023). "First approaches to the concept of image. selfie as a sign of self-representation and self-concept", in Ángeles Aguilar San Román and Pamela Jiménez Draguicevic (eds. Processes cross-cutting of the expression, the representation and the significance. Querétaro: Universidad Autónoma de Querétaro, pp. 103-129.
Nahayeilli B. Juarez Huet is a research professor at the Centro de Investigaciones y Estudios Superiores en Antropología Social (ciesas), Peninsular headquarters, and member of the snii. Her research focuses on three main areas: religious diversity in Mexico, Afro-descendants and the different manifestations of racism. She was academic co-responsible of the Cátedra unesco/inah/ciesas"Afrodescendants in Mexico and Central America: recognition, expressions and cultural diversity" (2017-2021); since 2016 she has served as academic co-coordinator of workshops on the use of visual tools for social research in. ciesas, Peninsular, from where he promotes collaborative work and methodological experimentation in visual anthropology. He is a member of the Network of Researchers on the Religious Phenomenon in Mexico (rifrem) and the Audiovisual Anthropology Research Network, Audiovisual Laboratory (riav) of the ciesas.
The dynamics of salvation goods in the cult of Jesus Malverde: a photographic essay on popular religiosity in Mexico.
Image 1. The Holy Cross of Malverde
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
Jesús Malverde was a bandit born in northwestern Mexico at the end of the 19th century. He died at the hands of the forces of order commanded by General Cañedo, then governor of Sinaloa. After his death, hanging from a mesquite tree, he was instructed not to bury his remains so that, not receiving a Christian burial, he could not rest in peace. Malverde's soul in pain has found in his devotees different forms of gratitude. One of them is to materialize this gratitude for the favors received; at some point, this gratitude was manifested in raising the steel cross shown in the photograph.
Image 2. Malverde's images
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
It is a set of religious figures of Jesus Malverde. Most of them are images of the bust of the character, although there are others in which he is seated on an armchair/throne. There are also necklaces, medals, rosaries and scapulars with the image of the saint's face. The largest figure stands out for being the authentic central image of the main niche of the chapel of Malverde, which is concentrated with so many other images in the hood of the van, property of the chapel to carry out the traditional tour through the surrounding streets.
Image 3. Images of Malverde II
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
In this photograph, inside the chapel, an original reproduction of the bust of Jesus Malverde can be seen, but unlike the one in the main niche, in this image he wears a green shirt and, around his neck, the handkerchief is black and white. Behind him, there are dollars and photographs taped with tape. Between the wall of the niche and the image of Malverde are other images of the Catholic faith, such as the Virgin of Guadalupe, St. Jude Thaddeus and Jesus Christ. Both in the devotee's hand and surrounding the saint are candles with the image and the prayer to Malverde. In front, with her back turned, is a woman; women are increasingly taking a more central role in the cult of Malverde.
Image 4. The freighter of the Divine Providence Rider
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
One type of errand often carried by Mexican cargo carriers -usually related to carnival and patron saint festivities- is to carry a carnival or pyrotechnics bull. The photo shows a person, a volunteer, carrying the image of the generous bandit on his horse, which is fixed to a metal structure that facilitates its transportation. During the procession different devotees have taken turns to carry the rider; and in the rests there are those who approach to give him liquor or beer to drink.
Image 5. Malverdista fashion
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
Caps, hats, sombreros, belts or cowboy shirts bearing the image of Malverde are merchandise that, outside the festive context, have a more profane meaning; however, during the festivity they are endowed with sacredness, as they are part of the sacred meaning of the image of Malverde. In this photo, a freighter with his back turned shows the detail of the image of Jesus Malverde surrounded by marijuana leaves and, in the center, a sunflower.
Image 6. Tattoos
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
A constant in the annual celebration of the cult of Malverde are the tattoos that are carried on the chest, back and arms, mainly. However, in this photo the innovative aspect is the gender of the bearer. It is relevant that more and more women are showing their Malverde tattoos during the festivity. Particularly, this photo focuses on the face of the character without offering more detail of his clothing. The representation of the Virgin of Guadalupe, half-length behind the saint, stands out.
Image 7. Tattoos II
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
A tattoo of Malverde on the shoulder of a woman, in which he wears a small bow tie instead of the tie he traditionally wears. Again, the portrait focuses on his face. Underneath, "Jesús Malverde" is inscribed. This piece is surrounded by other tattoos with no allusions to the religious or spiritual life of the adherent. It is about a woman who, by devotion or by some command, exhibits her tattoo during the festivity. Whether they are cargueras, pilgrims who accompany the saint on their knees in his procession or through their tattoos, among other elements of sacredness or malverdista spirituality, on this occasion the female category has acquired greater relevance.
Image 8. Tattoos III
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
In the case of men, the continued use of tattoos as a way to pay for a favor has remained almost a tradition during the May 3 holiday. In previous years, the tattoos were placed on parts of the body that are usually covered, such as the chest, back or legs. This photo shows a variation in this spiritual practice, as the image of Malverde is more frequently seen tattooed on the forearm. The photograph shows Malverde's face and that he wears a bow tie and a shirt. Behind the saint is St. Jude Thaddeus, showing half of his body, which protrudes above the generous bandit.
Image 9. Tattoos IV
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
Regarding the tradition of the malverdista tattoo, here we can appreciate the spiritual practice in its maximum splendor. The devotee, bare-chested, shows his tattoo, still fresh; a work that has not yet finished healing, but which allows the bearer to be ready to fulfill his command. This photo shows a reproduction of the print that usually has the prayer to Malverde on the back. That is why both the tie and the denim shirt are in keeping with the description of the image in the main niche in the chapel.
Image 10. V tattoos
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
Once again, a cargo carrier carrying his image of Malverde displays his tattoo on his forearm. Both the bust he carries and the image of his tattoo have a small bow and the same jacket; apparently, the latter has been copied from the former. The truth is that the constant tattoos on the forearm are a sign of tolerance and social acceptance of the devotion to Malverde. We cannot fail to point out that in the photo it stands out that he is spilling whisky to the figure.
Image 11. Consecrations
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
During the tour through the surrounding streets, the main image of Malverde is transported on the hood of a van owned by the chapel. This photo shows a group of religious images, medals, scapulars, etc., whose owners are adherents who walk alongside the truck. The practice of spilling alcoholic beverages on the images, usually whiskey or tequila, stands out. This spiritual practice, which is traditionally carried out year after year, is one of the most popular among the malverdistas adherents, reason why a lot of alcohol is spilled and the image is damaged, which must be repaired for the following year's tour.
Image 12. Consecrations II
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
The image in the main niche, during the festivity, is easier to see or touch during the tour than being inside the chapel, since to visit it in its niche you have to wait in line and wait your turn to pass, which usually takes a long time. This exit allows to observe the authentic image together with different variations. In this photo a saint of white complexion is observed, with medium bushy eyebrows, without beard, with mustache. He wears a white denim shirt with black details and a black tie with white stripes.
Image 13. Consecrations III
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
The rider of Divine Providence riding his white horse is sacralized during the tour by another visitor who, taking advantage of the break, pours whiskey on his head. In previous years this practice was seen almost as an exclusive relationship between the chaplain and the main image, since he is usually the one who has been in charge of receiving the liquor from the devotees to pour it on the images and on the visitors themselves. This photo shows a full body Malverde wearing a red tie, white shirt and black pants. Likewise, it stands out that in his hand he carries a sack or bundle in allusion to the generous bandit that he represents.
Image 14. Consecrations IV
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
Drinking liquor or using other substances in popular Catholicism and in Mexico is not something that is at odds with religious life. In Malverde's feast the adherents carry out this practice within the sacred field. This image shows a common way of sharing liquor among visitors participating in the dance, while waiting for the main image of Malverde to leave the chapel.
Image 15. Penance
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
Physical sacrifices -such as pilgrimages barefoot or on one's knees- are common in Catholic devotion. In Mexico, on December 12, the day the Virgin of Guadalupe is celebrated, it is normal to see the Guadalupe faithful enter the Basilica on their knees as a sign of faith. In the case of the Malverde festivity, it is an uncommon spiritual practice that required certain care, due to the fact that, unlike the winter in Mexico City, the asphalt in Culiacán during the month of May is scorching hot. However, for Malverde devotees this is not an impediment. The photo shows two people kneeling in procession behind the truck carrying the main image of Malverde.
Image 16. Penance II
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
Penance taken to the extreme of accepting physical punishment (self-inflicted) as a spiritual practice, despite being widely practiced, does not have the same acceptance within the Catholic Church, since there are less risky ways to achieve forgiveness. In this photo, two people are seen making the journey on their knees behind the main image of Malverde. Their faces cannot hide the physical pain. Their improvised knee pads, made from pieces of pants, reflect the urgency to reduce the impact of the concrete with each step they take. This photo also shows that their clothes are soaked with water as other devotees try to keep both the concrete and their bodies cool.
Image 17. Penance III
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
While it is true that, due to the blood on the knee ground by the concrete, a superficial reading of this photo invites us to think of a person with self-inflicted wounds, it is also necessary to describe a couple of symbolic elements within it. The first, the tattoo of Malverde's face decorated with roses that the person wears on his thigh accompanied by the phrase "in you I trust", indicates that probably walking on his knees is not his first command fulfilled to the saint. The second, which refers to the consecration of the act, has to do with genuflection as a spiritual practice and as a Catholic penitential practice, taken to an extreme use in terms of popular practice.
Image 18. Malverde de las siete potencias (Malverde of the seven powers)
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
This image stands out for its colorfulness. This bust, resting on the base of a pillar, exhibits in and on itself elements of another belief system. On the one hand, the shirt of the saint is dyed in seven colors, symbol of the seven powers or main deities of the Yoruba pantheon. On the other hand, on this Malverde there is a necklace of Elegguá, one of the main deities of the Yoruba religion, responsible for opening or closing the paths of its believers, as well as providing them with protection.
Image 19. Yoruba Malverde
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
Since its adoption by Colombian and Mexican drug traffickers a few decades ago, the Yoruba or Santeria religion has become more present in the so-called narcoculture. Nowadays, more and more corrido singers, influencers and other personalities related to drug trafficking intertwine popular belief systems. Again, the photo shows the bust of Malverde, this time with blue eyes and slightly pink lips, wearing a red tie and denim shirt. Around his neck he wears a necklace of Elegguá, the main protective deity of the Yoruba pantheon. It is a constant that Malverde is related to Elegguá, since both are protector saints of their adherents.
Image 20. The bust and its carrier
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
In addition to the devotees who seek to deposit a candle, some accessory or their personal images, either in the chapel or on the truck that leads the procession, during the celebration of May 3 it is common to see the cargueros carrying in their arms the images that regularly form part of their personal altars at home. This bust, in particular, is shown with variations such as the bushy eyebrow and red tie. A green rosary also stands out on the saint; possibly this color is also related to Orula, another deity of the Yoruba pantheon associated with wisdom.
Image 21. Malverde's cargo carrier
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
An image from the northeast of the country resting on a pillar base. In addition to highlighting the wide tie and for being decorated with a hat, this representation is characterized by blue eyes, false eyelashes, painted lips and blush on the cheekbones. In previous years, during the tour had highlighted the images of Malverdes pelones, a rapa, alluding to the cholos and homies from the State of Mexico. However, a feminized Malverde, inspired and molded by the life story of his carguera, is innovative. He transgresses the field of the sacralized masculine with a feminized sacralized image, which corresponds more to his own reality and his interpretative frameworks of spirituality.
Image 22. Amigurumi malverdista
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
The devotees of Malverde, whose presence is more and more constant during the festivity, have introduced different innovations to the field of religious and spiritual practices and beliefs. In this photograph the carguera has substituted traditional materials such as plaster for the creation of her image. In its place she carries a Malverde made with the crochet technique. The character is seen in full body, with a red tie, a bud of cannabis and a bag of money in both hands. On the base where the character rests, coins are placed as an offering.
Image 23. Party objects and carnival malverdista
Culiacán, Sinaloa, May 3, 2024
This photograph shows a contingent of devotees of the Fidencista Luz y Esperanza Mission, dressed in red. In the background is a botarga and a carnival balloon. The representation of Malverde is different, more in the style of Tamaulipas, while the balloon is decorated with pennants.
Arturo Fabian Jimenez is a researcher and documentary filmmaker with extensive experience in the study of religious phenomena and popular religiosity in Mexico, as well as in the analysis of migration and violence against migrants in regions such as the Darien. She is a specialist in the analysis of unofficial cults and the production of salvation goods, with a particular focus on the figure of Jesus Malverde. Her work combines ethnographic and photographic methods to document and analyze the practices and beliefs of diverse religious communities. In addition, she has researched and documented the plight of migrants through video documentary production to capture their experiences and make visible the violations of their human rights. She has presented her research at national and international conferences and has published several articles in specialized journals, providing a more comprehensive and accessible view of religious and migratory dynamics in contemporary contexts.
Monoculture and the "ecuaro": Aspects and genealogies of agricultural modernization in San Miguel Zapotitlán, Mexico.
Rubén Díaz Ramírez
Autonomous Metropolitan University - Iztapalapa Unit, Mexico
D. in Social Anthropology from the Universidad Iberoamericana. He is currently doing postdoctoral research at UAM-Iztapalapa. In his academic career he has been dedicated to historical and ethnographic research on various aspects of socio-technical transformations, as well as the imaginaries of progress, modernization and development in various localities of the municipality of Poncitlán, Jalisco. His current work deals with the anthropology and techno-environmental history of Poncitlán, with emphasis on San Miguel Zapotitlán.
ORCID: https://orcid.org/0000-0002-4424-0001
Image 1. Ghosts and ruins of progress
San Miguel Zapotitlán, January 16, 2022.
(Mariana on the ejido's old Oliver tractor) Agriculture is a way of life in which the ghosts and ruins of past projects live on, visible and invisible, peaceful and violent, ephemeral and enduring. This Oliver tractor model was one of the insignia of the "modernization" of ejido agriculture in the 1950s. The children of the generation born in the 1980s played in its ruins.
Image 2. Resignification of progress infrastructures
San Miguel Zapotitlán, March 07, 2022.
(Former CONASUPO offices, now Castariz) One of CONASUPO's functions was to prevent abuses by middlemen (known as coyotes) in the commercialization of corn. The Mexican rural landscape abounds with these ruins that resemble Mesoamerican temples. Image 2 shows the warehouses of San Miguel Zapotitlán. The ejido rents the warehouses to Agropecuaria Castariz and Integradora Arca, which symbolically and functionally appropriated the materializations of the dreams of progress in 20th century Mexican agriculture.
Image 3. Residual non-human presences
Potrero Barranquillas, May 7, 2021.
(Datura blooming in an alley near wheat) Subjecting agriculture to industrial production chains in the mid-20th century resulted not only in the subjugation of farmers to the production of food for the urban market, but also in the displacement or annihilation of other species classified as "weeds" or "pests". The alleys (areas between plots) are residual spaces, home to species that are also residual and therefore survive agrochemicals. In Image 3, a common toloache plant, maybe Datura stramonium L.
Image 4. Unexpected visitors
Potrero Barranquillas, December 06, 2018.
("Avenilla" in the alley) Stories of living beings survive in the landscape. Just as one day the Castilians brought their species from the other side of the ocean, in the 20th century hybrid corn, sorghum and exogenous wheat varieties were introduced. The pathways were laid for the arrival of other unexpected species. For example, the "avenilla" (possibly Themeda quadrivalvis), which colonizes disturbed areas on hills and roads, is an indication of its movement on top of agricultural machinery.
Image 5. Wheat: irrigating with contaminated water from the Santiago River
Potrero Barranquillas, January 11, 2023.
("Rolling" irrigation with river water) Irrigation systems are infrastructures that combine time. In the 19th century, small landowners and ranchers monopolized irrigated land, but peasants won their right to water in the agrarian reform of the 20th century. These systems take advantage of ditches, canals, dikes and dams, some of which date back to the hacienda era, while others were opened during the years of the agrarian reform.
Wheat between tradition and industry
Potrero Barranquillas, January 21, 2023.
(The "stripe" to guide water through the plot) Farmers and irrigators are experts at seeing the terrain and using gravity to direct water into plots to irrigate wheat. This knowledge is passed down through the generations. The liquid for irrigation is extracted or channeled from the Santiago River, in whose channel the companies of the industrial corridor dispose of their toxic waste. As can be seen, "nature" and agriculture are contained by tradition and by industry in little obvious ways.
Image 7. Dependence: monoculture and chemical fertilizers
Potrero Barranquillas, February 23, 2021.
(The two Martins between sacks of urea). Commercial agriculture depends on chemical fertilizers. Between 2021 and 2022 the price of urea in the region reached up to 24 000 pesos per ton; 18 000 pesos according to other sources (Index Mundi 2023). The situation was aggravated by shortages caused by the war between Russia and Ukraine, which started on February 24, 2022.
Image 8. An essential duo: monoculture and nitrogen
Bodega Libertad, San José de Ornelas, June 10, 2023.
(Monsanto's ammonium sulfate and pallets) The urea shortage and the Russia-Ukraine war caused an increase in the price of urea and therefore in production costs per hectare of corn, 5 or 10,000 pesos more than in previous years. In a talk among farmers I heard: the United States is "way ahead of us" because they already have planters and fertilizer applicators that dose the right amount per square meter. In Mexico, on the contrary, they "throw it evenly". Therefore, "the lands that do not need it become better and those that need it become worse because they do not receive the necessary fertilizer" (Diario de campo, May 29, 2022).
Image 9. When assemblies are altered
La Constancia, Zapotlán del Rey, March 27, 2021.
(Farmers see a patrol car pass by) On March 22, 2021, World Water Day, state police destroyed pumping system starter equipment in several of the region's ejidos and delayed irrigation at a critical stage of the wheat cycle. With these actions, the governor of Jalisco, Enrique Alfaro, blamed the farmers for the drinking water supply crisis suffered by the city of Guadalajara and tried to win the sympathy of his governors with the typical resource of confronting the countryside with the city.
Image 10. When assemblies are altered
La Constancia, Zapotlán del Rey, March 27, 2021.
(Organized farmers) The farmers sought dialogue with the government. In the end, it was agreed that the equipment would be restored, but the damage was already done. Harvests were two to three tons per hectare, half or less of the average in normal years. The price of wheat was 4,500 pesos per ton. The income of nine thousand pesos, in the case of harvests of two tons per hectare, is insufficient; it does not even cover half of the production costs.
Image 11. Agave
Potrero Barranquillas, September 15, 2022.
(New crops in the ejido) Drought, state government actions, high prices of agricultural inputs and the expansion of the tequila market led several farmers to rent their plots to agave growers (agaves, agribusinesses and agribusinesses).tequilana Weber). The fever for agave arises in part because of the high price it reached during the 2019-2021 period. According to a report in the online newspaper UDG TVthe price per kilogram of agave [...] exceeded 30 pesos, [30 times more expensive] than in 2006 when it was sold at 1 peso" (García Solís, 2020). In 2024, the price varies between 15 and 8 pesos per kilogram.
Image 12. Eliminate non-valuable species
Potrero Barranquillas, February 21, 2019.
(Preparation of the fumigation tank for wheat) Monoculture implies the systematic elimination of any animal or plant species that "competes" for space and resources with cultivated plants. As Gilles Clément points out, "the eradication of an invasive species is always a failure: it is to affirm that the current state of our knowledge allows us no other recourse than violence" (2021: 19). One of the most widely used post-emergent herbicides in San Miguel Zapotitlán is called Ojiva (Paraquat), further evidence of the war vocabulary that survives in agriculture (Romero, 2022:51).
Image 13. The harvest
Potrero Barranquillas, May 19, 2021.
(The green traces of other species among the wheat) Wheat is harvested in mid-May. This cereal was the flagship of the region's haciendas until the Mexican Revolution of 1910 and became the focus of agronomic science from 1940 onwards (Olsson, 2017: 150). Mexican wheat varieties were exported to countries as far away as India, thus creating more global biotech corridors.
Image 14. The machines
Potrero Barranquillas May 19, 2021.
(Harvester loading wheat onto Dina truck) One of the visible symbols of agrarian modernization in this region is machinery. Since the 1960s, work in the ejidos of Poncitlán has been unimaginable without threshing machines, tractors and trucks. The trucks transport the grains to the factories Barcel, Kellogg's, Bimbo, Ingredion, Cargill or PEPSICO, where they transform the grains into industrial products that are then returned in delivery trucks to the stores where the farmers buy them in the form of merchandise.
Image 15. Paying the maquila
Potrero Barranquillas, June 11, 2021.
(Pay the maquila on time) In the mid-1980s, ejidatarios purchased agricultural machinery for individual use. For various reasons, these farmers gradually lost their machinery until they became dependent on maquiladoras: owners of tractors, seeders, harvesters and other equipment that rent their services to those who require them. This is another reason why smallholdings are in decline.
Image 16. From Mesoamerican corn to hybrid seed
Potrero Barranquillas, June 11, 2021.
(There is something disturbing about the fact that private companies that commercialize hybrid corn seed own "thousands of years of knowledge accumulated by millions of producers" that have been deposited in the seed as "germ plasm" (Warman, 2003: 185). Poncitlán farmers have depended on these companies to purchase seed year after year since the mid-20th century. At that time, the hybrids were called "government corn" (Diario de campo, June 25, 2022).
Image 17. Planting generates tension
Potrero Barranquillas, June 10, 2023.
(Farmers supervise the correct planting of corn) Corn planting begins at the end of May, when the first rains have fallen. Planting generates nervous tensions in farmers because, as one of them commented to me, "We have thrown money into the plots." The investment to produce corn in 2018 was between 20 and 30 000 pesos per hectare (Field Diary, June 2, 2018). During 2023 the investment was around 40 000 pesos per hectare.
Image 18. Planting at the time of need
Potrero Barranquillas, June 10, 2023.
(Corn planting night) You have to look to the sky for signs of the weather. In 2022 a series of storms softened the ejido's soils, then it stopped raining until well into June. The rain caused planting to be delayed and the dryness withered the plants, which were born to be exposed to an inclement sun with barely any moisture. Therefore, planting is done at whatever time is necessary, even at night, because it is imperative to deal with weather changes.
Image 19. Eliminating corn competition
Potrero Barranquillas, June 22, 2022.
(Day laborers refill spray pumps) Day laborers are in direct contact with pesticides. According to one study, 385 million people worldwide fall ill from pesticide poisoning each year (Chemnitz et al., 2022: 18). But the effects of pesticides on human health reach even urban consumers of fruits and vegetables contaminated by invisible residues.
Image 20. Burning
Potrero Barranquillas, June 22, 2022.
(The day laborers eliminate the "mostrenco") The "mostrenco" is the name given to the cornfield that is born from the corn kernels that are not harvested by the harvesting machines. It is a rebellious plant that germinates where it should not: outside the furrow lines. Farmers call the work of eliminating the mostrenco and other weeds "burning", because when the herbicide acts on the plants it dries them, coloring them gold, yellow or white. A grower asked an engineer why science has not invented an agrochemical that definitively ends this problem, to which the engineer answered between truth and jokes: "If we end up with that, what poison are we going to sell them?" (Field Diary, October 18, 2018).
Image 21. Watching the sowing
Potrero Barranquillas, October 31, 2018.
(Above, for a better view of the plots) Farming involves see. This means walking the surface of the plot, lifting the dust, listening for misaligned furrows, pulling dying plants to the surface, pulling weeds, widening a canal with a shovel; feeling sad for the unborn plants. For this looking is a way of knowing the world, "moving it, exploring it, attending to it, always alert to the sign by which it reveals itself" (Ingold, 2000: 55). The "modern" cultivation depends on these "traditional" and sensitive intuitions.
The act of looking in agriculture
Potrero Barranquillas, February 21, 2019.
(Looking at the wheat) The act of looking in the agriculture of San Miguel Zapotitlán is a search for signs of bad entanglements of the multiple species and their seasonality. The farmer looks between the roots and the leaves: If the color is yellowish, it is necessary to fertilize. If the leaves are nibbled, it is because of worms. He is on the lookout for fungus, mayapods or budworms. He is satisfied when most of the plants are glowing dark green and the plant population in the plot looks homogeneous. How different is the observation of modern urban dwellers from that of farmers and peasants?
Image 23. Temporary collapse: teocintle and maize
Potrero Barranquillas, June 22, 2022.
(Teocintle among hybrid maize) The logic of modernization assumes that efficient maize varieties will replace the old, less productive ones. Teocintle, the evolutionary ancestor of corn, grows among modern hybrids on ejido land. This evolutionary "remora" resists herbicides and is visible only when its ears protrude above the corn due to its greater length, which is when farmers pull the plant. Teocintle has been mixed with hybrids such as Pioneer (Inzunza, 2013: 72).
Image 24. Chrono-naut farmers
Potrero Barranquillas, December 19, 2021.
(Harvester emptying grain into a truck) Choosing when to plant and harvest is a delicate decision that depends on weather conditions. If you sow before the onset of the rainy season, the seed will not sprout. If you wait too long, the soil is so soft that it is impossible to plant. If the corn does not dry in time, the winter rains could make harvesting difficult. The farmer becomes a chrono-naut navigating between unsubmissive temporalities, which are churning in the Anthropocene and the Plantation Era.
Image 25. The old new demonstrations
Potrero La Bueyera, October 09, 2018.
(Registration to attend a demonstration) Demonstrations are the old tactics of 20th century extensionism and rural communication. After World War II there was a "need" to increase food production in America, "the consequence was a strong interest in the media". In that context, "persuasion was considered the right weapon" to encourage change and "facilitate the development" of the countryside (Díaz Bordenave, 1976: 136).
Image 26. Demonstrate to sell
Potrero San Juanico, October 18, 2018.
(Engineer demonstrating the filling of the cob) In contrast to the see In the farmer's mind, demonstrations are a display of visual rhetoric aimed at convincing the farmer to buy a product or service. Agricultural engineers (formerly extensionists) are the actors who attempt to overcome the supposed "skepticism" of farm people through tactics grounded in the science of communication.
Image 27. Labels to recognize the hybrid
Potrero San Juanico, October 18, 2018.
(Engineer jokes with farmers) Agribusinesses call these scenes where the benefits of their products are demonstrated to the farmer "showcases" (Field Diary, March 15, 2024). Visual aids are essential, such as this sign indicating the variety planted: Pioneer P3026W, which is associated with DuPont's Dermacor insecticide.
Farmers' sociability and advertising
San Miguel Zapotitlán, November 4, 2022.
(Thank you lunch) Since 2019, Integradora Arca has organized the Expo Foro Maíz Amarillo in San Miguel Zapotitlán in November, a fair that links farmers with agribusinesses, insurers, financial companies and the industrial sector. As the name suggests, it revolves around the complexities of yellow corn production for industrial consumption. After conferences and demonstrations, Integradora Arca offers a meal to attendees, where the companies' colorful promotional items stand out, such as the blue and white caps of Financiera Rural (FIRA).
Image 29. New technologies
San Miguel Zapotitlán, November 04, 2022
(Agricultural drones for sale) In the agribusiness sector, technological determinism persists: it is assumed that new technologies increase production almost immediately. Image 29 shows the latest innovation: the crop spraying drone. Another military device that extends its applications to agriculture and adds to the list of machinism promoted by the futuristic vision of agribusiness (Marez, 2016).
Image 30. The religiosity of the tractor
San Miguel Zapotitlán, September 20, 2023.
(Entrada de Gremios San Miguel Zapotitlán) Although agriculture is a commercial activity abstracted between the past and the future, this does not mean that religious aspects are absent in its operation. Masses for good weather and petitions to San Isidro Labrador, patron saint of farmers, are common in San Miguel Zapotitlán. Religion is an integral part of grain production for the "modern" industry.
Image 31. The religiosity of agrochemicals
Poncitlán, October 09, 2018.
(Entrada de Gremios Poncitlán) Agricultural iconography crosses domains to form part of religious parades and processions. Image 31 shows a giant container of an agrochemical on top of a float that paraded in the "Entrada de Gremios", a parade that opens the feast of the Virgin of the Rosary in Poncitlán, the municipal capital. Agriculture is not only production, it is also visual culture mixed with religion.
Figure 32: The ecuaros: polycultures in oblivion
Cerro el Venadito, San Miguel Zapotitlán, March 22, 2023.
(Commercial agriculture coexists with a polyculture practice called "ecuaro". A farmer defines ecuaro as "a small piece of land to plant vegetables or corn, as if to say: "just a small piece of land to plant vegetables or corn". pa' elotes" (Diario de campo, March 6, 2019). This practice is on the verge of disappearing, although there are still a few farmers who cultivate their ecuaros. In Image 32, an ecuaro can be seen in the dry season and in the distance the plains with wheat.
Image 33. Diversity even in the drought
Cerro el Venadito, San Miguel Zapotitlán, March 22, 2023.
(Ecuaro del tío Conrado) The peasants were expert makers of multi-species arrangements before monoculture. Ecuaros have been characterized as "agroforestry systems" where "a large number of perennial and annual plants, wild and domesticated, [as well as] species with different uses" coexist (Moreno-Calles et al., 2016: 5). In this, polycultures are different from monocultures, where the survival of wheat and corn is assured, but not of other species. Image 33 shows the living fence formed by timber and fruit species.
Image 34. Equaro and clearing
Cerro el Venadito, San Miguel Zapotitlán, March 22, 2023.
Before planting the cornfield, the farmer "cleans" the land. He cuts the species considered weeds, while tolerating other useful plants, with this action he creates the landscape from the existing biodiversity. Image 34 shows the nopal cactus, called blanco, which is highly valued in local cuisine for its flavor and texture.
Image 35. New farmers
San Miguel Zapotitlán, June 16, 2022.
(Mariana planting a new ecuaro) The pandemic publicized the "return to nature" at the level of popular discourse. However, this phenomenon is relatively common in post-industrial societies where "neo-peasants" and "neo-artisans" claim local knowledge and praxis by returning to the rural world from the cities (Chevalier, 1998:176). In Image 34, Mariana covers up the holes - dug with a hand tool called a hoe - where she deposited the seeds in the hope of harvesting.
Old and new associations
San Miguel Zapotitlán, August 24, 2023.
(Association of corn, zinnias, pumpkins and beans) The new farmers learn to cultivate the milpa by listening to the teachings of the old farmers, but also through YouTube videos, which were filmed by people who practice permaculture in Chile or Spain. So the milpa becomes a laboratory of experimentation - as it has been for millennia - where new associations between living beings are assembled and global paths are traced that are different from those of monoculture.
Image 37. Emotive seed selection
San Miguel Zapotitlán, March 9, 2024.
(Mariana selecting the seed) The seeds that are sown in ecuaro agriculture have been selected by farmers for dozens of years. Their genetic history is reason enough to promote their care. Even in the midst of this region where agriculture is becoming more and more technified and commercial, people conserve local varieties of bean, squash and corn seeds, and plant them wherever soil is available. This popular mode of seed conservation could ensure the preservation of native maize.
Image 38. The milpa beyond yields
San Miguel Zapotitlán, March 9, 2024.
(Pumpkin and its seeds next to multicolored cobs) An essential question in agrarian economic history is whether the milpa is productive. If one compares the harvest of the ecuaros with the yield of monocultures, the answer is no. The monoculture is designed to produce massive quantities of raw material for raw material for the monoculture. The monoculture is designed to produce massive quantities of raw material for industry. In comparison, there are not even accurate figures on production in ecuaros. But what is lost in quantity with polycultures, is gained in diversity and wholesomeness: the taste of pumpkins or corn without pesticides is unbeatable. And the relationships between humans and non-humans intensify around the cultivation and sharing of these foods.
Bibliography:
Chemnitz, Christine, Katrin Wenz and Susan Haffman (2022), Pestizidatlas. Data and facts about the facts in the world.Heinrich-Böll-Stiftung; Bund. Friends of The Earth Germany; PAN Germany; Le Monde Diplomatique. Retrieved from: www.boell.de/pestizidatlas.
Chevalier, Michel (1993). "Neo-rural phenomena", in. L'Espace géographique. Spaces, modes of useSpecial issue, pp. 175-191. Retrieved from: https://www.persee.fr/doc/spgeo_0046-2497_1993_hos_1_1_3201
Clément, Gilles (2021). The garden in motion. Barcelona: Gustavo Gili.
Díaz Bordenave, Juan (1976). "Communication of Agricultural Innovations in Latin America.
The Need for New Materials," in Communication Researchvol. 3, no. 2, pp. 135-154.
García Solís, Georgina Iliana (May 8, 2020). Without shortage, blue agave becomes 3 thousand% more expensive. UDG TV. Retrieved from: https://udgtv.com/noticias/sin-desabasto-el-agave-azul-se-encarece-en-3-mil-/168584
Index Mundi (2024). Urea monthly price. Mexican peso per ton. Retrieved from: https://www.indexmundi.com/es/precios-de-mercado/?mercancia=urea&meses=60&moneda=mxn
Ingold, Tim (2000). The Perception of the Environment. Essays on Livehood, Dwelling and Skill.. London: Routledge.
Inzunza Mascareño, Fausto R. (2013). "Hybridization between teocintle and maize in the Ciénega, Jal., Mexico: narrative proposal of the evolutionary process," in. Journal of Agricultural GeographyNo. 50-51, pp. 71-97.
Marez, Curtis (2016). Farm Worker Futurism. Speculative Technologies of Resistance. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Olsson, Tore (2017). Agrarian Crossings. Reformers and the Remaking of the US and Mexican Countryside.. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Romero, Adam (2022). Economic Poisoning. Industrial Waste and the Chemicalization of American Agriculture. Oakland: University of California Press.
Warman, Arturo (2003). Corn and Capitalism. How Botanical Bastard Grew to Global Dominance. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press.
Global manifestations of the Israel-Palestine conflict in anti-war aesthetic images from around the world
Concern over the armed conflict unleashed on October 2023 in the area known as the Gaza Strip has led to mobilizations, takeovers of public spaces and performances around the world. Although it is part of a long-standing territorial conflict between two ethno-national groups, it has become a global concern for different student groups, religious, human rights and political activists who are speaking out against a war that has contravened international agreements and has increased hate speech and attacks on civil society - mainly children and women, the elderly and journalists.
During 2024, the war intensified and expanded its territorial radius beyond Palestine. This situation has given rise to multiple demonstrations that make use of ritualized symbolic expressions to demand a halt to the war and denounce the horrors it provokes. Pro-Palestinian committees have been formed in different cities to oppose the war and denounce what Amnesty International called genocide. On the other hand, tensions have also shifted to public spaces, which has led to police repression of protests.
Due to the importance of this topic in today's time, the magazine Encartes launched an open invitation to participate in the vi photography contest with images capturing objects, subjects, places, landscapes, symbols and aesthetics that have accompanied the mobilizations and demonstrations around the Israel-Palestine war conflict taking place in different universities, public squares, in front of embassies, in national festivities, in political and religious ceremonies and even in parades and other festivities.
The call stated that the images had to cover the following contents: to show the processes of aesthetic creativity that generate anti-war and anti-nationalist manifestations, denouncing violence, using not only words but also staging, installations and shots of emblematic sites and stylistic interventions of symbols, as well as the creation of an iconography of denunciation or the metaphoricity (deconstruction of signs of power) with which the conflicts of race, nation, ethnicity, territory, religion and gender are expressed.
The call was extended to visual artists, filmmakers, researchers, communities, collectives, students of social sciences and humanities to send their photographs accompanied by a descriptive title and caption data (emphasizing the event, the place where it took place, who are the participants and the date), and a short text explaining the expressive meanings of the demonstration.
The response was very good. We received 105 photographs from 21 participants. The photographs received document demonstrations around the Israel-Palestine conflict in nine different cities, showing the impact that this issue has had on a global scale: Guadalajara, Guanajuato, Mexico City, Tijuana, San Cristóbal de las Casas (Chiapas), Santiago de Chile, New York and Los Angeles (United States) and Uruguay. Due to the quality of the images and the strength of the situations they were able to capture with their cameras, it was not easy to make the selection and even less so to decide which ones would get the first places. Thus, we had to establish several criteria to make a selection of 17 photographs: first, we considered the quality of the photograph (framing, aesthetic composition, image resolution); second, we took into account the expressive force of the image (that in itself could generate a message); third, the members of the jury had in mind the narrative as a whole and tried to ensure that the photos chosen would allow us to form a visual narrative that would account for the diversity of situations, places and actors involved in the demonstrations. In this way we were forced to avoid repetition of content and to choose only one photograph when this happened. Five members of the editorial team participated in the selection committee.
We decided to award first place to Elizabeth Sauno's photograph, which shows a demonstrator depicting a Palestinian mother carrying a bloody baby in her arms. The photo was taken during the March for Palestine on December 17, 2023 in Mexico City. Second place was awarded to Rodolfo Ontiveros for the photograph "Fences" which generates the metaphor of the body as a territory lacerated by barbed wire; it was taken on September 5, 2024, during a demonstration on Paseo de la Reforma in Mexico City. We decided to award third place to two photographs: one by Charlie Eherman and the other by José Manuel Martín Pérez. The first author's depicts "Two men, a Palestinian (left) and an Orthodox Jew (right), show peace signs next to the White House in Washington D. C., USA, during a national demonstration" (June 8, 2024, Washington). The second photograph presents how the global action of solidarity with Palestine is articulated with the feminist demands that took place in the already named Plaza de la Resistencia in San Cristóbal de las Casas during the march of March 8, 2024, in the framework of International Women's Day.
Each of the four winning photographs documents a different face of the demonstrations, but, when seen together, they allow us to recognize that the shared symbols give a single voice to people of different nationalities who may not speak the same language. At the same time, they help us to recognize how their installation in different places deploys multiple enunciations, making photography a resource of metaphoricity as a productive matrix to redefine the social (Bhabha, 2011) from the pro-Palestinian demonstrations and against the war actions in the Gaza Strip.
The idea behind the photographic contests organized by Encartes seeks to assemble the images in order to generate a meta-narrative. Each image captures a different local scenario that, when put in relation, allows the narration of different realities articulated by a global aesthetic. These are articulated because they occur in the simultaneity of a historical time even though they are replicated in multiple distant places. At the same time, the singularity of each shot accounts for the multiplicity of actors, scenarios and symbolic expressions that are manifested there. The exercise allows us to circumvent the paradox of political homogeneity and heterogeneity of identity belonging.
The pro-Palestine movement is undoubtedly a transnational mobilization that has produced its own slogans and symbolism. These aesthetic marks and emblems are the lingua franca that articulates a global communitas of an imagined moral community that shares values, although they will never meet or interact face to face (Anderson, 1993); that has in common a sense of grievance and at the same time a sense of commitment. Different pro-Palestinian committees exist in different countries, cities and towns. The slogans of denunciation and symbols are shared representations and build a single voice in simultaneous time throughout the world. For example, kite flying is already an act of empathy with the children of the Palestinian people; the use or representation of the kufiya covering head and neck is already a distinctive element of the Middle East and wearing it places the enunciation of an activist body. The watermelons, whose colors match the Palestinian flag, go hand in hand with the choruses and banners of free Palestine, as do the Palestinian flags.
The interesting thing about representation is that these symbols do not appear in a vacuum: they dress bodies, they are installed in key scenarios to intervene places. The symbols have acquired a powerful metaphoricity with dissident force. For example, the kite reaches its flight in the emblematic building of the National Autonomous University of Mexico or flying over the concrete slab of Mexico City's zocalo (photo by Dzilam Méndez Villagrán). The flag is placed on the sand of a beach, metaphorically restoring the slogan "From the river to the sea" (photo by Pilar Aranda). The flag is intervened with the phrase "Nunca más, nunca nadie" and "ni un@ más" by a Jewish population that places the slogan of opposition to the holocaust on the Palestinian flag, to generate a hybrid of opposition to the war and to dissociate itself from Zionism (photos by Charlie Eherman).
The flag is used to conquer territories. Its placement constitutes representativeness in a regime of unrepresentability (Rancière, 2009). In the different photos selected, the flag generates a regime of visibility of solidarity for Palestine that, when placed in iconic places such as monuments, acquires a metaphorical enunciative power: In front of the Angel of Independence on Reforma Avenue in Mexico City (photo by Elizabeth Sauna), in front of the Glorieta de la Minerva (symbol of justice) in Guadalajara (photo by Christophe Alberto Palomera Lamas), placed on the border wall that divides Mexico and the United States today in what used to be the same territory inhabited by families that were divided by the wall (photo by Marco Vinicio Morales Muñoz). It even extends the enunciation of genocide to other realities, as is the case with the placement of the sign "Stop genocide" on the wall that divides Mexico from the United States (photo by Priscilla Alexa Macías Mojica), extending the clamor to the tightening of immigration policies. Symbols also move to occupy spaces and change their vocation, such as the emblematic Central Station in New York, taken over by demonstrators from the Jewish community (photo by Charlie Eherman); or their presence in the plaza of San Cristobal de las Casas (photo by Jose Manuel Martin Perez) with a wooden cross in the background, representing the indigenous Catholicism of the area.
The flag transgresses territorialities that also leave their territories traced by the States to configure mini-domains in other countries. This is the case of embassies. The photographs of a demonstration outside the Israeli embassy reproduce scenarios and experiences of violent confrontation (photo by Gerardo Vieyra). We see homemade bombs, police fences, fire, fallen bodies. This did not happen in Gaza, but in Mexico, in the territory of the Israeli embassy; but also in the center of Mexico City, in front of the Guardiola building, which houses the Bank of Mexico (photo by Ana Rodríguez). Territories are made by practicing them and the doors of the Guadalajara International Book Fair during the last month of November acquire the notoriety of an international forum and, therefore, of visibility beyond the local (photo by Pilar Aranda).
Symbols linked to different bodies also generate intersections between various activisms: they gain and expand the demands when they are linked to the feminist movement or when they are articulated with the demands for the recognition of transsexuals; or the resymbolization achieved by placing the already recognized mustache of Hitler, the exterminator of the Jews, on the portrait of Benjamin Netanyahu, current Prime Minister of Israel.
We invite you to sharpen your gaze to read the multiple realities generated by the aesthetic interventions in favor of Palestine captured by the lenses of photographic cameras and, at the same time, to allow yourself to enjoy the marvelous photos that make up this visual essay.
Renée de la Torre
March for Palestine 17 Dec 2023 CDMX
Elizabeth Sauno, Mexico City, December 17, 2023.
Mobilization in solidarity with Palestine, from the Angel of Independence to the Zocalo, Mexico City.
Fences
Rodolfo Oliveros, Paseo de la Reforma, CDMX, September 5, 2024.
Two young men march through Palestine holding hands; the body is the territory encircled by the State of Israel.
One year of genocide, 76 years of occupation.
José Manuel Martín Pérez, Plaza de la Resistencia, San Cristóbal de Las Casas, Chiapas, Mexico, March 8, 2024.
On March 8, in the framework of International Women's Day, the feminist movement in Chiapas joined the global action in solidarity with Palestine.
Symbols of peace in the capital.
Charlie Ehrman, Washington DC, June 8, 2024
Two men, a Palestinian (left) and an Orthodox Jew (right), display peace signs next to the White House in Washington DC, USA, during a national demonstration.
Pro-Palestinian Minerva
Christophe Alberto Palomera Lamas, Mobilization in solidarity with Palestine. Glorieta la Minerva, Guadalajara, Jalisco. Committee of Solidarity with Palestine GDL. November 12, 2023.
La Minerva, an emblematic symbol of Guadalajara, has been a meeting point to celebrate the identity of Guadalajara, but also to protest. Spectator of the search for justice and strength gives opening to the first mobilizations of the Committee of Solidarity with Palestine GDL. November 12, 2023.
Boy with kite in the Zócalo square
Dzilam Méndez Villagrán, Mexico City Zócalo, January 14, 2024.
A symbolic act to express support for the children of Gaza through the making of kites, held in the Zócalo square in Mexico City.
A light for Palestine
Sandra Suaste Avila, Mexico City, November 5, 2023.
A group of academics and activists demonstrate and offer cempasúchil flowers, candles, bread and the wish for an end to the violence in the Gaza Strip. Mexican women remember Palestinian women.
Stop genocide
Priscila Alexa Macías Mojica, Tijuana, Baja California, June 1, 2024.
Poster placed on the U.S.-Mexico border fence in a cross-border art and community activity.
Global action for Rafah in Mexico
Gerardo Vieyra, Mexico City, May 28, 2024.
On Tuesday, May 28, 2024, students from various universities and social organizations in support of Palestine, demonstrated outside the Israeli Embassy in Mexico City, in rejection of the Israeli attacks that arrived that day to the center of Rafah, south of the Gaza Strip, the same day that Ireland, Spain and Norway recognized the State of Palestine and despite international condemnation for a bombing of a camp for displaced persons. According to data from human rights organizations, more than 46,000 people have died in Palestine and a large number of people have been wounded with serious health repercussions.
Looking down on the resistance from the 10th floor.
María Fernanda López López, UNAM Ciudad Universitaria, Mexico City, May 2024.
View of the encampment and monumental painting written on the esplanade of the central library of the UNAM, carried out by the members of the university student encampment in support of Palestine.
A break at Grand Central, no more war.
Charlie Ehrman, Manhattan, New York, October 27, 2023.
Hundreds of demonstrators from the Jewish Voice for Peace organization occupied the concourse of Grand Central Station in Manhattan, New York, to stop passenger traffic and demonstrate for a cease-fire in the conflict between Israel and Hamas.
March 8M CDMX
Elizabeth Sauno, Mexico City, March 8, 2024.
During the March 8 march in Mexico City, there were contingents in solidarity with Palestine, where sexual dissidents showed their support for the Palestinian cause.
Day of the Dead CDMX 30 Oct 2024.
Elizabeth Sauno, October 30, 2024, Mexico City.
As part of the Day of the Dead, journalists gathered at the Angel of Independence to make visible the journalists who have lost their lives in the coverage of Israel's military escalation against the Palestinian people.
Stop genocide, a collective cry.
Ana Ivonne Rodríguez Anchondo, Mexico City, May 15, 2024.
Youth in front of police blockade at the Guardiola building, during the demonstrations for the 76th anniversary of the Palestinian Nakba, in Mexico City.
Handala in the corner of the world.
Marco Vinicio Morales Muñoz, Tijuana, Baja California, Mexico, February 13, 2025.
Handala, a symbol of the Palestinian people, is depicted on the Tijuana border wall along with other aesthetic elements and anti-war graphic designs that refer to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
Censorship in the media and shouting in the streets
Ilze Nava, Zócalo de la CDMX, February 17, 2024.
Demonstration for Free Palestine 2024.
Journalists at FIL
Pilar Aranda, Expo, Guadalajara (FIL), December 5, 2024.
On the occasion of the XX International Meeting of Journalists, a protest was held in the vicinity of the International Book Fair in Guadalajara, it is reported that in the "conflict" there are close to 200 journalists murdered.
Bibliography
Anderson, Benedict (1993). Imagined communities. Reflections on the origin and spread of nationalism.. Mexico: FCE.
Bhabha, Homi K (2011). The place of culture. Buenos Aires: Spring.
Rancière, Jacques (2009). The distribution of the sensitive. Santiago de Chile: lom.
Photographing a Ritual Process: An Approach to the Agency of Xantolo Masks
Pablo Uriel Mancilla Reyna
The College of San Luis
is a doctoral candidate in the Anthropological Studies Program at El Colegio de San Luis. His research interests are ritual, visual anthropology, religious practices and the anthropology of art. She is part of the Visual Anthropology Laboratory of El Colegio de San Luis (LAVSAN).
Image 1. Chapulhuacanito: place of grasshoppers and masks.
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2022
During the days of the Xanto festival, the center of Chapulhuacanito is decorated for the attraction of the townspeople and visitors.
This year we hope that the delegation arranges it well, because the Xantolo is Chapulhuacanito's big party.
Participant of the costumed group of the San José neighborhood.
Image 2. Seed for St. John's day
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2019
The cempasúchil flower that is placed on the domestic altars during Xantolo is left to dry and its seeds will be sprinkled on June 24 (St. John the Baptist's Day) of the following year. On that day they go out to their backyards and sprinkle the seeds that will give them that year's Xantolo flower.
Image 3. Tamales for the offering
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. October 2023
During the descent of masks and the days of Xantolo, the women organize themselves to make the tamales that they will offer and that will be the food for the participants of the costumed group, who will come to eat them when they finish dancing in the streets of the community.
Making tamales is one of the most important tasks and is the support of the Xantolo ritual process at the time of offering and exchanging food.
Image 4. Domestic altar
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November of 2019.
I'll be waiting for you for Xantolo so you can take a picture of me with the altar I'm going to put up here in the house," said don Barragan.
Excerpt from my field diary
In the houses a domestic altar is set up and dedicated to the deceased members of the family. Here food is placed and an offering is made, sometimes a mask is also placed, referring to their participation in a costumed group.
Image 5. Not saying thank you
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2019
In the domestic offerings are placed the food that will be smoked and then eaten. In Chapulhuacanito, during the days of Xantolo, people eat what they put on the altar. When you are invited to ofrendar (consume the food on the altar), you do not have to say thank you because the food was prepared for the deceased and you are the only vehicle that consumes it in its material form.
Image 6. The descent of the devil
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2023.
In the first lowering of masks it is crucial to lower the devil masks with bent horns and standing horns. These are received by a past businessman who, upon taking them, blows copal from the sahumerio.
Image 7. The clown
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2022.
In addition to the traditional pink masks of the San José neighborhood, there are others that lead participants to create other types of characters.
This year they don't know what I'm going to dress up as, and I don't want to tell anyone because they'll copy it later.
Participant of the San José neighborhood group
Image 8. The photographer
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2019.
We were at the businessman's house while everyone was preparing their costumes, when Toño arrived and told me: "You don't know what I'm going to dress up as, you're going to be surprised, Uriel".
Excerpt from my field diary
One of the qualities of the costume is that it can include elements of what they see or is happening at the time. In that case, one of the costumed decided to include my work as an anthropologist/photographer in the way I would appear during those days.
Image 9. Game of glances
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2019.
After Toño's camera was destroyed, only the lens was preserved. The playful character of the Xantolo achieved a game of looks in which the look and the way of doing it were exposed.
Image 10. Music for the masks
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2019.
The music of the Huapango trio is crucial in the descent of the masks of each of the costumed groups. When the trio arrives at the empresario's house, it begins to play "El canario" for the masks. In addition, he accompanies the masqueraders to their dance through the streets of the community during the four days of the festival.
Image 11. The devil in the mural
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. May 2023.
One of the most relevant masks in Chapulhuacanito is that of the devil. This is because the shape, figure and image of this mask is the way the devil appeared in this community. For this reason some murals have been dedicated to highlight the importance of this image.
Image 12. "We have to start playing cuetes". El Gordo, second businessman of the San José neighborhood.
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. March 2013.
In addition to the music, another fundamental sound aspect is the rocket or, as the people say: "echar cohete". Its thunder in the sky creates a festive atmosphere that serves to warn a large part of the community where they are preparing for the offerings, the lowering of masks or that the costumed are getting ready to go out into the streets of the community.
Image 13. "Touching the floor means that the past is already here among the living". Cecilio, a former businessman from the San José neighborhood.
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. October 2023.
During the first mask lowering, only seven main masks are lowered. In this case, the crouching horned devil, the standing horned devil, the older cole, the grandfather, the grandmother, the mask of the second businessman and the mask of the chiflador were lowered. After lowering them from the false ceiling of the house where they are kept, it is necessary that the masks touch the ground, which is a sign that the deceased are already on the earthly plane, where we, the living, live.
Image 14. "In the first descent it is something intimate with few people, and in the second descent it is big". El Gordo, second businessman of the San José neighborhood.
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. October 2023.
For the second descent of masks, the group of costumed people from the San José neighborhood organizes and sets up chairs to wait for about 50 people, sometimes there are more. All the people are offered tamales, coffee, chocolate and soft drinks.
Image 15. Transmissions
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2023.
The second descent of masks can be such a big event, that businessmen manage the transmission of the ritual. Sometimes it is only given through social networks and other times they take the community radio so that it can broadcast.
Image 16. Mask heights
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. October 2023.
The altars where the masks are placed are usually larger than the domestic altars. This leads to a greater elaboration of the arch and cempasúchil flower necklaces. Making a bow for the lowering of masks carries a signifier of prestige and pride.
Image 17. Have your costume ready to go out.
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2019.
The participants of the costumed group meet at the businessman's house where they take their mask and prepare their costume. In some occasions they take clothes that are already in the place of the masks and that are used year after year, in others they wear their own clothes. In addition to disguising themselves with masks, some men also dress up as women to make couples when dancing.
Image 18. The new generations
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2019.
If you notice, this group brings a lot of children, many of them are attracted by it and come here, and that's good because they are the new generations. I used to walk like them since I was little, behind the costumes.
El Gordo
Image 19. Small mask
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2019.
I have already made my son a small mask, which fits him well and can be used for the Xantolo.
Chilo, community masquerader
Image 20. Sweat
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. October 2019.
Imagine all that a mask has gone through inside, it has the sweat and energy of many people who have worn it.
Óscar, disguised as the neighborhood of San José
Image 21. The descent from the school
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. October 2023.
Each of the masks that is lowered has to be smoked before being placed on the floor and given aguardiente to drink.
Image 22. Passing the drink
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. October 2023.
Deliver and receive: these are words used in the lowering of masks and consist of a dialogue between present and past businessmen, in which sharing a drink (aguardiente) is fundamental during the ritual, to strengthen the process in which they welcome the deceased.
Image 23. Sahumar not to go crazy
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. September 2018.
During the lowering of masks, it is necessary that all the people attending the ritual pass by to smoke them. This will prevent them from going crazy, which consists in not falling asleep and listening to the disguised people. In case of going crazy, the entrepreneur has to carve a mask and give to drink the powder that comes out with aguardiente.
Image 24. Óscar's unveiling
Chapulhuacanito, Tamazunchale, S.L.P. Mexico. November 2019.
In the unveiling, when one takes off the mask, I feel sad that I will not return until next year.
Oscar
Of Zamorano insomnia. What is not talked about, but what the night allows to be shown
Laura Roush
El Colegio de Michoacán
likes to walk at night and during the pandemic began documenting aspects of the night in Zamora, Michoacán, where she lives. She holds a PhD in anthropology from the New School for Social Research and teaches at El Colegio de Michoacán.
Image 1. Zamorano's insomnia. What is not talked about, but what the night allows to show.
Entrance hall in Jardines de Catedral, Zamora, Michoacan. Mural by Marcos Quintana, 2019
Image 2. Pandemic novena
Colonia El Duero, Zamora, December 2000
Image 3. "When the Merza closes at eleven o'clock, I want you back here".
Parish of St. Peter and St. Paul, Infonavit Arboledas. 22 hours and 55 minutes. January 2020.
Image 4. Chiras pelas. At night the streets and sidewalks cool down and you can play more fun. Some neighborhoods in the city offer the conditions for children to enjoy nightlife all year round.
Cathedral Gardens, Zamora, 2018.
Image 5. On Christmas and a few other holidays, the schedule rules are suspended.
Cathedral Gardens, December 24, 2020, almost midnight.
Picture 6
Cathedral Gardens, Zamora, New Year, 2021.
When the Douro River was diverted, segments of its former course became curved streets, sometimes narrow and with few connections to other streets.
La Lima, July 2023.
The narrow and curved streets of the old course of the Duero allow the continuation of the custom of street altars because they protect them from traffic. However, they say, because of the violence and disrespect, many now prefer to set them up inside the houses and publicly visible altars are scarce.
Day of the Dead, 2020, La Lima.
Image 9. Traffic goes down, kids go in and cats come out.
Colonia El Duero, September 2023.
Image 10. Already locked up
Jacinto López, January 2021.
Image 11. Day of the Dead Altar
Infonavit Arboledas, 2021
Image 12. A multi-family altar housing memories of an entire street
Arboledas Third Section, Day of the Dead, 2021
Image 13. "What hurts is the fucking killing".
Day of the Dead, 2021, La Lima
Image 14. Two fallen from the same family. Suddenly, the third one was killed
The Douro, July 2021
Image 15. "It's just that he was in it".
The Douro, July 2021
Image 16. "No one understands. But if you isolate yourself, you can go crazy."
Zamora, October 2022 (photo); conversation about the purpose of these photos, October 2023.
She wanted to remain anonymous, but she also wanted her children to be seen, for one might be alive somewhere.
Image 17. Altar to Saint Jude Thaddeus
Same place as in the previous image, Zamora, October 2022.
The situation of women who had to take on these tasks due to the kidnapping-disappearance, imprisonment or clandestinity of their partners is intrinsically different....
The situation of terror in which they lived required various forms of concealment, even of personal pain. It included trying to get the children to go about their daily activities as if nothing had happened in order to avoid suspicion. Fear and silence were constantly present, with a very high emotional cost.
Elizabeth Jelin, anthropologist, on the Dirty War in Argentina (2001:105)
If I die today, and God gives me the opportunity to be born again, I would ask only one thing, that you, Rossy, be my mother again. I love you, little one. Thank you for being my mommy."
Avenida Virrey de Mendoza, January 2021.
Picture 19
Arboledas Second Section, October 2023
There is a great stigma attached to missing persons. In Zamora, the population has internalized the phrase "he was up to something" to justify any crime against humanity. I believe that this is a reflection of the fact that we have lost the ability to empathize with the pain of others, we think that violence is a reasonable means to punish or resolve conflicts, and it also gives us a false sense of security, since it will not happen to me, only to the other, to the one who is "up to something".
This symbolic violence exercised by the population has had various repercussions on the victims of forced disappearance and murder, and their relatives, in the search for truth and justice. It would seem that, if the victim had any link with illicit activities, to search for them, to demand justice or their appearance alive, would be illegitimate in the eyes of society, but also of their relatives, who out of shame or "lacking moral authority", are forced to live in fear and silence.
Itzayana Tarelo, anthropologist, personal communication, Zamora, October 2023.
Picture 20
Guadalupano Shrine, Zamora Centro, July 2023
What level of violent deaths is socially acceptable? If we aspire to a death rate of 9.7 intentional homicides per one hundred thousand inhabitants, registered at the beginning of Felipe Calderón's government, or 17.9 when his administration ended, the 39 murders in Zamora and 15 in Jacona, in April alone, are a lot.
But if we compare with the 196.63 (per hundred thousand) publicized by the national press, according to the report of the Citizens' Council for Public Safety and Criminal Justice (March 11, 2022), then "we are doing well", since 39 murders per month would result in 468 per year, slightly above the 401 that result from an annual rate of 196.63%. Ah, but if we compare with the 57 intentional homicides in Zamora and the 21 in Jacona noted in December 2021, April is going down!"
José Luis Seefoo (2022)
Image 21. Asphalt up to the very trunk
Avenida del Arbol, May 2023.
A saleswoman from hot dogs she told me how two murderers waited for their victims among the trees. Although the ones she mentioned were just rickety ficus trees; to her, they added to the darkness of the scene. She went on to relate other murders in the area, including one on the next street. Drug addicts hung out there, she said, until several large trees were cut down. When I insisted, he acknowledged that the military rounds began around that time. However, she stuck to the fact that the trees were the main factor. For this lady, the trees were metonymically linked to danger and crime.
For an ex-taxi driver, these were thugs themselves. He told me of a dead tree that fell on top of a car, killing the parents and orphaning the children riding in the back seat. "No tree bigger than a person should be allowed!" he insisted. We also talked about the homicides that day, but he saved his indignation for the trees. When those responsible cannot be named for fear of reprisal, even trees can be a focus for articulating anxiety.
Rihan Yeh (2022) The Border as War in Three Ecological Images
(The border as war in three ecological images)
Image 22.
Avenida del Arbol, June 2023.
Picture 23
Day of the Dead, 2020, Colonia El Duero
The homicides, stated as 'confrontations', are in reality forms of manhunts of marginalized youths. Both victims and direct killers do not occupy high positions on the social ladder.
Thus, as long as the pain of loss and the smell of incense invade the homes of popular neighborhoods, intentional homicides will not drop sufficiently. If wakes and funerals were to take place in "residential" spaces, we should expect important changes...
Anonymous (textual)
Picture 24
Colonia El Duero, January 2022
Image 25. The food stalls with their lights summon from afar to live with neighbors or strangers, a nocturnal sociability that does not give up.
El Duero, January 2022
Image 26. Just called "The Metataxis": it gathers information from all cab drivers.
The Douro, February 2021
His hamburger stand is the one that closes most nights. He has the gift of getting watchmen, watchmen, policemen, hospital staff, taqueros who have already set up their stalls and who have also heard something, and a whole range of people who can't sleep for some reason.
Cab driver committed to the night shift and occasional diner at the hamburger stand.
Colonia El Duero, October 2022
After midnight, the conversation often becomes more philosophical. Bits of news that will never make it into a newspaper are gathered.
Image 28. Another member of the night owls' gathering. Topic: What is the fault of the night if you are killed during the day?
Colonia El Duero, 2022
Image 29
Zamora Centro, March 2023.
On March 5 we went out to march in Zamora for 8M. I was accompanying the contingent of women searchers and we were gluing, with paste, the cards of the missing persons. A few days later I passed by those streets again and I saw that they had tried to tear them up.
A friend of mine told me that in Queretaro the public cleaning people were instructed to remove all kinds of propaganda or posters and that is why they tore off the missing persons' cards. I suppose they do the same thing here, although sometimes the advertisement of an event lasts longer on a wall than the face of a missing person.
Anonymous, Zamora, October 2023
Image 30
Zamora Centro, August 2023.
To the perpetrators of the violence, the searching mothers have said "We don't want the guilty ones, we only want our children". With the celebration of masses and vigils in which prayers are said and candles are lit with the photo of their family member, the mothers seek God to soften the hearts of those who took their sons and daughters, not to abandon them in their search and to protect their family member wherever he or she may be.
Anonymous, Zamora (textual), October 2023
Image 31
Zamora, April 2023
We accompany ourselves with Our Lady's sorrow today, in the hope that she will be moved with us.
Anonymous, ending the Women's March of Silence
The March of Silence in the Catholic world is typically a procession of men commemorating the death of Christ on Good Friday. The Women's March of Silence has grown in parts of Latin America in recent years. In some, as in Zamora, it provides a language for some of the mothers of missing or dead young people.
Image 32. Panther
Colonia El Duero, October 2020
These pains have no words. One keeps silent more out of modesty than fear. Crying screams and one hides the tears. All loss does not want to show itself impudently.
One closes oneself and keeps silent while one's heart burns, either for love or for absence. Impotence hurts and one knows that there is no return or solution. Poetics can only murmur. The anthropologist sometimes errs on the side of exhibitionism and fills with theoretical frameworks what hurts to mention.
The Douro Panther (textual), October 2023
Image 33. Anonymous. She made this figure representing her husband after he was killed.
Zamora, November 2023
Image 34
Bank of the Douro river course
Four months ago (May 30, 2023) a teenager was killed in my neighborhood when he was going to pick up his girlfriend at CBTIS. Rumors said it was for stealing his cell phone. Some guys on a motorcycle chased him and shot him many times, until he fell dead on the corner of a vacant lot, where people throw garbage.
A few days after he was murdered, his family put up a small metal cross, some plastic flowers and a candle, but someone came by and tore the cross down and people threw garbage there again.
My mother told me that she felt bad that the boy didn't have a cross, so she made him another one with some pieces of wood she found in the yard. She put it up and, days later, she found it lying in the vacant lot, as if someone had thrown it. We think that this could only have been done by the person or persons who killed him, that the cause of his death was personal and not a robbery, as it was said.
We feel that it was a matter of hatred, of a lot of anger against the boy, because they did not respect the place where he died, nor the crosses. I feel that there was a desire to erase him, to erase his memory.
Anonymous (verbatim), October 2023
Image 35
March 29, 2024
The Women's March of Silence grew exponentially; the municipal government estimated that 15,000 people participated.
Silence was strictly maintained, punctuated only by drums with a slow, synchronized rhythm between contingents. Likewise, other signs were discarded and only those that reminded to remain silent were kept.
Image 36
Guadalupana Shrine of Zamora, March 29, 2024
They were received by their rector, Father Raúl Ventura, who congratulated them because "Zamora is consolidating its position as a leader in religious tourism.
Image 37
Avenida Virrey de Mendoza, January 2022
Where language must be imprecise, a flame in the night communicates, even if it is difficult to know who put it there or to whom it is addressed. To the dead man himself, of course; to God.
Image 38. During the day they are not even seen. At night they acquire convening power
Hidalgo Market, September 2022.
Image 39. It hurts. See it
Jacinto López, October 2022.
The author would like to publicly acknowledge the support and patience of her colleagues at the Centro de Estudios Antropológicos, Colmich; the collaborations of Itzayana Tarelo and Reynaldo Rico Ávila to think the narrative arc from a hundred photos or more; the enthusiasm of Renée de la Torre, Paul Liffman, Melissa Biggs and Gabriela Zamorano, as well as the complicity of Ramona Llamas Ayala.
Dedicated to the memory of Julio César Segura Gasca, alias the FUA (1967-2024), poet of the Zamorano night.
Bibliography
Citizen's Council for Public Safety and Criminal Justice (2022). "Ranking 2021 of the 50 most violent cities in the world." https://geoenlace.net/seguridadjusticiaypaz/webpage/archivos Accessed: August 2023.
Jelin, Elizabeth (2001). The work of memoryMadrid: Siglo xxi.
Seefoo Luján, José Luis (2022). "Zamora va... muy bien?", Semanario. Guide. https://semanarioguia.com/2022/04/jose-luis-seefoo-lujan-zamora-va-muy-bien/
Yeh, Rihan (2022) "The Border as War in Three Ecological Images," in Editors' Forum: Ecologies of War, thematic issue, in. Cultural Anthropology. January. https://culanth.org/fieldsights/series/ecologies-of-war
Sweet saints: devotions to Cosmas and Damian in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Renata Menezes
is a professor in the Anthropology Department of the National Museum, Federal University of Rio de Janeiro (ufrj). D. (2004) and M.A. (1996) in Social Anthropology from the Graduate Program in Social Anthropology of the National Museum, ufrj (ppgas/mn/ufrj). Coordinator of the Laboratory of Anthropology of the Playful and the Sacred of the National Museum (Ludens). Researcher at the Conselho Nacional de Desenvolvimento Científico e Tecnológico - Conselho Nacional de Desenvolvimento Científico e Tecnológico.cnpq and Faperj's "Cientista do Nosso Estado". renata.menezes@mn.ufrj.br
Morena Freitas
is an anthropologist at the Superintendence of the Institute of National Historical and Artistic Heritage (Instituto del Patrimonio Histórico y Artístico Nacional (iphan) in Sergipe, Brazil. Researcher at the Laboratory of Anthropology of the Playful and the Sacred (Ludens/...).mn/ufrj). D. in Social Anthropology from the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro. morebmfreitas@gmail.com
Lucas Bártolo
D. student at the Graduate Program in Social Anthropology of the National Museum of the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro (ppgas/mn/ufrj), Brazil. Researcher at the Laboratory of Anthropology of the Playful and the Sacred (Ludens/...), Brazil.mn/ufrj). Master in Social Anthropology from the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro. bartolo.lucas@mn.ufrj.br
Virtual exhibition poster Sweet Saints: Devotions to Cosmas and Damian in Rio de Janeiro
Leear Martiniano, 2020
During the months of September and October, Cosme, Damien, Doum and the ibejadas circulate and are exhibited in religious stores.
Thiago Oliveira, 2015.
Since the beginning of September, the shop windows announce the arrival of the season of saints' sweets. Until October 25, the day of Crispim and Crispiniano, passing through October 12, Children's Day, a festive-religious calendar is established in the city of Rio de Janeiro around the celebration of childhood. In the religious articles stores, the images of Ibejadas, Cosme, Damião and Doum are the most sought after in this period, when the terreiros and churches are used to celebrate children.
White candies, typical candies, sweet pots, traditional candies, industrialized candies, homemade candies... Welcome to the incredible world of candies! Coconut candy, sigh, paçocajujube, lollipop, milk candy, peanuts (pé de moleque) and pumpkin. Many of these sweets only appear on the shelves once a year, in September: they are the typical sweets of Cosme y Damián.
There are those who like to give more than just candy, mainly toys.
Thiago Oliveira, 2015.
In celebrations organized by a larger group of devotees - in the street or in neighborhood clubs - or by the community of a terreiroThe toys can be more special, such as bicycles and remote-controlled cars, and recreational activities and games are scheduled throughout the day. Distributions take on a charitable dimension when school supplies, food and clothing are also donated.
The assembly requires the development of a technique, without renouncing affection.
Thiago Oliveira, 2015.
The assembly technique is a family apprenticeship, in most cases through the maternal line.
Thiago Oliveira, 2015, Vaz Lobo.
At home, families usually organize themselves in an assembly line: candies are taken out of the packages and placed on the table, and each person is in charge of putting one or more types in a bag, which is passed from hand to hand until it reaches the person in charge of closing it with a stapler or a ribbon. Ideally, each bag should have the same amount and type of candy as the others, so that no child is harmed. And the saints are watching! But the bags can't be assembled too far in advance because the candy can melt. Once the bags are filled and closed, it's time to separate the ones that will go to the neighbor, the nephew, the work friend's daughter. There are people who have been giving for decades, there are those who are starting now, to greet the arrival of a baby, and there are those who continue practices inherited from their ancestors.
Far beyond the candy, Cosme y Damián's bags also contain promises, family traditions and childhood memories.
Thiago Oliveira, 2015.
The sachet with the effigy of the twin saints is considered the most traditional, whether it is made of paper or plastic.
Lucas Bártolo, 2016.
For many, the saints also participate in the celebration, eating the sweets. Cocadas, suspiros, pumpkin candies, etc. are also offered. Many Cosme y Damián altars contain candies and soft drinks as offerings.
As they are associated with the orixás twins, Cosmas and Damian also eat the food of the gods. In addition to sweets, the saints eat caruru, omolocum, acarajé and chicken. At home or in the terreiros.
Offerings to Cosmas, Damian and Doum in a religious articles store.
Thiago Oliveira, 2015.
Offerings to the saints in the Roman Catholic Church
Renata Menezes, 2012.
Offerings to the saints e orixás in a terreiro
Lucas Bártolo, 2016, Cavalcanti.
The big day is approaching. Tickets and invitations are distributed to avoid crowds and alternate distribution in the neighborhood. Information about the houses that distribute the bags of candy circulates among the children, who begin to draw an affective (and sweet) map of the city.
In groups, led by the eldest or even by an adult, the children leave home early and spend the day roaming the streets, running after candy. The party draws an affective map of the city, delimited by strong or weak candy places, near or far from home, where there are good or bad bags. The bags are distributed at doorways, in squares, in churches and shrines, in schools, daycare centers and orphanages, on foot or by car. Families gather to drink and give sweets. Some like to celebrate the day as if it were the birthday of the twin saints, opening the house and arranging a table with cake, guarana, blancmange and sweets. In small bags or on the tables, the sweets are, on the 27th, food for the saints and the children. The day of Cosme and Damian is a playful experience of the city.
Running after candy: a playful experience of the city
Correio da Manhã/Arquivo Nacional, September 1971.
Thiago Oliveira, 2015.
Early in the morning, the sound of the first sneakers crunching as they race through the streets heralds the start of another day on September 27. It is an extraordinary occasion when the children take on an autonomy that they will probably only really have when they are no longer children. In groups, led by the eldest or even by an adult, the children leave home early in the morning and spend the day running through the streets, or rather, running after candy.
In several neighborhoods of the city, we find patterns of grouping that can be compared to old photos, like the one we see below. There is a pattern that seems to repeat itself, in a movement of children through the streets of the city that sets adults and children in motion.
The party as a moment of anonymous and generous (and sweet) exchange with the unknown.
Isabela Pillar, 2013.
"I will give the candies at the door to the street children." This is how many devotees answer us when we ask them how they are going to make their feast. Cosme and Damien Day puts the focus on the relationship between the home and the street and puts its boundaries in suspense. It is a moment of anonymous and generous exchange with the unknown.
Among the various ways of giving sweets, the most widespread is the distribution through the door of houses and buildings. The devotees try to organize a queue, giving preference to lap children and pregnant women, but, in general, there is a small commotion in front of the houses. Another very popular modality is that of "throwing the candies forward", throwing them over the wall to the small crowd. Some donors stand out precisely for this practice, throwing not only candy, but also toys and money.
Recap of the day's achievements
Thiago Oliveira, 2015.
Lying about their age, not being recognized when they try to get two bags in the same house, knowing where the best bags are, asking for candy in the name of a supposed younger sibling... these are tricks that children use to get the most candy. It's part of the game to get the adults to bend, who warn: It's a bag for everyone! I only give candy to little kids! Anyone who goes out with anyone is no longer a child.
The festival is a playful and religious tradition that consists of a great game
Lucas Bártolo, 2014.
The smiles of the children are, for some, the great reward of the party..
Thiago Oliveira, 2015.
Isabela Pillar, 2013.
The smile of the children is, for some, the great reward of the party - if we wanted to talk about the possible interests of giving candy, it would certainly appear as the main desired retribution for the act of giving. But children are not just guests at the party: multiple, diverse, also make it. If with adults children learn to be grateful for the bags earned and also to distribute them, it is in the company of friends that they develop the tricks to take candies, especially to take them more than once in the same house.
Some people like to celebrate the day as if it were the birthday of the saints, opening the house and organizing a table with cake, guarana, manjar, sweets and many colorful balls. The delicacies can only be offered to the guests after singing happy birthday to Cosme and Damien and serving the seven children gathered around the cake. At these tables, the presence of twins is considered a blessing. From the sequence of photos, it can be seen that many families have been doing this practice for decades.
A domestic celebration to Cosme and Damian
Personal collection of Glória Amaral, 1990 (estimated date).
Novenas, masses, baptisms and processions mark the program of the churches of the different branches of Catholicism (Roman, Orthodox, Coptic) that receive thousands of devotees on September 27, who also distribute candies, toys and food to children and needy people. Many religious traditions have the practice of charity and help as fundamental values and on the day of Cosmas and Damian, the donations made in these spaces are a way of putting these values into practice.
Donation of toys and food at St. George, St. Cosmas and St. Damian's Orthodox Catholic Church
Thiago Oliveira, 2015.
Multiform characters, Cosimo and Damian can be presented as Catholic martyrs, physicians, twins, orixás African, child protectors or child entities, among other conceptions about them that also appear combined. They are present in many pantheons, assuming specificities in each of these contexts.
In Brazil, the devotion to the saints was associated with African traditions of twin worship, highlighting the hybridization with the Ibejis, orixás children protectors of twins in the Yoruba tradition. It is from the approach of Cosimo and Damian to Ibeji that their functions were redefined: from protectors of doctors and pharmacists to protectors of children, of double births and of the health of twins. In the Brazilian religious universe, saints were linked to childhood, hence the distribution of sweets to children as a way of celebrating them.
In Catholic churches, the saints may be young or adult, identical or different twins.
Thiago Oliveira, 2015.
Ana Ranna, 2013.
The saints are now three. Idowú, younger brother of the Yoruba twins Ibeji, here in Brazil is Doum, brother of Cosme and Damián.
Thiago Oliveira, 2015
Ibejis, the orixás ninõs of the Yoruba tradition, protectors of ninõs and twins.
Lucas Bártolo, 2015.
The saints are now three. Idowú, younger brother of the Yoruba twins Ibeji, here in Brazil is Doum, brother of Cosme and Damián.
Thiago Oliveira, 2015
The sacred sweetness of the Children
Morena Freitas, 2016.
The sacred sweetness of the saints, of the ibejadas and of the children is venerated with sighs, cocadas, candies, cakes and guaraná. This sweetness smells, sounds, colors, melts our hands, invades our noses and mouths; and to feel this sweetness is to feel the Children.
Devotion to the saints implies an intense communication that goes through looks, gestures, words and things and involves affection, emotions and desires. Devotion unfolds, therefore, far beyond the bags of candy..
Lucas Bártolo, 2019.
Thiago Oliveira, 2015
EN 
ES 
FR 
PT