11.5 Yucunama
Yucunama
We finished up in Yucuita faster than we?d expected. We had read that there was an interesting museum in the town of Yucunama that was another half hour or so past Yucuita. It was supposed to have the original of a Mixtec document in it, and the guide book said it also had a nice little restaurant. We were pretty hungry, and frankly, really thirsty so off we went. We drove along Rt 190, now a road we know pretty well, to where 125 branches off, and took a dirt road uphill to Yucunama.
It was like a ghost town when we got there. No one in sight at all. The museum was locked up, of course. The indicated restaurant was closed. The Palacio and church were brightly painted, but without people. Finally a woman walked by and we asked if there was someone to open the museum. She indicated to go to a miscellania a few blocks away, but I was feeling pretty dry and tired so Suzanne went while I tried to catch a tiny nap. She came back with a couple of cokes and a bag of peanuts, both of which I devoured. She also had information about how to get into the museum.
So we went to the restaurant, Los Danzantes, and knocked on the door. After a couple of minutes an old man came to the door and I asked if he was Sr. Martinez. Yes, he was. Could we see the museum? Yes, we could, if we waited a minute. He went away, came back with the keys and led us across the plaza to the museum.
It is a single room, with some old glass-enclosed shelves and some other displays protected by clear plastic boxes. It also has some really nicely painted pictures that are taken from Mixteca books.
MesoAmerica once has lots and lots of books. They were painted in multiple colors on bark and connected edge to edge, then unfolded like an accordion. Different regions had different scripts, but all of them seemed to have liberal use of illustrations as well. In a way, they were like comic books. It is a crying shame that the early missionaries considered them to be the works of the devil and burned them. Almost all of them. Maybe a half dozen still survive, stashed away now in the musty libraries of various European institutions. Most of those that survive are Mixtec. The most interesting one was too large to get in one picture and be able to see anything, so here instead is the Family Tree of the Mixtecs.
I really liked this museum. All the museums have a real sense of community pride about them. In every case of those we have seen the people who made and keep the museum are the descendants of the people who made the ancient stuff in them. But for some reason this one struck me as being particularly nice. Maybe it was the simplicity, or maybe even the poverty of it, or maybe the fact that Sr. Martinez sensed my interest and personally guided me through the whole thing, answering my questions and offering information. I gotta admit, I REALLY wished I knew more Spanish! One thing in particular that struck me here was that most museums, and certainly the big professional ones, always have the most beautiful, pristine samples in them. This one as made up of stuff that the residents had found and brought here to keep, and a lot of it was crude, simple and, well, regular. The kind of thing that I have always expected most of the carvings and decorations to be. Not master works, but simple things that ordinary people would have made.
The museum had two blueprints of ruins, one north and one south of the town. Both had been surveyed, but neither had been excavated or explored much.
It started with a batch of local fossils. Shells, mostly. Then there were a bunch of pre Classic pieces, the simple fire-baked pieces that are found in every village of that period in Mexico. Here is a dzahui , or water spirit. Then a bunch of pieces from the Classic era. Then some from the post Classic.
It includes a complete skeleton, with a couple of the grave goods, encased in a glass box. It has some really fine pieces as well. Sr. Martinez explained that one in particular was special, a long-necked olla (jar). He explained that it was a combination of the male power (the long neck) and the female (the squat jar). Same idea as the linga and yoni, really, of India.
Here are two close-ups of parts of the original Mixteca document, too. It tells about the marriage of Five Eagle to her two husbands, first to Mr. Ten Eagle (for which he paid 40 cocoa beans, not shown here) and then to Mr. Ten House. I regrettably did not quite understand what the rest of the pictures were about.
The museum ended up with some old post-Colonial artifacts, such as a batch of dented brass instruments, several branding irons, and a couple of battered old typewriters.
Here is a picture of the ancient glyph for Yucunama. A version as painted on the museum wall, another on the Palacio, and a third is visible on the ancient Mixteca document.
While we were finishing up a family came in to see things, parents and a pair of kids. She seemed to know Sr. Martinez, addressing him as maestro. We later learned he had been her second grade teacher. We said hello, explained we were English teachers in Oaxaca. They mentioned their kids were learning English, and so I asked the boy, in very slow English, ?Do you speak English?? and he shyly said, ?Yes, a little.? I got a laugh when I said, ?Es lo mismo para mi in Espanol.?
Well, we were all done so Sr. Martinez began locking up and asked if we wanted to have something to eat. We were famished, and everyone said yes. When we went into the restaurant the family went down to look at the new water supply for the town, and when they returned they had changed their minds about eating and left.
So when Sr. Martinez brought out the food, it was just Suzanne and I. We expected some little comida. But first he gave us some agua tuna (juice from the cactus tuna, or fruit), then brought out a dish of vegetables and chicken, and then a bowl of spaghetti, then some steamed nopales (cactus paddles) and then some steamed squash. Finally, some tortillas. Everything was delicious. I ate as much as I could, feeling somewhat obligated because there was so much. At the end, with us protesting that we were stuffed, he asked if we wanted some desert. At first I said no, I was too full, but changed my mind and boy am I glad I did! It was a very sweet, slightly alcoholic parts of a maguey plant. All natural he assured us, no sugar.
Over lunch we talked, listening to the Spanish and wishing I knew more. But Sr. Martinez had been born in Yucunama. He lived in Mexico City for a while, and he had once visited Houston and stayed with a friend while he taught culture to some chicanos. I expressed surprise at the word, for it was the first time I had heard it in Mexico. He agreed, it was a word for Americans, not Mexicans. He seemed proud of knowing it and impressing me. He had returned to Yucunama and was a teacher, and for a while was the village president but wanted nothing more to do with politics.
His pride in his town, his people and the museum was evident and quite moving. I enjoyed it all immensely, and we could have stayed and talked for hours, I think. But it was getting late and we didn?t want to drive in the dark, and I as also getting Spanish fatigue. After a longish while I just sort of lose my ability to hear or understand it. So we reluctantly said good by, paid our Mex$100 for the immense lunch, and promised to return.
Next time, though, I am going to ask for an entirely pre-Columbian meal.