#texcala

Most towns and cities in México are named after catholic saints. Most often, the town is known primarily by its pre-Hispanic name, and the official name is a mix of the native and christian names. For example, I live in Zapotitlán Salinas. Zapotitlán for the last Popoloca king before the conquest by the Spaniards, Xopanatzin. Salinas because of the underground salt rivers from which the indigenous people here from time immemorial until today have extracted salt, to offer as homage to the empire in the time of the Aztecs, and to sell commercially in modern times.  It is also known by its less popular name as San Martín Zapotitlán. It is said that when Xopanatzin converted to Catholicism, he took the christian name Juan Pacheco Xopanatzin. His son was named Martín Mendoza Xopanatzin. During Martin’s time, the church of Zapotitlán was built, and dedicated to San Martin Obispo de Tours.

A lot of towns have stories like this, and their choice to use officially both native and christian names but to commonly use the native name is very demonstrative of Mexicans’ balancing act of pre-Hispanic and Mestizo-Catholic heritage. 

In Catholicism every saint is assigned a day of celebration. Since most towns carry the name of a saint and layout is centered around the church to which the town’s catholic namesake is dedicated, every year each town celebrates its saint with a big party, a fair of sorts, the type you might expect anywhere, with rides, stands, junk food, everything. But here there is something really incredible and unique that the people do during their town’s fair. 

Today was the fair of a neighboring town, Texcala, San Antonio Texcala. My host family, Don Javier, Doña Irma, and Joaquin asked me to join them to have our comida in Texcala. I accepted, and we all took our first outing together. We arrived in the town which is cut in half by a little one lane highway, drove up the narrow streets, and arrived at a house where some 50 people were all eating at a long assemblage of plastic tables. We sat down and people brought us plates of pig-brain tacos, carnitas, rice, and a pitcher of pulque. 

I quickly realized that my host family didn’t know all the people there, and that the people at the tables seemed to not know one another either; they were segmented, but slowly began interacting or just talking among their small groups. The same people who gave us our food made rounds to see if anyone needed refills or anything. I felt like I was at a restaurant. Then I realized that this was one of the traditions I had read about in the region, but had not really considered deeply. The tradition is that on the day of the town’s fair, the houses open their doors to those who pass by to visit, and give them a meal and plenty to drink.