This is the second part in an exploration of Mexican art, from my own perspective. The first post looks at history, religion, street art and graffiti. This one explores Mexican fashion, food, water and people.
Mexican food is diverse and each corner of this vast country reflects the panoply of flavours available that it has to offer. However, I have to admit I found the cuisine too meaty and heavy, but occasionally I’d be lucky enough to discover the odd idiosyncrasy here or there, such as fried bugs with chilly and lime.
A cheeky chicken in Chiapas checks out the corn-filled basket for treats.
A delicious traditional breakfast and a freshly squeezed orange juice before our epic trek up Tepozteco mountain
Mexico is one of the most colourful countries I’ve ever had the privilege of exploring. Its arts, food, fashion, nature, cultures, music and histories reveal its majesty, creativity, intellect and expressive depth. Here is a selection of photographs that attempt to capture some of the art of Mexico, as I understand it.
Mexico is a deeply religious country, for better or worse. Before it was colonised by the Spanish in 1519, the ancient religion was Nahua, which was an amalgamation of beliefs of the tribes of the region. Several deities were worshipped, and ritual human sacrifice and cannibalism were common practice. The Nahuatl peoples were intellectually advanced, excelling in astronomy and mathematics, sciences which were used by the priests. When the Spanish invaded Mexico, they attempted to displace their multitude of gods in favour of one. They were unsuccessful and today, Mexican Catholicism represents a unique blend of indigeneity and Christianity.
Santo de Domingo Cathedral
Candles inside a Oaxacan church glow brightly
Church of the Divine Saviour: Malinalco
The enduring legacy of colonialism
I accidentally gatecrash a wedding in Valle de Bravo
Rosita adorns the outside of her home for the barrios’ celebration of Christ
A Mexican lady showing me her jewellery in Mazunte.
Whilst perching uncomfortably at a bar in Mazunte, awaiting for the band to start, and resting uncomfortable in the fact that I knew nobody, I decided to jot down some ideas for possible things I could write about. In the back of my little black leather notebook is written the following, as an adage to my first far more metaphysical and rather intellectually taxing list:
Guilt, and the futility of – Mexican maids, street kids, beach vendors, etc.
The ubiquity of Hip-Hop.
Conundrums of travelling alone – burnt back, hanging out in bars such as this one.
Hypocrisy in the 21st century hippie culture – dreadlocked man and our chat post his slow, inarticulate description of water massage therapy.