Thanks, MexicoBob for pointing this out! I did say that my “research” was entirely superficial and based on Google; how I missed this one so relatively close to home is a mystery. Not as mysterious as a good black Christ legend, but still puzzling.
Here’s the link:
Note: If you are under the impression, from the suggestive title “The Mystery of the Black Christ at Chumayel” that I am going to explain in definite terms why the altar in the church at Chumayel has a black Christ on it’s cross, then stop reading now, because I haven’t found the answers. If you have the answer or know of a good theory, let me know!
On a very recent (last week) visit to the church at Chumayel some friends remarked on the black Christ, finding it most unusual and so asked me about it. For those of you who haven’t seen it, it’s your typical representation of Jesus on the cross except the material seems to be black. While the fact that the Christ is black is unusual, what is certainly not unusual is that I don’t have a clue, being a lapsed catholic who has turned further and further from organized religion and so I was not able to answer their question on why the usually Nordic looking Jesus was in this case, black (without the facial features associated with the black race, of course)
After some poking around, superficially I admit on the internet, I have come to the preliminary conclusion that there is nothing tremendously scandalous or mysterious about the black Christ in Chumayel. Nor is it particularly unique, as there a few others literally hanging around.
For example, one of the more popular ‘Black Christs’ is on display in Guatemala in a village called Esquipulas. Beyond the usual back story on why a carved Christ is commissioned in the first place (humble villagers, miracles, rural area, etc.) the reason given for its blackness is the darker wood used combined with natural aging over the years.(1) The local arquitect Eduardo Andrade indicates that it’s color is due to years of being prayed to amidst candle smoke and soot.(4)
The Metropolitan Cathedral in Mexico City also features a black statue of Christ, known there also as Lord of Poison which is a pretty interesting name for a Christ figure. This is the most venerated statue in the entire cathedral and is located at the Altar of Forgiveness and apparently dates back to the 18th of August, 1602 when the Dominican Fathers came to Mexico with several Christ sculptures, all white.
Legend has it (2) that this particular figure was installed in a small chapel in Tlanepantla where the regent archbishop prayed daily and at the end of a prayer, would kiss the feet of this statue. When his enemies saw what his routine was, they applied poison to the feet of the statue in the hopes that they could off him in this way after his next prayer. Alas, their cunning plan was foiled when the statue (faith, people, faith) shrank back from the archbishops approaching lips, thereby saving his life and providing for yet another biblical story. The most interesting part of this tale – for the purposes of this article anyway – is that the statue then absorbed the poison that had been applied by the evildoers and this is what turned it black.
The story quickly got out and spread rapidly amongst the flock; the great back story and the fact that the chapel was not open to the public heightened the mystery and devotion to this black Christ. After being under wraps for many years (ie the marketing plan had worked and the product was ready) in 1935 the now heroic black Christ was moved from its private location to the Metropolitan Cathedral so as to be available for worship by all.
Apparently there is another black Christ in Veracruz, in the town of Otatitlan.(3) The investigator Carlos Navarrete proposes another theory; that these black Christs were made on purpose (as opposed to “Oops, it turned black we need a legend here, people”) and that they can be found on ancient trade routes established by the Pochtecas or prehispanic traders. In the work there is a mention of a substitution in Otatitlan, of a singular black Christ that replaced Yacaecutli or God of Commerce, who happened to be black also.
An article about Campeche mentions 3 black Christs; one in Merida, one in Calkini and one in the church of San Roman in Campeche itself (5), making the one in Chumayel another in a whole series of non-Nordic statues of Jesus.
And finally, beyond Mexico and Guatemala, there is another one of these statues in Portobelo, Panama. From the website: (6)
So there you have a brief look at the black Christ. Now the next time I am in Chumayel with out of town guests asking in hushed voices about the mysterious figure on the cross, I’ll be able to tell something reasonably intelligent.
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1. http://peregrinacion.org.ar
2. http://www.elnuevoheraldo.com/articles/cristo-12171-negro-catedral.html
3. http://www.mexicodesconocido.com.mx/notas/1882-El-Cristo-Negro-de-Otatitl%E1n,-Veracruz
4. http://www.viajeaguatemala.com/Chiquimula/200411293719.htm
5. http://calkini.net/municipio/festividades3.htm
6. http://www.yourpanama.com/black-christ.html
When traveling with friends and relatives around the Yucatan, I am often struck by the difference in ‘feel’ from town to Yucatecan town; Mani, while famous for its’ convent and history and of course the Tutul Xiu restaurant always gives me a neutral impression. Some people are very friendly, like the lady who embroiders dresses in front of the unfortunately closed-during-a-large-part-of-the-day convent; others are outright sullen and hostile. In Uayalceh, there are many suspicious looks and a kind of hardness in faces that is difficult to describe but perceptible.
Yesterdays excursion through the so-called ‘Convent Route’ had a similar result. The inhabitants of the tiny villages of Telchaquillo and Mama were indifferent and the towns themselves lackluster bordering on decrepit in spite of their attractions.
Tecoh was a different story altogether. Maybe it was because it was Sunday, everyone was dressed up, in church and feeling celebratory or maybe it was the impression you get from the moment you leave the highway and approach the town, noticing that there are trees and flowers planted along the way to welcome you. As what seemed to be the entire population of the town exited the church upon the conclusion of Sunday mass, Yours Truly and company got plenty of stares and a giggle or three from the kids but also many a Buenos Dias and a smile. Friendliness seemed to ooze from the pores of everyone we came into contact with.
The thought came to my neurotic foreigners mind that this might be one of those places that Yucatans reputation for friendly people, peaceful provincial life, comes from. It even crossed my mind that this might be a good place to retire.
Is the neurotic foreigner getting soft in his old age?
The Casual Restaurant Critic is not a huge fan of scones. Usually, they are these dough-y mounds of white flour biscuit that require several glasses of liquid to swallow; however, the Critic had some scones made by Alejandra at the El Postrecito café, just off Montejo on Calle 21 (the one that goes to Plaza Fiesta).
These are light and fluffy inside, full of buttery flavor and the outside has a sprinkling of sugar which makes them lightly crunchy. The Critic doesn’t even know if they are on the menu but if they are, you should try them in their regular (with what seems like a touch of lemon or lime) or chocolate chip versions. If they are not, order a dozen for your next breakfast meeting or social event.
Eat them hot and you will not be able to stop.
As I alluded to on William Lawson’s Driving blog, yesterday I took some folks to Dzibilchaltun. I had told them about the site and it’s small but well-put-together museum.
I was shocked at the state of the museum: it is literally falling apart around the exhibits. Not that you are going to get hit in the head with falling plaster, but you may stumble a bit on the floor, which is made of wooden slats which have either rotted or fallen prey to an insect invasion, known here as comejen, that make it sag and uneven. Some of the wooden slats have been crudely replaced by someone with about as much skill in carpentry as I have, using approximate-sized replacement unfinished wooden strips nailed down with the flair of an 8 year old backyard fort builder. Other slats are covered with pieces of carpeting; the sag you feel as you step on them makes you feel you are on the dance floor of the Mambo Café.
Looking up, it is evident that the finishing coat of cement has fallen off in places, leaving rebar and concrete roofing material exposed. Also, while you are gazing up that way, note that the illumination is at about 30% capacity ie. 70% of the light bulbs are burnt out or off. In any case, they are not working, and many of the exhibits suffer from this lack of proper illumination.
It seems both a shame and a disgrace that the INAH does not or cannot maintain this building that must have hundreds of visitors each week, especially during this ‘high’ season (and the just finished Christmas holidays which saw Yucatan’s attractions mobbed by tourists both national and international) and now that Dzibilchaltun is on the cruise ship excursion map.
Very embarrassing, and as a Yucatecan – according to the definition proposed by Tony in the Diario de Yucatan a few weeks ago, a Yucatecan is everyone that resides here and contributes, in one form or another, to the political, social or commercial life of the Yucatan – I find it unacceptable that our so-called authorities show such disdain towards this important showcase for Mayan and Yucatecan culture.
The Critic and Co. had lunch yesterday at the new Ca d’Oro Italian restaurant, located in that plaza on Prolongación Montejo where Carls Jr hamburgers (formerly Checkers) is located, across from the giant Interceramic tile store.
The Critic had read a good review on gorbman.com and so was excited to have the opportunity to give this relatively new restaurant a try.
The two appetizers ordered, suppli al telefono and melanzana were good; the melanzana or eggplant was rich hearty and very satisfying while the best part of the suppli was the great presentation in a paper cone. Others in the party thought the suppli a little bland, but the accompanying cooked tomato sauce perked the little rice/cheese balls nicely.
For main courses:
Overall, reviews were generally good on the food. The pizza and the duck were outstanding, while the tagliatelle was quite bland. If it hadn’t been for the prosciutto, it would have tasted like not much of anything.
Bread seemed homemade and was warm, crispy and light; while the three accompanying butters (habanero, chile de arbol and garlic) were very good although it could be that the butter was actually margarine, if such a thing were possible in the Ca d’Oro.
As usual, the Critic is critical of the service. If you are tired of reading this same old criticism of Merida’s restaurants, stop reading here and go outside and play.
But it seems that the owners of Ca d’Oro have spent a lot of thought, time and money on the decoration, the menu and some wonderful food. The waiter was slow, charmless and not particularly knowledgeable. When asked when the restaurant opened, he seemed unsure and said ‘it’s my understanding that they opened about year ago’. When asked is they had mineral water his answer was ‘yes’. When asked further what kind of mineral water, he replied ‘Perrier’. When asked if they had Pelegrino he replied ‘yes’. Upon returning to the table to remove finished plates, he went on just a little too much about how it was evident that the group enjoyed the food (the empty plates).
If this is nitpicking, so be it. But one only has to have dinner at La Recova, or for really outstanding service, La Dolce Vita in Cancun, to see what a difference well-trained, knowledgeable and professional waiters make.
Final verdict? Try it yourself. There are a lot of items on their menu and the Critic is sure that there are some real gems in there.
Being as the Casual Restaurant Critic accompanies Lawson wherever he goes, he has had his fill of Yucatecan food lately at Doña Tere, on that service island 1.5 hours out of Merida on the Merida-Cancun toll highway.
There have been at least 7 drives back and forth, picking up people from Cancun and bringing them to Merida and ALL of them have been forced to stop and eat at Doña Teres’ fabulous place.
Yesterday was no exception and the Critic has never seen that many people waiting for tables as the waiters and cooks scrambled to keep up with the demand. It’s the end of the holiday season and there were at least 60 people in and around the restaurant trying to get their teeth on Relleno Negro, Cochinita, Lomitos, Tamales and cheese empanadas.
Yum!
The Critic wishes his readers a happy 2010, full of exciting, new restaurants to try and plenty of good health in order to be able to properly enjoy them. The Critic will continue to praise and trash restaurants in Mérida and beyond, in that socialist schoolboy way, which so many have come to love and hopefully will come in handy when making a ‘let’s go out for dinner’ decision.
All the best,
The Casual Restaurant Critic
The Critic thinks he has found possibly the worst Chinese food in Merida. It’s a little place called Dang Ren, located across from Costco on Calle 60 and the Critic was hungry while waiting for his vehicle to be serviced at nearby Radial Llantas and decided to get a little MSG fix.
There are plastic chairs and tables, of the Coca Cola variety in what used to be this house’ garage. The sign says something about ‘art in Chinese cuisine’ or something equally ambitious and slanderously incorrect. The food, in steam table recipients on a couple of plastic tables where one notes a complete lack of any steam, looks Chinese enough.
A Chinese man pops out of the house and asks if you want one guiso or two and if it’s to go or to eat here. The Critic says to eat here. The difference is that one gets a plastic fork. The styro container is the same. One guiso and rice today.
The Critic sits, sticks the fork in the rice and puts in his mouth. The undercooked ie hard rice is between lukewarm and cold. Ugh! The chicken? Same thing. If there is one thing the Critic hates it’s buffets and their lukewarm food. That’s where all the tourists in Cancun get sick.
A moment later, the entire 27 peso package was in the garbage at Costco, where the Critic picked up a turkey and cheese sandwich at their deli, which was much better.
This place is just gross.
Yours truly drives an Impala. This car is no longer imported into Mexico and so the models around are mostly 2000-2003, with a few 2004 versions kicking around. Why this is I can’t say, since Chevrolet is still offering the giant Suburban gas guzzlers and has just put the re-tooled Camaro on the Mexican market, complete with 8 cylinder options and the Impala is a nice roomy car perfect for families.
I digress.
The car in question is great, until the other night when the wheels started shimmying and evidently there was some sort of suspension/steering problem. This is not good. Took it to my trusty suspension people, Radial Llantas, across from Costco on 60 Norte, who were fortunately open on a Sunday. They had a look and pronounced the problem as being the drive axle. OK, says I, go ahead and fix it. Well, it’s Sunday and there are no parts places open today. Crap.
Monday rolls around and guess what? All the parts places they try do not have this part in stock. There IS a supplier in Monterrey who has the part; it’s 3500 pesos and they will send it in two weeks. TWO WEEKS. Meanwhile the car is to just sit there, limping on 3 wheels? After personally scouring the city myself, including a visit to the Chevrolet/GM dealership, where the same part costs $9500 pesos (!) I decide to put down a down payment and have Radial Llantas order the part from Monterrey. Graciela calls Monterrey, where they inform her that the part, which was in the inventory just the day before, is no longer there. It will take two weeks to a month to get it because they have to import it, it’s inventory time, end of year holidays etc etc. Unbelievable.
Cursing the unknown fellow in Monterrey and his family under my breath, I remember to call a friend who is in the car business. He makes a call and tells me he has located the part at Torres in Santiago. Drive there, with the broken part in the trunk to show them, and park. Walk in, and ask about the part in question; no, we don’t have it is the amused reply. You have got to be kidding says I. A friend just called… Call back my friend, who tells me the name of the person he spoke to and lo and behold he owns up to having talked to this friend on the phone; but as it turns out it is not the part he thought. The one I need is non-existent. He in turn makes a phone call, but this elusive part is not showing up anywhere.
I decide – ni modo – to head back to the Chevrolet dealership, resigned to paying almost $1000 USD for this part which will be here in 10 days at best. To my daughter, who accompanies me faithfully through this odyssey and rubs my shoulders when I get too tense, I say ‘wait and see, when we get there, he will have gone for lunch’.
Arriving at the Chevrolet dealership, we see the parts man is still working. I whip out my credit card.
‘Chispas‘ he remarks.
‘Chispas‘ is a bad thing. When you hear that you are going to get some bad news. Sure enough, it turns out that the cashier HAS GONE FOR LUNCH and won’t be back for a couple of hours.
I dejectedly accept a lunch invitation from my dear wife, who puts up with my neuroses. I can hardly taste the shrimp, I’m so pissed.
Later that afternoon, as I glumly peruse online catalogs in the USA looking for a part whose name I only know in Spanish and can find nothing that looks like it anywhere, I get an idea. I call a friend in Pennsylvania who knows all about cars and had a lucrative business importing minivans and pickups back when Hacienda (Mexicos’ version of the IRS) let vehicles over the age of 10 years into the country with a minimum of hassle. He tells me the name of the part in English and also gives me what is assuredly the TIP OF THE YEAR which will be of great interest to those who own a foreign or imported from the USA car.
‘Have you tried El Pipis?’ he asks.
‘El Pipis?’ I retort, laughing in that quiet hysterical way Inspector Clouseau’s superior officer does before going completely bonkers. ‘What the hell is El Pipis?!?!’
Turns out that El Pipis is a small parts shop, located directly behind the bleachers of the baseball park in the colonia Jesus Carranza, run by Carlos Mendoza and his Dad. They specialize in partes dificiles (it’s painted on their entrance) for gringo cars. In a first for this all-day adventure, Carlos takes one look at the part and says, yes, he can get it. It might take some time however. I grit my teeth and say, no hay problema. Yeah, he continues, usually we can get it the next day, but with year end and all, it might take 3 days. THREE DAYS??? I almost hug him, but since we’ve just met, I restrain myself.
He tells me to call him in the morning at 10 AM, when he has had a chance to make some phone calls. I leave full of hope and happy to have found El Pipis.
At 10 AM, I give him a call. He says they have not only found the part (used) but if I drop by and leave a deposit he will have it at 1:30 PM. In a stupor, I rush over and hand him 800 pesos. At 2 PM, I receive a text message that the part is in his store and I can come by and pick it up. I pay him another 700 pesos and I have the part in my hot little hands. Two hours later, back at Radial Llantas, I drive the Impala out of the garage and onto the street for a test drive.
Smooth as silk.
Words cannot describe the feeling of relief that washes over me as I thank destiny for leading me to El Pipis.
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El Pipis
Calle 31 No 456-C
Frente al Parque Jesus Carranza
999-926-6392 (regular phone)
999-239-8060 (cellular)
Carlos Mendoza