Master Radish Carver: Serafin Muñoz

At 64-years-old, Oaxacan born and lifelong resident, Serafin Muñoz, says he is sad and lonely most days lately due to the death of his wife of 40 years just one year ago.

However, he quickly changes the subject, and says, “We have to be better than yesterday,” and as his eyes begin to light up, asks,“What do you think?”

What brings joy to his life now he says is teaching sports to kids, and this time of year, because he gets to make intricate designs out of radishes for La Noche de Rabanos (Night of the Radishes) – a tradition that has been happening in Oaxaca every 23^rd of December, for more than a century.

Muñoz says the tradition started with the carving of lettuce, onions, and radishes in the markets during Christmas time to encourage sales, but with time, it became just radishes. Today, it is a full-blown city-wide contest where the government provides free radishes to all those that register (also free), and the first place winner gets 15,000 pesos.

It has become such a popular event that many people don't even get to see the works of art that are displayed in the zocalo on the 23^rd. The lines are so long, that it's over before they get there, Muñoz says.

He says that he was only about 15-years-old when he began keeping this tradition with his parents. And with almost 40 years of experience in this unique agrarian artistic field, no one has beaten Muñoz' record yet of nine first place wins, two second place wins, and three third place wins.

What sets him apart from the other contestants he says, is that he likes to keep some of the shape of the radishes. He doesn't carve to perfection – he likes his images to still look like it comes from a radish – in this way he keeps it authentic.

 

"I know love, because I love doing this," says Muñoz. "This is how one should love people - from the heart, not through words."

This year, he is repeating a theme he won first place for 35 years ago - a depiction of the first mass that was celebrated in Oaxaca 400 years ago at the bank of the Atoyac River, under a huajes tree (the leaf of which Oaxaca is named after).

It's an anxious time he says, because not only is the work tiring, but it's also nerve-wracking to wait to see who wins.

“One needs a lot of patience,” says Muñoz, while his son sprays water on some of the new radish creations beside me to keep them from dehydrating.

It's been four years since Muñoz last won a contest, but his determination does not falter. He's been carving with four of his six sons for the past four days, and tonight plans to be up till whenever they finish.

“He who doubts fails, and he who decides triumphs,” he tells me. “What do you think of that, eh?”

(Published in the Guadalajara Reporter)

The Celebration of Life and Death Continues in Oaxaca

One day, when I think back to the Day of the Dead I spent in Oaxaca, the vivid image of an older woman hugging a large bunch of flowers will come to mind. That one very colorful mental impression sums up the experience. The Mexican tradition of commemorating death, is synonymous with the way the Mexican people view everything in life.
 
Everything is celebrated.
 
While I have been here, I have been told that whether it be a graduation, a birthday, a new job, or a divorce, a party is thrown - even if you are broke and it will put you in debt.
 
From midnight of October 31st through November 2nd, every year, it is a custom dating back to pre-Hispanic times to go to the place where your loved ones are buried, and decorate it with flowers and candles, and sometimes even a tapete or colorful design made out of sand. Entire families sometimes unite to have dinner at the grave. Some play the favorite music of the deceased and may hire a Mariachi band, and some even sleepover to spend the entire night near their deceased loved one - as it is belief that during these days, the souls of the dead return briefly to the earth. Hence, instead of mourning, the people celebrate whole-heartedly.

In addition, to paying homage to the graves, altars are also made at home, and “comparsas” or parades take place from about 5 p.m. until 10 p.m. on November 1st and 2nd. Each neighborhood has a unique version with its own music and theme, but what does not vary is that all ages participate, many dress up in ghoulish, yet bright costumes, and there is much joy and energy that eminates throughout the community.

Some traditionalists are lamenting, because they feel that their ancient tradition is dying out. People say that less and less people are coming to the cemeteries every year, and according to the local newspaper El Imparcial, the sale of candles went down 20 percent from last year.

In the small pueblo of Ayoquesco, about a 40 minute drive from central Oaxaca, a sign was placed on the entrance of the local cemetery saying, “Say no to Halloween.” 

There is fear that the American holiday will taint this very special and ancient holiday for the Mexican community. However, simultaneously the younger generations are embracing Halloween, and blending it with their customary Day of the Dead traditions.

Walking around the cemetery in Xoxocotlan, about a 15 minute drive from the city of Oaxaca, one could see older widows planted by their husbands graves, alone with their colorful shawls and hot chocolate to keep them warm throughout the slightly chilled night. A few graves down, one could see a family with children gathered around in costumes and jack-o-lanterns to help light their loved ones’ grave.

The farther out one goes from the city into the smaller pueblos, the more families and elaborately decorated graves you will find at the cemeteries, but the newer cemeteries closer to the city and where a younger generation resides, are much emptier and darker due to lack of candlelight.

Who knows what will come of this special tradition? Hopefully, it will not die out.

However, when I think about the older woman holding her freshly cut bunch of flowers, and making her way through the crowd to find her loved ones’ grave, it symbolizes the cycle of old traditions blending with new ones, as well as death and the continuation of life. 

So far, it seems as though nothing is ever lost here; it only continues for eternity along with other things added along the way, while of course, being celebrated.

And it is continuing in Oaxaca. It is now November 3rd at 9 p.m., and the dead are long gone, but I still hear the horns blowing and fireworks booming outside my door.