Dances with Parachicos

Fiesta Grande de Enero

I wasn’t so put out about Christmas vacation coming to an end this year.  I had a party plan for January, no dry month for me this year (who am I kidding?  I did that once, ages ago, and only lasted til the 29th).  I had been invited to celebrate the Fiesta Grande de Enero, in Chiapa de Corzo, with my Chiapanecan colleague.  The festival is a celebration of many feasts that fall during the month of January, including those of the patron saints, Our Lord of Esquipulas, Anthony the Great, and Saint Sebastian.  There are several different aspects to the festival, all steeped in history. 

At the beginning of the festival, men dress as Chiapanecan women with full make up and head dress and parade the streets.  I have heard that this tradition was born out of the protection of women who wanted to celebrate, the men dressed as women to accompany them.  Another story I’ve read about is that these men, referred to as ‘Chuntas’, represent the servants of Doña María de Angula, who I will tell you about.  These days it’s an opportunity for the men to have some fun and express their feminine side, and it provides those who would rather do this more often an opportunity to do so in a safe environment in, to my observation, an ordinarily macho society.

There is also a day when the Chiapanecans, the women of Chiapa de Corzo, fill the streets in their colourful dresses, but the evening I attended was when the Parachicos danced in the streets.  These are the men who dress in sarapes, which are poncho-like striped shawls, bristly hats made of a fibre called ixtle, and wooden masks that are decorated to mimic a Spanish face.  These take a bit of getting used to.  The eyes are painted, with holes underneath them for the wearer to see through.  You haven’t felt fear until you’ve looked into the painted eyes of a Parachico mask for the first time.  But once you get used to them, they’re pretty cool to watch.  The Spanish influence comes from an old colonial story about a rich Spanish woman called Doña María de Angula, whose son had a paralytic illness, which no doctor could cure.  She travelled in search of one and arrived in Chiapa de Corzo where she met a healer who directed her to bathe her son in a small lake.  To distract the young boy, some local men dressed as Spaniards and danced for the boy.  This is said to have cured him and the tradition of the dance lived on.  It became known as ‘Para el Chico’, which translates as ‘for the boy’.  This term has evolved and now the dancers are known as ‘Parachicos’.

There are many patrons of the festival who convert the front room of their homes to an area housing a statue, and decorated with offerings.  The status of patron is a much sought after one as it is a great honour.  The public are invited inside to pay respect to the saints, and the Parachicos are offered food and drinks.  During the evening, the Parachico dancers parade between these homes and stop to dance.  They fill the room and spill out to the street to perform a rather mesmerising stomp-like dance in complete silence.  All that can be heard is the sound of their feet pounding the ground.  I stood in the midst of all of this and looked around to see masked men, all dancing in unison, as if sharing one mind.  It was hypnotising.  At each stop the dancers drink, so as the night unfolds these guys get pretty intoxicated.  I was stumbled on my many, but here in Mexico politeness is of utmost importance so they were the most civilised of drunks as they apologised for bumping from person to person through the crowded streets. 

After following the parade for about an hour or so, I accompanied my friends to a house where the residents had put tables and chairs outside and served Micheladas to thirsty festival goers.  Many homes became small businesses, selling 6 packs, food, and drinks.  The petite cobbled streets were alive with activity, where people danced to live bands and drank until the wee hours of the morning.  I reluctantly left the party to return to my bed, as the stark reality of a 5am alarm call can dim any party atmosphere.  I envied the residents of the town, where most businesses close to allow people to continue the celebrations, but thirty minutes along the highway to Tuxtla, it’s business as usual.

The festival comes to a close in late January with a reenaction of a naval battle on the river, a huge fireworks display, and two days of parades.  It wouldn’t surprise me if the people in Chiapa de Corzo spend Febrary sleeping off January.  However here in Mexico people have bags of energy.  I’m still searching for the source..

Images: Sinéad Millea