by CARLA CLAUDIO BETANCOURT
The following stories and pigments were shared with me by people from Ikoots and Zapotec communities who hosted me during my stay in the Isthmus region of Oaxaca, Mexico. In recent years, the various Indigenous peoples of the region are increasingly polarized over the Corredor Transístmico (Interoceanic Corridor), Mexico’s $4 billion USD investment in an industrial corridor that will span the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, the narrowest stretch of land between the Pacific Ocean and the Caribbean Sea. The ultimate goal is to connect the port of Coatzacoalcos on the Gulf of México with the Salinas Cruz Port on the Pacific coast, providing a quicker alternative for trans-Pacific shipping to the backlogged Panama Canal.
Nomadic Pigment Lab travels to San Mateo del Mar in Oaxaca, Mexico to learn about Ikoots mythology and create a community mural using local soil pigments.
My first pigment encounter in Oaxaca was with chicot iüt, which translates to “sandy soil” in Ombeayiüts, the language of the Ikoots. Iüt means “soil”, as in the earthy material, and “land”, as in the idea of territory and home. Mikwal iüt, for example, means “citizen” and translates to “offspring of the land.” I was a gifted a blue container full of this soil by a teacher from a local bilingual elementary school. The colour of chicot iüt mirrors the grasslands and sandy lagoons scattered along the coastal landscapes of the Isthmus during dry season. The soil sample is from the nearby community Huazantlán, an area of the Isthmus well-known for its strong winds, which have been known to topple oil trucks.
We were preparing to create a mural with local soil pigments about the relationship of Ikoots women with the sea. To Ikoots women, the sea is their source of life in more than the economic sense: it provides recreation, healing, and a container for ritual. They even refer to the amniotic fluid inside a pregnant woman’s womb as mindek nine, or the “Child’s Sea.” The mural is in collaboration with local leaders that coordinate gender perspective and gender violence workshops and support the preservation of the Ikoots language and culture. If mikwal iüt means “offspring of the land,” then perhaps we might utilize local soil pigments as a means to invigorate younger generations to maintain a sense of ownership and responsibility for their ancestral lands.
üp iüt means “soil rose like guava.” It has the same red colour as cooked shrimp, a favourite local snack and one of the most valuable commercial exports of the area. San Mateo del Mar is located between two bodies of water, each with its own gender association and particular energy: to the North, the “Dead Sea,” or Laguna Superior, which brings in the hot, dry, masculine wind. To the South, the “Living Sea,” or Pacific Ocean, which brings in the cool, moist, feminine wind. The soil we used for the mural is from San Dioniso del Mar, which sits across the “Dead Sea” from San Mateo and is often applied on wood crosses for protection against the heavy rain, salt, and hot air in the area. The intensity of colour reminds me of the incredible heat you can experience in the Isthmus. So hot that dogs burrow holes in the sand or lie defeated on the pavement, contorting their bodies to fit the nearest shadow. One myth has it that the Huave, as the Ikoots are referred to by their Zapotec neighbours, originate from dogs.
A local resident told me the story on our ride back from a visit to the “Dead Sea.” We took a moto-taxi together, the primary means of navigation on these incandescent streets. According to her, there was a dog whose dog-wife would turn human to run errands and perform kitchen tasks. It was her nagual, an Indigenous Mesoamerican term referring to humans who can shape-shift into animals and forces of nature. She would take off the dog skin like a dress and grind corn, make tortillas, clean the house. The dog caught on to her tricks one day and, while she was gone, poured salt on her dog skin dress, leaving it shrivelled and ruined. She was the first Ikoots woman born out of rejection and expulsion from her own home for doing exactly what she was expected to do. I found this story unnerving in the same way most irrationally violent myths are. And yet they reveal clearly who’s always been at the receiving end of that violence.
Arts Everywhere for more