Warrior Women of the Isthmus

Land of big women

We land in Mexico City around midnight and wake a dozing taxi driver to take us to our hotel. On the way Katerina decides she should be the one to initiate our project, and asks the driver what he knows about Tehuanas.

"I've not been to Isthmus," he admits, looking in the mirror with a smirk.

"But I know they are grandotes (huge), and bonitas (beautiful)," he adds in a raspy Mexican voice.

The description pleases Katerina, and she relaxes back with a satisfied expression on her face. I realise then that as well as monitoring the friction between men and women in this culture, I will be subject to my girlfriend's competitive attitude as well.

The next day we wander around the city tasting some spicy tacos and practising our Spanish. At one point we end up in the underground metro during rush hour. Hundreds of Mexicans are waiting anxiously for the train. When it finally arrives, I see special carriages for women and children only, which are almost empty. But despite my suggestions, Katerina insists we experience the normal carriages.

We squash together with lots of sweaty Mexican men. A fat businessman happily opens a porn magazine for all to see; a young man rubs up against Katerina accidently on purpose; and other men stare at her for periods longer than would normally be acceptable in European metros. Taking into account we are foreigners, I still feel the men are seeing my girlfriend as an object of pleasure for them to gloat over freely. The fact she obviously belongs to me does not seem to enter their heads.

"Welcome to the famous Mexican machismo!" Katerina says to herself, as if proving a point.

From Mexico City we take the bus to Oaxaca de Juarez, where the Zapotec civilisation began, 2,500 years ago. Since then the culture has split into four sub-groups: Central Valley Zapotecs, Southern Zapotecs, Serranos Zapotecs, and Isthmus Zapotecs - the only group to have developed a matriarchal streak.

We spend the evening strolling around the UNESCO protected centre, admiring the blend of old colonial architecture and romantically lit tourist restaurants. While listening to some drunken sounding mariachis (musicians in matching wide brimmed sombreros), Katerina spots a lady in a wheelchair selling colourful Tehuana huipiles (blouses).

"Buy one! Six hundred pesos, but I'll give it to you for five hundred pesos (£25)," she shouts, and holds up a large black satin top embroidered with bright red roses.

Compared to the other types of Zapotec girls, harmlessly wandering around the plaza with armfuls of handicrafts, this big Isthmus lady is suddenly a high-pressure saleswoman. I try to turn the conversation onto her, and ask where she is from.

"I am from Juchitán on the Isthmus, but live here in Oaxaca most of the time. I suffer from multiple sclerosis!" she says, and then reverts back to selling mode, and thrusts another top into Katerina's arms.

"Take this one! It is beautiful. It is made by hand!" she bellows.

Although the lady is in a wheelchair, Katerina finds her a little overbearing, and tries to make the excuse that we are buying things on our way back to Mexico City instead. The lady, however, is not convinced and continues her sales pitch. In the end I just have to grab my girlfriend by the arm and pull her away, leaving the woman to scream the obligatory final offers embarrassingly out across the plaza!

From the cool heights of Oaxaca we descend to the hot and humid plains of the Isthmus, where temperatures hover between twenty-five to forty degrees year round. At the bus station in Tehuantepec, my clothes soon start sticking to my body, but I insist we walk into town to see what has changed.

This is actually our second visit to the Isthmus Zapotec culture; the first was six years before, but only lasted for a couple weeks, so I always felt we should return.

Heading into town we pass lines of colourful two-tone Mexican houses, some with strange graffiti of androgynous looking Tehuanas. We avoid several groups of stray dogs sleeping lazily in the shade. I try to greet an old lady sweeping dust from her front door, but she looks back at me blankly, as if I had somehow ruined her day. Arriving at the central plaza we find elderly men sat around looking dejected, and big fat mamas riding noisy three-wheeled motocaros (motor-rickshaws) to and from the market.

Nothing appears to have changed!

On our first visit to Tehuantepec this scene made a very big impact on me, and for a while I was convinced matriarchy must be here. Notes from my diary:

Around the plaza I see women – BIG women! Riding motocaros like chariots from the film Ben-Hur. They are fully clad in traditional Isthmus Zapotec costumes: long flowing skirts and black tops, boldly embroidered with brightly coloured flowers or geometric designs. The drivers are men – puny men!

Seeing the oversized bodies of the women shuddering past again, gives me the same unnerving feeling I remember I got before - big means powerful.

According to the Spanish artist and anthropologist, Miguel Covarrubias, the physical girth of the Tehuanas has been a feature of the culture for some time. In the 1940s he noted it was normal for women to compliment one another on how rotund they look - to be slim was considered a sign of ill health.

As the light begins to fade, plastic tables and chairs are distributed on wide pavements. Men set up tacos stands and women offer horchatas (iced maize drinks) and tlayudas (giant tortillas stuffed with beans and meat). Loud Latin pop music drifts out across the plaza creating a street party atmosphere. It seems it may only have been yesterday when the region was a cosmopolitan hub of travellers, intellectuals and artists, all infatuated with the local Tehuanas.

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Thanks for reading - I will be posting every week on Monday hopefully :-)