The earthquake struck just before midnight on September 7, 2017 toppling the Iglesia de San Lorenzo de Zinacantán, the village church built by the Spanish in 1547 and it, along with much of the state of Chiapas, lay in rubble.

But by the time we arrived in February of of this year much of the façade had been restored, the churchyard was heaped with wood chips and sawdust as enormous timbers were carved by the local craftsmen into roof beams, and scaffolding was being raised to lift the centuries old, bronze bells back into the towers.

A corrugated metal structure had been hastily built on the lot next door and now serves as a church and a shelter for what religious artifacts have survived. With the exception of the doorway, it has the look and feel of a temporary clinic at a refugee camp. But arching over the entrance is a profusion of flowers intricately woven into an enormous garland that is both intriguing and welcoming. Stepping inside is stepping into another world. Flowers cascade from ceiling to floor covering the main altar and filling the church with the heady fragrance of lilies, gardenias, roses and lilac. Petals spill from roof beams, vines and leaves are entwined and braided in intricate patterns and mesmerizing designs. Offerings of flowers fill the altars and adorn the statues of the saints. The church is a dreamy kaleidoscope of color and fragrance.

Zinacantán is a Mayan village in a fertile valley nestled in the Chiapas highlands and it is a profusion of flowers. Greenhouses and nurseries crowd the valley floor and creep up the sides of the surrounding peaks. As you walk through the door of the church you begin to believe that perhaps all this is for the sole purpose of decorating the church.

This is a traditional Tzotzil community and we had been invited into a woman's home to share tortillas and atole and experience the way that they live. The women here are mostly weavers and embroiderers skilled in the art of the back-strap, or hip-loom, a simple but ingenious centuries old technique for weaving. The woman kneels on the ground and becomes an integral part of the loom as one end is attached to a pole or a tree and the other is fixed to the weaver by means of a back strap. The tension on the loom is adjusted by subtle movements of her hips.

The people of Zinacantán embrace their love of flowers not only in their church but also in their clothing. Their identity is defined by the flowers and patterns of the traditional garments that they wear. Each village within the community has their own distinctive designs and colors. The women of Zinacantán wear pink and purple flower embroidered clothing and the men wear pink tunics with a ribboned palm hat (at least when they attend church services).

The people here live the way they have for centuries. The language spoken is Tzotzil, not Spanish, they are governed autonomously, they have their own laws and their own police force. They have their own customs, their own traditional dress, and their own holidays and celebrations. Roles are defined traditionally, most of the women are weavers or embroiderers, and they gather together with their children to pursue their craft. The men are engaged in farming and other subsistence activities. The residents all belong to the same religion and to the same political party. If you don’t agree with the laws or the customs you are expelled from the town. Outsiders are not allowed to live in Zinacantán, only those from their own indigenous group.

Weaving generations together. The ongoing tradition of weaving on the back-strap loom or hip-loom follows the patterns that all parents know about gender roles and child rearing. The tradition has been maintained over the centuries because a Zinacantec girl’s body and mind are prepared from birth for weaving. At birth, a Zinacantec Maya girl is traditionally and symbolically presented with a weaving stick. A few years later, she practices kneeling, the weaving position, beside her mother at the hearth. Soon, play weaving begins to provide practice in the concepts and manual skills necessary for real weaving. Zinacantán women gather together in a home, they weave, they embroider, they breast-feed their children, they prepare meals.

But the Zinacantec culture is evolving from one of subsistence to one of commerce, from relying solely on the community to reaching outside, reaching beyond their immediate community and selling to outsiders. This is an enormous culture shift to a community that has been relatively isolated for so long, and it is evident in the evolution of their textiles over recent years.

The weaving and embroidery has expanded beyond blankets, shawls and huipils (shirts) and now includes tablecloths, placemats, and other commodities previously unknown here. But the tradition of hip-weaving and hand embroidery is labor intensive and time consuming and these traditional skills can not keep up with the demand. As in most of the world, mechanization is replacing handicrafts and these age old traditions will soon be lost.

Tortillas are prepared in the kitchen in the traditional laborious process. Maize (yellow, white, red, or blue corn) is cured in limewater to loosen the skin from the kernel, then ground by hand into masa harina. It is then kneaded into a dough, and finally shaped into tortillas that are cooked on an earthenware comal over an open fire. Served with a variety of indescribably delicious sauces, and a warm cup of atole, they are simply amazing! Offering food to a stranger is an elemental part of hospitality in all parts of the world, a welcoming into the community. Those who eat as we do, are as we are. There is no better way to connect people or bridge cultures. And what a complex and fascinating culture this is.

Photography by Bill Sheehan

Zinacantán, Mexico - March 2019