March 2020
As we cross the heaving “Mercado 23” and push through the raucous crowds shouting and bartering around the endless array of market stalls, we come out into a quieter area at the back of the market. Here, the stale smell of sweat is replaced by that of fried food, tacos and pozoles. Having spent a fair amount of time in Mexico City, I am for the most part aware of the general dos and dont’s. Carrying expensive camera equipment in the middle of Tepito – an area preferably avoided at the best of times – for example, definitely falls into the latter category. But the opportunity to visit the neighbourhood during its monthly tribute to Nuestra Señora de la Santa Muerte (Our Lady of Holy Death) is one that could not be turned down.
La Santa Muerte – an intimidating skeletal figure holding a scythe – is a female deity in Mexican folk Catholicism. A personification of death, she is associated with healing, protection and safe delivery to the afterlife by her devotees; many of who, come from underprivileged or oppressed backgrounds such as Tepito. La Santa is particularly known for never discriminating against anyone and this is a key element of the religion, especially in such a macho country like Mexico with its extremely high levels of domestic violence and abuse against women. All this considered, I suppose I should not be surprised to see so many members of the LGBTQ community here.
As we come out into the far side of the Tepito, we eventually find Calle Alfarería where the crowds thicken again. The first thing that grasps my attention are the dozens of shrines that cover the length of both sides of the street. Some are intimidating in size – as high as two metres tall – while others are smaller and more modest. All of them are eye-catching, showing “La Huesada” (The Bony Lady) standing proudly, psythe in hand while wearing all kinds of different outfits; a crown, a wedding dress, or a variety of coloured gowns. Sometimes she also carries a crystal ball. Others, the scales of justice.
At first, I am not even sure if I should dare to take my camera out, let alone take a picture of the surreal scene playing out before us. Being the only foreigner definitely doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. I observe as locals stand proudly behind their tribute of the skeletal goddess and show off their personal homages to “La Madrina” (The Godmother) – whether that be their shrines, their tattoos or simply their knowledge – while simultaneously offering passerby’s aguardiente (a strong, clear, anise-flavored liqueur), marijuana cigarettes and hugs.
While trying to figure out the best course of action, a Mexican friend who has come with me, suggests buying a statue of La Santa. It’s a gem of an idea. As soon as I have the Santa in hand, everything changes. I begin to be approached from all directions from droves of people wanting to bless her. They spray “La Niña Blanca” (The White Girl) with tequila, with aguardiente and blow deep wafts of potent marijuana smoke at her.
Their openness convinces me to brave it and I take out my camera. Once I have, I could not have been more humbled. People embrace us, hug us and want to talk to us.
“What are you doing here güero?” (white boy) a man with a Santa tattoo across the front of his face asks me with a big smile. “Don’t be scared, we are so happy when you (the press) want to visit us and tell the world about ¨La Niña Bonita” (The Pretty Girl). Come come, take a picture of us!” he instructs me as he hugs his posse and they position themselves behind their statue of La Santa. “Make sure that “La Flaca” (The Skinny one) appears well in the picture ok? She’s the celebrated one, not us.” he stresses.
As a sign of respect to them and to the Santa, we place a flower on each shrine we take a photo of and in return, are given a gift as a sign of gratitude. These include lollipops, candy, handmade necklaces and even joints. None of these are meant for us of course, but are instead placed on the next shrine we stop to admire, worship and photograph.
Calle Alfarería itself isn’t overly long – a few hundred metres perhaps – but as we are embraced by old women, children, transgenders, the walk becomes slower; and more enjoyable.
About three quarters of the way down this street we find The Tepito Shrine. As the story goes, the shrine was erected in 2001, when one of Enriqueta Romero’s (or Doña Queta as she is better known as) seven sons brought home a gift for his mother; a five-foot statue of La Santa Muerte. Although at first Doña Queta wanted to keep the statue indoors, she soon had to move it outside as her home was too small. At the time, devotion to La Santa was a secret and private affair. People were amazed at her brazenly public act of devotion and slowly began to follow suit by bringing out their own Santa Muerte statues. Soon, and without ever having imagined it possible, she had revolutionized the cult, as her shrine started to attract a steady stream of followers from all over the country, eager to petition or thank the Santa for her assistance and her miracles.
And this is where the hundreds of people are heading towards now, many carrying statues of the Santa in their hands. Others have her slung over their shoulders, while the most pious even have her tattooed all over their backs and chests as they make their way down the street on their hands and knees.
Over the years, worship of the Santa has become intertwined with the idea of drug cartels and petty crime. However, despite strong condemnation by the Catholic Church – which has in the past issued a statement about her saying: “It’s not a religion just because it is dressed up as one. It’s a blasphemy against religion and everyone needs to put the brakes on this phenomenon, including families, churches and society.” – Santa Muerte now has an estimated 12 million followers of all ages and is said to be one of the fastest-growing religions in the world.
La Señora de las Sombras (Lady of the Shadows) is just one of many nicknames given to La Santa. Others include La Niña Negra (The Black Girl) and La Santísima (The most Saintly of them all). It’s hard to argue with that. As Doña Queta once said: “If you’re a narco, a low-life, a prostitute, then you’re not welcome in church. But here, anybody is welcome. Put simply, it’s a faith. For example, I’m not afraid of death, because I don’t know what it means to die. I don’t want to live in fear. I want to live with dignity. Every day. And when the time comes, I’ll go, but without fear.” And she has no doubts – La Santísima will receive her with open arms. The most saintly of them all.