December is the time for many Mexican celebrations. Some may dismiss Mexican events as irrelevant north of the border. But the influence of 60 million U.S. Latinos, of whom 50 million are of Mexican origin, makes everything relevant. Latinos persistently retain our customs and traditions. And we want to share them with our friends and neighbors. You don’t have to be Hispanic to join in the fun. From the standpoint of unity and harmony in this diverse country of ours, it’s good to know the customs and traditions of our neighbors even when we don’t necessarily observe them ourselves or even believe in what is celebrated. In the spirit of understanding, we can recognize one prominent fact about Mexican celebrations, religious or secular (the distinction between the spiritual and the mundane is often vague and ambivalent). They are almost always a mixture of the Indian and the Spanish. This is the process called mestizaje, or in academic terms “syncretism.”

The feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe on December 12 is the best example of syncretism. Guadalupe carries a lot of weight. The Mexican Madonna known as Our Lady of Guadalupe was the identity chosen by the Virgin Mary when she appeared on December 9-12,1531 to the Aztec Indian Juan Diego on the hill of Tepeyac near Mexico City. As a half-Spanish, half-Indian icon she has come to define Mexican identity and that’s important to know if we want to understand Mexico.

During my tour of duty in Vietnam my devout Catholic mother literally wore out her knees praying for me in front of the image of the young pregnant Mexican girl that we call Guadalupe. She is pregnant with the Christ Child who will soon be born at Christmas. And of course, I needed some healing. When I returned from Vietnam my memories of firefights kept me up at night. I was alienated from society, angry and bitter at the rejection and disrespect that so many returning war veterans received from our fellow Americans. I wanted to forswear American society and just go back to Vietnam and continue to fight the war. It was what I did best. I belonged in the war. It was a strange feeling, a combination of relief to be out of the war but at the same time a desire to return to the war. The truth is that I was severely tempted to go back to the war. I know that I was not alone in my attitude.

But the Lady in the picture told me not to go. I listened to her because I had grown up with her. The story is that this portrayal of the Virgin Mother of God miraculously imprinted itself on the rough cloth of the Indian’s tilma or poncho, woven from the coarse fibers of the maguey cactus. That alone is miracle enough. Almost 500-years later it’s still a vibrant color portrait of a woman dressed in the conventions of the Spanish Blessed Virgin but significantly with some marked Indian characteristics. This combination of disparate elements is syncretism, a term which means the amalgamation of distinct cultural and religious traditions to create a new kind of belief system. And that’s what Our Lady of Guadalupe is, a unique half-Spanish, half-Indian sacred image. You don’t have to believe in the miracle, but the fusion of European and indigenous cultures is useful to know because it explains the profound differences between the U.S. and our sister republic to the south. But anyway, I’m sure that my poor mother’s prayers had something to do with my safe return from the combat zone. And for that I am grateful.

There are other syncretic customs that mark the Christmas season. One year I watched the Matachines dancers at el Santuario de Chimayo, a shrine located between Santa Fe and Taos. The Black Christ of Esquipulas, a Christ figure with African characteristics, is honored there. Chimayo dates back to pre-Spanish times. The Pueblo Indians would come there to collect clay which they believed had healing power. New Mexicans carry on this tradition along with other syncretic rituals. The Matachines dancers reenact a syncretic ritualized combat between Moors and Christians which commemorates la Reconquista, the reconquest of Spain from the Muslim Moors. There are elements of Indian-Spanish conflict as well, but the elaborate dance is an art form with the message of reconciliation. It’s an impressive solemn beautiful syncretic dance combining Moorish, Catholic Christian, and Native American beliefs.

In 1972 I went there for the first time. The sacred earth was still there in a hole in the floor of the sanctuary. My Colorado College girlfriend who wanted to save me sprinkled some of the dirt on my head because she said that I was crazy. Well, I was. But what do you expect from a combat veteran just back from the war? Anyway, I felt better with that fine powder in my hair. And I felt relief because that sharp blade of war desire, that compulsion to return to the combat zone, wasn’t cutting me anymore.

And so, I took a big step forward. I began my long journey of reintegration into normal society.

Joe Barrera, Ph.D., is the former director of the Ethnic Studies Program at UCCS. He teaches Mexico/U.S. Border Studies and U.S. Military History.

Joe Barrera