ABSTRACT
A drum is playing and the thin reedy song of the oboe-like chirimia in the Guatemalan highland town of Joyabaj. Dancers dressed in heavy costumes and thick wooden masks trace the back and forth steps of the Baile de la Culebra (Dance of the Snake) in which the snakes are real and poisonous. Dancers repeat the yearly rituals of being contracted to work on the sugarcane plantations on the steamy Pacific coast by an indigenous man dressed as a Spaniard in blonde wooden curls. He bends one over to use his back as a table to mark down men’s names and how much they owe for the drink he just bought them—an act I’ve seen repeated out of costume, that is, in “real” life. Meanwhile the contratista’s (contractor) two companions, his “wife” ([cross]dressed in the huipil 2 of the department capital—not a local woman) and his “shaman” or Maxe, in the traditional dress of nearby Chichicastenango, seem to be dallying behind his back. In the slow rhythms of the dance the workers plan a revolt against the labor contractor. Plans are made and rituals performed, including handling the snakes, which are placed under the master’s clothes while he is sleeping. After much struggle he dies and the workers rejoice. But their joy is short-lived as the Maxe or shaman performs spells that bring him back to life. Things seem to go back to the way they were.
