La Sierra Mixe, part IV

“I don’t recommend that you take pictures here. The people can be a little closed-minded,” Juan Carlos said, “But I have to stop and put in coolant. The hotel’s open, but there’s no beds…”

Brandise and I walked around in the darkening fog, kids laughing and shouting. Three boys looked at us and turned their backs, focusing on their phones or the valley below. A group of kids walked up the hill to the left as I took this picture, carrying trumpets and French horns.

“Can I take a picture of the band?” I asked.

“We’re not a band yet, so no,” the oldest said. Shrill giggles and shrieks echoed in the fog, and I caught up to Brandise, where she was taking pictures near the church. 

A man in a handmade woolen shawl greeted us, wondering where we came from. Four more men walked up and formed a semi-circle around us. We were 100 miles away from Oaxaca City.

“What are you doing?” one asked.

“We’re visiting the Sierra Mixe,” I said, “Looking at waterfalls and getting to know the area with Juan Carlos. He lives in San Pedro.”

“Did you get permission?”

“For what?”

“For being here. You can’t take pictures of the church.”

The men started to tighten the circle around us. 

“Ok, we’ll just go back our car and leave,” I said, and we started to walk away. 

“You must get permission from the sindico,” he said behind us. 

We got back to Juan Carlos, who hadn’t found any coolant. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. Driving up the hill out of town, a policeman ran toward the taxi, ordering us to stop. 

“We have security cameras everywhere,” the officer said. 

At the station, Juan Carlos defended us in front of five angry cops, who insisted we needed permission to be there. 

Cold stares and old rifles made the fog seem thicker. Voices raised and feet shifted. Juan Carlos put up his hands and apologized before we followed him back to the car. 

“We have security cameras everywhere,” someone called after us. 

@rominahierro later explained that “usos y costumbres,” customary indigenous laws, are widely used in many communities and are officially recognized in Oaxaca. Asking permission to photograph in that town was part of that law.