Beware Tiliche July 24, 2022
Tonight is the opening salvo of Guelaguetza, the closest thing Oaxaca has to Carnival. Normally, our walk home from the old aqueducts of Arcos de Xochimilco takes maybe a dozen minutes, but our timing is wrong tonight, because downtown has been roped off for the grand parade that is about to commence.
Large crowds line the roped sidewalks at El Llano, with more on Calle Murgia and Calle Independencia. Either there are going to be multiple converging parades, or else there is but one long train that is planning to twist and turn its serpentine way toward the Zocalo. I am not sure which, and I do not want to find out, as once the marching bands arrive we will be trapped until the parade finally ends. And, as far as I can tell, that may not be until the end of the month.
We may be too late. I can already hear the approaching brass and drums, so we make haste to cross the roped barriers jammed with expectant families. Police are keeping the routes clear, so we crouch and make a mad dash from one line to the next on Reforma. This main thoroughfare is normally packed with cars but not tonight. Only a fool would try to navigate downtown Oaxaca tonight.
Speaking of fools, I have neglected to mention the most iconic characters featured at Guelaguetza—the Tiliches. These are the colorful scarecrows that symbolize the spirit of the celebration even more than the bobbing plaster heads, the dancers, and the mysterious whirling white globe. Tiliche is the jester, the mischief maker, and the closest thing Oaxaca has to a genuine Carnival character. He is the mascot featured on Guelaguetza promotional literature.
Tiliches (the word is slang for “stuff” or “trash”) are credited as being the traditional party costume from rural Putla, Oaxaca, but the colorful tattered ribbons that form the body of the costume are reminiscent of popular carnival characters found among the Afro-Caribbean islands, including the Pitchy Patchy Men of Jamaica and Pierrot Grenade of Trinidad. Unlike those playful clowns, however, Tiliches are faceless and, to my mind, more than a bit creepy.
Tiliche wears a stovepipe straw hat and frequently sports a dangling corncob nose, suggesting that his occupation for most of the year is to guard the maiz fields against predators. He is covered in dangling pieces of fabric from his neck to his brown leather boots, and his face is covered either with a sheet of fabric or an animal hide, allowing the faceless being to scare both crows and impressionable humans alike. Those festive rainbow colors are not fooling anybody. Show your face, fiend!
We barely make it home before the onslaught of the revelers, and Vanessa is feeling inspired by Tiliche. She gathers together some found objects and fashions a kind of Guelaguetza ornament, replete with dangling ribbons and a stovepipe sombrero, and she places it outside our window. Perhaps this will finally drive away the cursed bird that torments us every dawn. If she succeeds, that will leave just Tiliche to haunt my dreams.