+•+•+ACT ONE+•+•+

The most-visited Catholic shrine in the world is in Mexico City, a city built on what was once the capital of the Aztec Empire. The shrine is dedicated to an apparition of the Virgin Mary who appeared in the year 1531 to a Chichimec peasant and his uncle—Juan Diego and Juan Bernardino—whose story was documented in Nahuatl—a pre-colonial language belonging to the Aztec/Mexica people and later translated to Spanish.

According to the legend, a Marian apparition appeared before Juan Diego at the top of Tepeyac Hill, speaking to him in Nahuatl she identified herself as the “mother of the very true deity” and instructed him to build a shrine to her honor in that place.

Juan Diego agreed to fulfill her wish and sought the help of the Archbishop. However, his vision of the holy mother was met with skepticism. The Archbishop did not believe Juan, instead, he instructed him to return to the site of his vision and ask her to validate her claim in the form of a miracle. 

Juan returned to the site and encountered her once again, upon relaying the request of the Archbishop, she agreed to deliver a miracle and instructed him to return the following day. Unfortunately, Juan’s uncle (also named Juan), became very ill and required his care, and Juan could not return to receive the miracle as instructed. Uncle Juan Bernardino ‘s health declined so rapidly, that Juan Diego decided to head to Tlatelolco in search of a priest to hear his uncle’s final confession. The simplest route would have taken him directly through the site of his apparition, but consumed in shame Juan Diego decided to choose a longer route that would not require passage through Tepeyac Hill.

As Juan Diego was making this walk of shame, the holy mother appeared to him, chiding him for not trusting her she said: “Am I not here, who is your Mother? Are you not under my protection? Am I not your health? Are you not happily within my fold? What else do you wish? Do not grieve nor be disturbed by anything.” She told him that she had cured his uncle, and instructed him to return to the path of her miracle at Tepeyac Hill. As Juan reached the summit he saw the hill which was usually barren during this time of year, was now covered with flowers, specifically red roses—a flower not native to Mexico. There the Holy Mother met him and stuffed his tilmàtli (garment) full of flowers, and instructed him to take them to the Archbishop.

Juan obediently returned to the Archbishop to deliver the miracle and to plead once again for a shrine to be erected in her honor. As he approached the Archbishop, Juan opened his cloak, and the flowers fell to the floor, revealing the divine image of his apparition on the fabric. In the image, she stood brown-skinned, heavily pregnant, and surrounded by golden feathers. Her mantel was covered with all the stars of the heavens, and her hands pressed together in prayer. The archbishop was convinced, but the miracle was not yet complete.

Upon his return home, Juan found his Uncle Juan had fully recovered from his illness. He had been visited bedside by the spirit of the Mother, and she had instructed him to tell the story of his miraculous recovery to the same Archbishop—adding that she wished to be called by the name Guadalupe.

Upon receiving the miracle from Juan Diego, and witnessing the miraculous recovery of Uncle Juan—the Archbishop ordered a basilica be constructed in honor of Santa María de Guadalupe at the site of Juan Diego’s vision on Tepyac Hill.

Each year, the anniversary of the vision of Guadalupe is celebrated by people who make pilgrimages to the holy site where they dance, pray, and lay flowers and candles out as an offering. For the diaspora, who have settled too far to make the annual pilgrimage, shrines covered in flowers and lights are erected in homes and neighborhoods where people devote prayer and song to her honor.

+•+•+ACT TWO+•+•+

On a mountain, above the first nine levels of heaven, the divine siblings Xochiquetzal, the mother of all humans, and Xhochipilli the Flower Prince have waited hopeful and patient for the Spanish Conquistadors to retreat from the land of the Anahuac Valley so they may return to their people and restore the fading flower world.

Xochiquetzal sits before her obsidian mirror, applying colorful make-up to the lower half of her face. She switches her gaze from her own image, to the reflection of her brother Xochipilli. He stands behind her pruning flowers from the morning glory vines that cling to the trunk of the tree that runs through the center of the flower realm.

“Another Panquetzaliztli, and no festival. It’s been ten years since those pinche Spaniards stepped off those boats and destroyed the temple of Huitzilopochtli. The pendejos even burned our libraries to the ground—once we are forgotten by our people—they will have wiped us out completely!”

Xochipilli clicks his tongue. “Tsht. I see they’ve even got you using their swear words.”

“They don’t deserve to be cursed in our tongue.” she quipped. “Don’t you miss the festivals?”

“I do. I miss their dancing the most.” Xochipilli lets out a heavy sigh, as another flower falls into his basket and his eyes stare off into distant memories. “With my gifts, they could dance from sunset to sunrise.”

“Who could dance draped in all that heavy fabric they wear now?!” Xochiquetzal rolls her eyes up toward the 13th heaven.

“HIDEOUS!” Xochiplli quickly replies. He lets out a fake wretch of disgust, his tongue extended toward the floor, where a coral snake has begun to curl itself around one of his feet for warmth.

“No dancing, no flowers, barely any altars left to place an offering. And even if they wanted to, the conquerers have forbidden our people from practicing their devotions.” Xochiquetzal was now standing and pacing the floor.

“Have you seen those monstrosities they’ve constructed from the rubble of our great temples? What God demands that devotion be practiced indoors?! With hushed voices? While sitting completely still!” Another flower falls into the basket, as Xochipilli turns his pruning focus toward the earth.

“Brother, we are in our final days. Chalchiuhtotolin has warned us of a coming plague, and without an altar or offerings, we will not have the power to save our people.” She began to twist the fabric of her huipil in her hands.

“I know this sister, I’ve thought about this too. If we can’t save our people, we will also die along with their memories.”

“We have to think of something. How can we save them? How can we save ourselves? You are the trickster in our family, you must have some clever idea?!” Xochiquetzel taps her finger on her brother’s head.

Xōchipilli sits down with his basket in his lap and turns his head toward the sky. “We need a new temple, one our people won’t abandon and the Spaniards can’t tear down.” He plucks a mushroom from the floor and slowly twirls it between his fingertips and as he drops it into the basket he begins to giggle. “It has to be a temple that we know belongs to us, but the Spaniards think belongs to them.”

“YES! BRILLIANT!” Xochiquetzal leans down and playfully slaps both his cheeks at once.

She takes a beat to think. Suddenly skeptical she asks, “How will we know it belongs to us?”

“We will instruct our people to make the top of Tepeyac Hill the site of our new temple, and we will know it stands in honor of our once great empire,” Xōchipilli began to explain his plan “The Spaniards will think it belongs to them because they are going to build it.”

“The Spaniards are going to build a temple dedicated to us?! You’re mad! Have you been eating out of your own basket again?” Xochiquetzal cocks her head to the side, eyebrows raised and suspicious.

Xochipilli is now standing, his skin is glowing and giant golden petals are beginning to emerge from his crown. This only happens when he is feeling his power.

“Yes! This plan is crazy—but all genius requires a little crazy. Right?” Xochipilli stuffs a single flower into his mouth. “Do you trust me?” he asks as he chews the purple bloom into a gummy paste.

“You are my twin, we are the same spirit, of course I trust you.” she plucks a flower from his basket and stuffs it into her mouth.

Xochipilli looks back at his sister, a big grin slowly stretches across his face, and his eyes begin to sparkle. “Do you still have your pregnancy belt?”

“The black one? I only wear that when I am called to protect a mother in childbirth. It’s been so long…but I am sure it is here somewhere.” Xochiquetzal begins sifting through her garments in search of the belt.

“You are going to need it for this performance.” Xochipilli begins sifting through the pile of garments with his sister as he continues to share his plan “We’ll also have to remove your makeup, and cover you from head to toe in fabric.” He explains as he pulls out a dress she has never seen before.

“Oh no!” she says, as he holds it up to her shoulders. “Not unless I get to pick the color.”

“Of course you need to pick the color.” he says as he drops the garment over her head.

As the dress falls over Xochiquetzal, the fabric becomes as red as the earth and is covered in a golden floral brocade.

“RED!? You are a testy one sister!” Xochipilli laughs and pulls his sister’s celestial mantel out of the pile, he drapes it over her head and shoulders. He takes his hands in hers, lifts them to her chest and presses her palms together. He spins her back toward her mirror and they both burst out laughing.

“Oh Girl, you look just like her.”

“But better!” Xochiquetzal smiles as she fixes the pregnancy belt around her hips and her belly blooms into a large round dome.

Xochiquetzal looks at her brother suddenly serious “I don’t think I can do this alone.”

“Oh, no boo. We’re going together,” he assures her as he transforms the contents of his basket into a fine powder and pours it into a small leather pouch. “as one.”

He embraces her, and as he becomes her, and she him they begin to glow like the sun.

For a moment Xochiquetzal looks relieved, but still not confident. “Do you think they will celebrate us the way they used to? With flowers, and dancing and food?”

Xochipilli begins to apply a tiny bit of pink cream to his sister’s cheeks and lips“Yes, but no more auto-sacrificial offerings. We can’t afford to lose any more of them, and it really freaks out the Spaniards.”

“I agree. But, this can’t be just for us, how will we include all of the others? Tezcatlipoca? Chalchiuhtlicue? Tláloc?”

Xōchipilli thinks it over for a moment, and reassures her “Well, since all of us have shared our dominion over the serpent, we will tell them to call us “‘Coatlaxopeuh (pronounced Quahtl-a-shoo-peh)”

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Contexts for understanding:

Aztec is often used to describe several Nahuatl-speaking peoples, especially the Mexica, of the postclassic period of Mesoamerica who had established a hegemonic empire in Tenochtitlan (modern day Mexico City).

The Aztecs kept meticulous records, maintaining libraries of books that documented their spiritual practices, governing policies, and genealogies. The Catholic priests who followed the arrival of the Spanish conquistadors in 1519, began their conquest to convert the Mexica people by burning entire libraries to the ground. Only two Pre-Hispanic Codices survived. The conversion of indigenous Mexicans is the largest Christian conversion event in the history of the religion.

Tepeyac Hill was a devotional site dedicated to encountering the maternal aspects of Aztec Godesses which included Tonantzin, Coatlicue, Cihuacóatl, Xochiquetzal.

Xochipilli (flower prince) and Xochiquetzal (precious flower feather) are two of the oldest deities in the Aztec pantheon. Their identities are tied to one another, and in various stories, they are presented as brother and sister, husband and wife, sometimes they share a body and are the same person at the same time. The duality expressed in each iteration illustrates that these two very special beings exist as aspects of the same thing, not opposite ends of a spectrum. Together they illustrate a relational attachment so deep that the place where one being ends and the other begins becomes blurry.

Xoxhipilli is the God of flowers, summer, pleasure, love, dance, and creativity. Xochipilli is also the God of homosexuality and protector of male escorts. He is the caretaker of hallucinogenic plants and serves as an eager guide to those who choose to visit to the Flower World.

Xochiquetzal is the Goddess of glamour, beauty, pleasure (specifically sexual pleasure), and pregnancy. She is the mother of all humans. Xochiquetzal is also the patroness of artists and artisans. She is often depicted wearing a feathered crown, and surrounded by flowers.

The epidemic of cocoliztli that began in 1545 nearly decimated the Mexica people killing up to 80% of the native population of Mexico.