Wednesday, June 8, 2016

San Salvador Ixcatepec, a neighborhood Church of Tepoztlán.

A poem, a song, a love story between a slender palm tree that was to be embraced forever in the arms of her beloved "amate" tree, as their branches look upward to Heaven, seeking solace. This is legend of Ixcatepec.
Tepoztlán, like many other towns conquered in Nueva España during the first half of the 16th Century, was formed by an agglomeration of several "barrios" or neighborhoods.

The church of San Salvador was
established in 1732
One of these neighborhoods in Tepoztlán is Ixcatepec, which in the native Nahuatl language means "cotton hill", as there is a type of tree that blooms a flower with cotton-like fibers, which the local people used to spin fibers for weaving cloth. 

San Salvador has a single nave.
The patron of the neighbor of Ixcatepec is San Salvador.


Pulpit with gold leaf relief

Spandrel with Saint Mark
Saint Luke spandrel

Saint John the Evangelist

Saint Matthew
 Side chapel of San Salvador Ixcatepec Church
Stone-carved baptismal fountain

A plaque tells the story of this
neighborhood,  its sufferings
and diseases and how its faith
held it together.

Atrial Cross of Ixcatepec

Traditional bell tower with bells
on the first level and an electric
bullhorn on the second level.


The pious hands of a saint,
In the atrium of the church
A beautiful thin palm tree planted,
While a pilgrim nearby
During the feasts of May
Left a seed of an Amate tree.
Lullabied by the chimes of the church bells,
And underneath the cotton-like clouds,
Began a passionate love affair between the two.
While birds weaved with flowers the
The Bride´s wedding dress,
Singing 1000 praises to the Savior

Such beautiful memories,
With sighs were replaced,
As the Amate Tree bathed himself in bitter tears,
Like the wax of lace that the marchers in the procession wear,
During the feasts of May.

One night, under the full moon,
The palm tree died, and the Amate
Wrapped her around in his arms,
Hugging her and hanging onto her memory,
Always looking towards Heaven,
The Amate was drown in sadness.

Now they point their green branches heavenward,
As if they were awaiting a miracle,
Like the wax of the lace,
In the processions of the
Feasts of May.



The poem of Legendary Tree of

The legendary tree of Ixcatepec


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