Throughout 2020 and early 2021, Black Americans flocked to Mexican destinations such as Tulum/Playa de Carmen and Mexico City to find a release from the politics of race and the related stress.
During this same period, Afro Mexicans finally gained recognition as an ethnic group by the Mexican government. This was the culmination of a long political and grassroots campaign to claim their heritage and move towards education, awareness, and a multi-ethnic Mexico more befitting for its current landscape.
Knowing about both events struck me because of Black Americans’ widespread unawareness of each event despite their being in the diaspora. As my thoughts dwelled on the topic, I wondered how Black Americans were able to find freedom in Mexico when Black Mexicans were just starting to find the freedoms and political acceptance that has, until this point, been denied them and why are Afro Mexicans just being recognized 500 years after the importation of slaves into the country?
Introduction of Slavery into Mexico
Understanding how Afro Mexicans developed as a people requires knowing how they were introduced to North America. Starting in 1519, slaves were transported to what was then Nuevo Espana (New Spain) to replace indigenous laborers who had been decreasing in number due to hostile conditions and disease under the Spanish Empire.
Initially brought in via the Port of Veracruz on the Caribbean side, enslaved Africans were later transported to other points throughout the country, such as Guerrero State, named after Vincente Guerrero, an Afro Mexican with an Indigenous lineage. He became the third president who, until recently, had been white-washed and later worked to abolish slavery in most of the country.
Slaves were also said to have been introduced directly into Guerrero, but the story is disputed. This would be attributable to a story about a slave ship that started to sink off the southeast coast, forcing its “cargo” to jump off the ship and swim to shore.
Finally, the United States began inserting Afro descendants into the landscape via the states of Georgia and South Carolina prior to the American Civil War. Those who lived too far South could not escape to the North, so their next option was to go further South to freedom after Mexico abolished slavery in 1829.
What Is La Raza?
Prior to revisiting Mexico, I reached out to Dr. Talia Weltman-Cisneros who has worked extensively with groups such as Mexico Negro to bring attention to the plight of Afro Mexicans. My first question was why have Afro Mexicans been ignored and unnoticed for so long?
The answer began with La Raza. When Mexicans was forming a union, they decided to create a single “mixed” race group of people with a similar history and language. The best option was the mix of the Indigenous and Spanish. Those with black ancestry were neglected because the authorities stated they did not have an actual language.
When I asked how Black Americans can be mostly unaware of the existence of Afro Mexicans, the answer was twofold. The first was the privilege of traveling while being an American often shielded travelers from learning about the realities of life in the so-called destinations. The second is the adversity that the Afro Mexicans experience at home. To many Mexican nationals, Afro Mexicans simply do not exist. Darker skin in a family may come with adversity within one’s own household. Some people have been deported because they were not seen as being Mexican at all. This happened even after people verified their identification sang the national anthem as a test of their patriotism. The biggest hurtle is that the African part of the narrative is not taught in schools. Instead, the responsibility falls upon families who recognize their blackness to pass their stories to their children and grandchildren.
Acapulco
Coming from the onset of winter on the East Coast, the flight was relatively short with a layover in Houston. As I exited the plane, the humidity hit me, forcing me to mentally prepare for the change in climate. As my taxi arrived to my hotel near Zocalo, the main plaza in Acapulco, I looked out the window like a child taking in the new environment and anxious to learn more about the state.
While people watching, I paid close attention to the people around me and wondered who identified as black and who did not. I wanted to know more, but was uncomfortable bringing up such a sticky topic so much so that later when a gentleman called me “hermano” at La Quebrada Cliffs, I did not have the courage to ask him why he addressed me in such a way.
I paid attention to Acapulco, which told me more than I had initially imagined about the myth of La Raza. As you get closer to the beaches that dot it’s coast you see how unapologetically stuck in the 1950s and 1960s. There are posters of the Reagans and Kennedys in their youth. Yet it was the Filipino restaurants and an Asian influence created by those who decided to stay in Nuevo Espana when the Philippines were also a Spanish territory. This realization made me pause and discover that there were other groups written out of La Raza.
Yet it was my visit to the Mercado that brought a sense of happiness over a bowl of pozole (local indigenous dish served only on Thursdays, and its origins tracing back to cannibalism). As the chef served our meals, a local guide that had heard me asking about Afro Mexicans revealed that the she descended from slaves who swam to shore from a sinking ship off the southwest coast of Guerreo. When I asked directly if this was true, she adamantly said, “Yes, it’s true.” When I asked why Afro Mexicans are so seldom heard from or mentioned, her accurate response made me smile, “We are here. It is not our fault that no one else took notice.”
Costa Chica (Short Coast)
After a few days, I took the Alta Mar Bus Line for the five-hour trek south (Route 200) of Acapulco to Cuajinipulica, or Cuaj as the locals call it. This is an area known for its high percentage of Afro- descended population, but the sense I had was that they were tucked away on purpose. Take another bus line north of Acapulco on the same road now titled Costa Grande (Route 200) to Zihantanejo. The roads are in great condition, smooth with great views. Going south, to Cuaj, there were always delays, traffic, poor maintenance, all leaving me with the sense that there was no effort to create an accessible tourism route for those in the diaspora who may want to know about Afro Mexican heritage.
Finally arriving in Cuaj, I immediately saw all the faces that looked like mine and a sense of serenity rushed over me. Walking slowly down Gral Porfirio Diaz, people watching and taking note of places to revisit later.
By this time, I was famished, but there was another objective behind my visit. I wanted to visit the Museo de las Culturas Afromestizas (Museum of Afro Mestizo Cultural) to learn the in-depth stories of Africans who were imported into the country and their struggles as well as their successes.
On either end of town you can find murals urging those who identify as Afro Mexican to state it in the 2020 census. I learned that pride in Blackness was not spontaneous; instead, it started in the homes.
Angelica Sorro acts as the curator for the museum. Upon arrival, I received a note informing me to call and she will be right over to let me in and give me a tour. So excited to finally visit, I stammered and kept thanking Senora Sorro (calling her Hermana) as she walked me through the museum.
It was strange, so much paralleled what I had already known because the narrative was so similar to what transpired throughout the United States and Caribbean, but the views on what connotes for blackness were significantly different.
I came right out with my question, “Was it fair for Black Americans to proclaim Mexico was a haven from racism with their plight just starting?”
She took a moment to respond and simply stated “No.” Her follow-up filled in the blanks that the community is small and just now is being noticed. “How could those from the outside possibly know about us when we are just claiming our roots?”
I asked, “Where have you been and why now?
She reminded me that blackness is not taught in school. It is taught at home and primarily in the states of Guerrero, Oaxaca, and Veracruz, which have the majority of Afro Mexicans. “Many outside of those states still do not know we exist, but with the current census making them an official ethnic group and activists such as Mexico Negro AC, over time we will be more recognized.”
Me: “How is the museum helping with recognition of Afro Mexicans?”
Angelica: “The museum is a very important instrument because we talk about who we are and where we come from and we are treating it as a preschool so children recognize they are Afro Mexicans.” “The information we give here is to not ignore their origin and to take pride in it”
As I took in what was told, her hands folded into fists placing themselves on her hips with a quick stomp and yell. It looked familiar but could not place it simply asking what it was but instead was instructed on my part in the action.
This was my introduction to the “Danza de Diablos” (Dance of the Devil), which is part of a ritual to the god Ruja who is celebrated due to delivering the enslaved from their confinement. Invigorated by what I had learned, I invited Senora Sorro to have lunch at the market. While enjoying my dessert, I met Serena Maria, who after a few words with Angelica, looked at me and said in English, “Pull out your camera and take a picture of proud Afro Mexicans, so when you go home you can tell people that we are waiting for them to visit us.” Over cups of Jell-O, I was informed that their were enclaves of Afro Mexicans in the U.S. in places such as Lancaster, PA, and Winston–Salem, NC, which shocked me since I had not known of this prior to the conversation.
A causal drive through town gives the impression that Cuaj has nothing to offer travelers. But to those in the diaspora or anyone who has interest in learning of Nuevo Espana’s role in the slave trade, it is a must visit town, especially since it cannot be found in any tourism publications.
The next day, I grabbed a collective taxi and made the 30-minute trek to the southwestern coast. Simply called “El Faro” (lighthouse) by the locals, actually named Punto Maldonado, calling it anything else may get a puzzled look before the realization of where I was referring to. Here, the story originated of the slave ship that sank off the coast and the slaves swam to shore.
In this very small town, I was able to meet the lighthouse keeper who allowed me to get an eagle-eye view of the coast before making my way down to the beach. Over a few Victorias (local beer), I met Victor who stated his wife is Afro Mexican but his origin is of a mixed Filipino and Indigenous background.
From our conversation, I learned more about the surrounding area.
Victor said, “The Afro Mexicans who are descended from those who swam to shore have long left this area. They live mostly in small towns even closer to the Oaxaca border but not here.”
Our conversation turned into tourism. The rough beaches, the relaxing vibe, the fresh ceviche. Made the destination ideal, but it is a hike to get here.
“Yes, we would like to see tourists, but there is no local airport and the bus takes many hours to arrive. Faro has only two hotels and there are extra rooms above small restaurants.
It was at that moment that Victor revealed that he had also lived in Winston-Salem for some time, but because of the lack of opportunities in the area, he eventually came back to his hometown.
An SUV rolled into view and a Mexican family go out and starting taking in the views and venturing further along the muddy path ahead. The SUV followed as their guide showed them around the port and told them about the history of the area. At least the story is being told, I said to myself as outsides I settled my tab and jumped in the SUV to return to Cuaj and back up Route 200.
Veracruz
I was much more excited to visit Veracruz. Learning of the history of the region from my father’s library, I was eager to learn more about it, but instead found that it was not what I had expected. It felt artificial and new. More like Panama City or Miami, but without the cultural stamp present in those cities. A conversation with Jimena of eco-tour company Manglareando revealed that the city was redone to have broader appeal but at the loss of its cultural background.
Veracruz does not get many international travelers, just mostly nationals visiting from other states who were drawn to its historical significance, which Jarochos (Veracruzano) sometimes ignore. A huge naval port, it was not too far away that Hernan Cortez arrived upon the shores of the True Cross (Veracruz) and eventually conquer the Aztec, which lead way to the colonization of the landmass.
Like all old cities, traces of the past often hide in plain sight. I explored Barrio de la Huaca, which had been developed by enslaved Afro Mexicans who lived outside the walls of Original Veracruz. Upon leaving the city and meeting both local historian Antonio Herrera and Efrain Blanco from the Consejos Afro (Afro Councils) of Mata Clara, Yanga, and Cuitlahuac, I learned more about Yanga.
Yanga
The stories of Gasper Yanga (Nyanga), an enslaved African prince who in 1570 led slaves to freedom and formed the first free black settlement in the Americas via a mix of guile, and the offer of peace under the condition of freedom are what brought me to the UNESCO heritage site once known as San Lorenzo de Los Negros.
Unfortunately, except for academics and an occasional tourist, the town of Yanga does not receive too many visitors. Yet the locals are trying to remedy that by working with tour guides and companies to offer day trips to the region.
As the tour took us to the main square, I noticed how welcoming everyone was. My initial thought was that they were being kind because of the company I was with, but Antonio stated that this was not true. Locals wanted me to know that everyone is invited to Yanga and they gave me their own two cents to the tale.
“Do you know about Yanga?” Was often iterated to me as our tour ran behind due to everyone telling me his story and about themselves. It was not expected but heartfelt.
It was infectious to hear people state that they were proud to be Afro Mexican, yet as I learned from Efrain, not all the towns in the region shared this sentiment. In fact, despite the census that gave the opportunity to identify as Afro Mexican, huge populations chose not to, due to a mix of familiar pressure, colorism, and imagined threats this choice may bring about.
Staying mostly quiet during my education about Yanga, I chose now to ask questions.
“Why wouldn’t a town not want to recognize their black communities”
Efrain explained the colorism that happens within families and the possible threat seen by other communities. A burgeoning worry is that Afro Mexicans will want more freedoms and liberties which could put other groups in the position of losing their own advances.
As he continued the revelation came that claiming heritage could also mean losing family or being ostracized. Unfortunately for some being black could be thought of as unfortunate or shameful. The Abuelita in the closet or the unattractive hermano (brother) compared to the other son with the fair skin. There are even those that self distance feeling removed from family and friends due to alienation or self hate.
So once more, I posed the question of tourism and comments made by Black Americans while vacationing. The response was directed towards the lack of interest by the tourism board that has assisted in keeping potential tourists oblivious to both Yanga and Afro Mexicans.
Tourism was now a local initiative. Both to other Mexicans and International travelers. If their stories would not be shared then they had to bring them to tourists.
Jamapa
On one of my last days in Veracruz, I took an additional tour with private guide Marce Cardozo to learn about the traditions and cultural impact of Afro Mexicans to the region. The tour led to a small town called Jamapa where we stopped at a kindergarten whose curriculum includes teaching children about their heritage and creating awareness of Afro Mexicans within the country.
From our conversations, I learned that because the Afro Mexican population is so small, they don’t make many waves within the country, but over time, they hope subsequent generations will claim their blackness and help spread it beyond Veracruz and become a part of the education given in all states.
Eyeing the books on Afro Mexican culture and history. I remembered the stories and murals of mixed African and indigenous Mexican heroes whose likeliness as white washed characters where now being portrayed accurately. Vincent Guerrero, Jose Maria Morelos y Pavon, Benito Juarez, Father Hidalgo which were featured on murals, walls, and books throughout the places I had visited. Their faces serving as reinforcement that Afro Mexicans have a heritage within the country that must not be forgotten.
Centralized education formed by Jose Vasconcelos in his role as minister of public education (1921 -1924) played a part in keeping Afro Mexicans and other groups out of schools as a form of racial amnesia. It was the regionalized education in Veracruz, Oaxaca, and Guerreo that formed a back bone to the education given within homes that helped propel the recognition of Afro Mexicans.
I had to admit to being overwhelmed by everyone. Sharing with everyone that in the U.S. we call ourselves brother and sister because we are all family who became separated in the slave trade. Looking around the room, there where faces similar to my mother, friends, and neighbors—all family, all black. No matter how light their brown or black skin is, we are all from the same place and were simply brought to different countries. Hopefully, they can get to the point where they can feel comfortable calling themselves family.
As I walked out the room, the town gossipers whispered to themselves “hermanos y hermanas” with smiles on their faces.
Wrap Up
As my time in Mexico came to a close, I decided to take a few days to explore other parts of the country. While I was staring at a menu in Zacatecas, a man suddenly got within inches of me and said “Cubano?”
I responded, “No.”
Dominicano?
“No.”
“Nigerian?”
“No.” I responded in Spanish “Mexicano, but where in Africa are you from?” He gave me a puzzled look and walked away.
The brief exchange reminded me that outside specific states, Afro Mexicans are not recognized as anything other than tourists or the family member with the darker skin. It is easy to visit places like Tulum and think everything is perfect while on vacation, but vacations are also the prime time to learn about the destinations being visited.
I often hear, “While I’m on vacation, I want to relax, not learn” or “Life is stressful enough,” but what does it say about the traveler who only knows the bare basics of a destination and not the actual people who populate its land? The mindset of, “ears open, mouth closed,” has been my guide. Following that adage has found me connecting with so many new faces, thoughts, and perspectives that it’s difficult to sum up most destinations in a few words.
The month I spent in Mexico showed me that I truly did not know the country but instead had been circling the water without diving in. I hope that the continued recognition of Afro Mexicans will convince Black and Brown Americans that there is more to Mexico than Tulum and that the struggles of those in the diaspora should be known to us. If the world can support and react to protests in the U.S., why not the other way around?
Fin.
img. Afro Mexican women from Cuaj. (Angelica Sorro on the right)
img. El Faro site of crashed slave ship in the late 19th Century.
img. Mask used in the Danza de los Diablos
img. mural in museum in Jamapa, Veracruz
img A photo with myself (center back), staff, and locals from Afro Mexican elementary school in Jampa.
img. mural of various Mexican heroes including Vincente Guerrero.
Thanks, Keshler:); I had begun to learn about Black people in Mexico recently, interwoven with the story of Black Americans deciding to leave the U.S. and move to Tulum, etc., for the long-term in some cases, but this is the first written treatment of the issue I've read.
Thanks for the interesting and striking reminder of the parallels between the European conquests of the US and Mexico. This white Norteamericano had not learned about this angle before reading this.