The Rainbow House - Casa Acozamalotl

Chicome, Mi Corazon Mexica

Nicté-Ha Season 2 Episode 9

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Meet Chicome, the creative powerhouse behind Mi Corazon Mexica. Tune in as he discusses his artistic and spiritual journey, the importance of reconnecting with indigenous roots, and his deep love for his people and history. He shares insights into the Wixáritari people, from whom he descends, the influence of his family on his art, and the evolution of his artistic expression through ceremony. We explore the complexities of modern indigenous spirituality that he has experienced in Mexico and California, the tension between indigenous and Western cultures, decolonization, and the complexity of navigating the art world as a white-presenting gay Chicano. 

For more about Chicome:

https://www.instagram.com/micorazonmexica/

https://www.etsy.com/es/shop/MiCorazonMexica

https://www.facebook.com/MiCorazonMexica/

https://www.deviantart.com/micorazonmexica

https://x.com/MiCorazonMexica

https://www.youtube.com/@corazonmexica2016

Nicte-Ha:

This guest is someone I am absolutely thrilled to my core to be able to bring onto my podcast. Chicome is a professional fine artist whose work I have followed and admired for years. His work has been featured internationally in many galleries and shows. He's a conchero dancer and deeply involved in leadership of Acalpuli in Mexico City, where he regularly participates in and features historically accurate rituals on his Instagram and other social media accounts. He's also the artist behind Nicolason Mexica, a multi-platform brand that features his artwork books and other creative collaborations. He is, I think, a spiritual leader, a scholar, an incredibly talented artist, and a very generous person with his time and his knowledge. I was so honored to have him speak about his journey on my podcast, his art, his religion, his process, and his history. I just want to say thank you to Chico Met, and I hope that you, the listeners of the Rainbow House, will also enjoy what he has to say. I'm so excited to talk to you. This is such an honor. It's lovely to talk to you too. Um, and so uh I, you know, I'm gonna do a little preview opening for people, but if you can just introduce yourself to the listeners of the podcast and just talk about who you are, where you're where you're currently at, and the work that you do. You will dive into those in more detail. But if you can give us just an overview to introduce yourself, that would be wonderful.

Chicome:

Well, I'm uh Chico Mate Squinli Amatapali, which is my ceremonial name. The name my parents gave me is David Gramar Romero. I'm Chicano, I'm from LA, and I'm mixed race. My dad's white, and my mom is Mexican, and she's also mixed race, and her mother is Huirarica, which is a tribe from like Jalisco, Nayari, that area. And um so I'm an artist, and uh my work is about reconnecting with our ancestral roots. So my my grandmother, my great-grandmother was the last person in my family to speak Huida. And uh my grandmother was taken away from her family, and she was raised by a mainstream like mestizo Mexican family, and uh, but she was very little. So, like in her generation, like she lost the language and the culture and all that, but she didn't lose the racism. Like people treated her really badly for being Native American. So I, you know, like I feel you know, it's like claiming indigeneity is I think it's difficult when you're detribalized and your family has been removed from the context in which they originally were. So I usually don't say that I am Wida, but I will say that I am a Wida descent. And um, because it's like and I the reason I'm hesit hesitant to say I'm Wida is because there's no Wida community that would say, like, oh yes, you're definitely part of us, or you're like belong, you know, like like uh I I don't belong in that way. And that's what my work is about. My work is about like how do we find our way back to indigenous identity and indigenous spirituality in particular, when you know, through history we've that's been taken away from us. And the reason that I feel like, even though I feel like I'm hesitant to say that I have a particular tribal identity that I can unhesitatingly say that's what I am, I don't feel the same way by claiming Native Americann-ness, which is funny, because I feel like my grandmother may not have gotten the culture, which is what would allow us in language, which would allow us to say that we're Wida, but like she did get the racism, and that's because of being Native American. My mother did too. So, you know, they ended up going to the United States as undocumented immigrants, which is why I was, you know, raised there. And so, like, my life story has been defined by the indigenous identity of my mother and my grandmother. So that's that's part of it. And then the other part of it is that I practice ceremony in Mexico. So I started doing ceremony when I was in the US. I do uh like concheto ceremony, which is a kind of intertribal tradition, which is mostly done by people who are in a situation similar to mine, where people who are detribalized, not everybody. A lot of people who are conchetto dancers or straight up whatever tribe it is that they belong to, you know, like my own my own kakuli has members who are masawa, oh my god, uh Purepecha, and there's another Awave from um the coast of Oaxaca. And uh they are not detribalized, and they practice uh conchero ceremony with me. Uh so you know, and so I do that, and I've been doing that for a long time. I'm the capitana of my group. I've been I'm a firebearer in ceremony, um, and uh yeah, that's what I do.

Nicte-Ha:

And so you mentioned your great-grandmother is Wida. And so I think that some a lot of folks here in the United States, you know, we're very familiar with because I'm I'm based in Chicago, and I think a lot of the people that listen to me or the people that listen to me, I can't say a lot. They are familiar with American Native American tribes here in the United States, like the you know, the Lakota and the Cherokee and all of that. And so if you can explain where the Wira people are traditionally from, and are there still there, it sounds like there are still Wira communities extant in intact in Mexico. And so can you talk a little bit about where the Wira people come from in within Mexico?

Chicome:

Yeah, so Wida is short for Wiraica, and that's the name that Wira people call themselves or maybe ourselves. And Huichol is the more common name, that's the name that most people would know. So my grandmother, I could also say that she was Huichola. So the Wira are from Jalisco, where it met meets uh Zacatecas and a little bit from Nayarit, and you know, it's like they live at they live up in the mountains, and and there's like hundreds of thousands of of Wira people. So there's there's like some there's small communities, but there's a a lot of them. And uh the we the Wida tribe is also one of the the nations that's um it's they're they're pretty famous actually in in Mexico. It's like we we like there's a really strong tradition, an art making tradition, and they're also particularly known for peyote and like uh having a lot of uh ceremonies around peyote. So it's like and they're also very like um outgoing. So it's like the the Cora, the Cora live right next to the Wida, but the Cora are very like insular and they kind of stayed to themselves, so they're not as well known. But but uh the Wida like did travel all over Mexico and they sell art crafts and you know, so like they're they're very like famous within Mexico. And my grandmother is is uh is Wida or was Wida anyway.

Nicte-Ha:

Are are your grandmother and your your mother are they both artists as well? And what are their names? Because I I've heard of the Weech old people mostly I think because related to beating, yeah. And so I know they're really famous for beating and a few other, I think like a paper art form. But what is what's your mother and your grandmother's names, and are they both artists as well?

Chicome:

Well, my grandmother was uh Justina de Leon and my mother is Rebecca Grimmard Romero. And no, they weren't artists, but they were like they're heart, they have the souls of artists. They weren't artists because they didn't have like they were in an underprivileged situation where being an artist wasn't really an option for them, you know, in my opinion. Like my but my grandmother was an amazing, she was a seamstress and she was an amazing, she did embroidery and things like that. Like her her crafts are pretty conventional, you know. There were like flowers and you know, things that are you know pretty conventional. Like I never saw her like really I never seen anything where she really goes crazy. My mother, on the other hand, goes crazy. Like she makes some truly wild, beautiful things, you know, but like she was an undocumented immigrant in the US. She worked in a sweatshop, you know. Like uh she ended up opening a little. I grew up in a with a dressmaking store in our living room where my mom made quinceanieta dresses, you know. Like, so like she wasn't given the opportunity for like you know, girls who want quinceaneta dresses don't normally want like avant-garde like works of art, you know. So like uh she didn't really have the opportunity when I was growing up to like make, you know, like to express herself. But now that I'm an adult, I do a lot of work with my mother. Like I make really elaborate embroidery designs, and my mother is fearless. And she will take you know a 10-foot-long piece of fabric and completely embroider the whole damn thing with like extremely intricate designs that I design, you know, and so she'll you know, she'll do that with me, but she's also she'll also just she just started doing things on her own. She like made me like several sets of like crocheted lucha libre outfits, you know, like all like crocheted like a like a tablecloth, you know? Like uh, I mean amazing. Like, like she just she really like like I think that had my mother like had the encouragement or ever even like thought to look and imagine something other than what you know, because she basically did the same kind of embroidery and stuff that my my my grandmother did. But the minute like that, you know, I gave her the opportunity or like suggested to her the possibility that like you could make something like weirder and more more like fabulous, like she did. So like I think that my mother is an artist, even if she doesn't have that official uh designation, like I do. I had I got you know, I was lucky. I I got I went to art school, you know, I grew up in the US. Like my mother was the one who suffered, like who did all of that suffering. Like I I was a beneficiary of all of her work to help us have a better life.

Nicte-Ha:

That's wonderful. It sounds like you come from really a strong female line, and uh and it sounds like they were a huge influence on you and the way that you developed in your drive. So can you talk a little bit about your primary your primary art artistic form? I mean, I'm familiar with your painting, but I see that you have a wide variety of things that you sell, including, you know, the books. And I bought one of your calendars a few years ago. It was beautiful. And so if you can talk a little bit about your favorite mediums to work in and all the mediums that you work in and what you're what you're what you're primarily interested in at on this at this moment.

Chicome:

Well, I consider myself primarily an artist. If you had mentioned my books, I would have forgotten to say that I'm also a writer. Like I really do like to write, like I write books and things, but like I've in my soul, I'm such a like I'm an artist, so that's how how I think about it.

Nicte-Ha:

So you're like primarily a visual artist is how you identify. And then is there like a medium like painting, printing? Because I know you've done all of those things.

Chicome:

I paint, well, I make like paintings in oil, uh acrylic, I do a lot of stuff with marker and ink on paper. The marker isn't like the marker um is like fast and easy, so it's a way for me to I'm very productive. Like I have a really crazy work ethic and I have a hard time relaxing. And um, so I just like work, work, work, work. And because I feel like even though I'm working all the time, I don't make enough, like marker and ink is like the fastest way I've come up with making a painting. So it allows me to work even more. But like uh I do a lot with that. But yeah, so like it my technique is very traditional. It's I went to art school and studied like you know, like six hours a day of painting nude figures and landscapes and apples and sorry, there's a lot of like um stuff outside, but you know, painting like very traditional technique. And I went to a very traditional school for three years, and then I went to like an avant-garde, the San Francisco Art Institute in San Francisco, which is which is a lot more like performance art and installation and stuff like that, uh, and which I'm so grateful. I feel like I got a really well-rounded education because like I I feel like if like I have a gift for painting, like my paintings are really um like old mastery, like very realistic, and I don't, you know, like uh um that's not a word I would use to compliment my own work, but that's what other people say about it. But like uh, but uh and I that was developed by going to art school. But that art school won't teach you it teaches you how to paint, it doesn't teach you why to paint, you know, like what's the point of painting like naked ladies in fruit? You know, like there's no, you know, it's like unless you have something to say, it's like there's no point. And and the other school was all about theory, you know, and so like that's where you know I I I uh I learned about like why to paint and like you know how to push my artwork. It's funny because that school was very um, it was very much about like the kind of contemporary art you would see in a museum or in like an upscale gallery or something. It was very like um theoretical. And I love that kind of artwork, I really do. And it's like uh now that's what I was doing for quite a few years after I graduated from school, but um because I started doing ceremony, uh I started doing ceremony when I was up, 28, 29, uh, and um it opened up a whole new way of being an artist to me, which is you know, where it's like the the traditional western way of thinking about art making is um it's through the lens of like these fantasies that we have that come from like the 19th century, you know, like Van Gogh, you know, like the crazy artist and the girl, the the you know, the the wild genius, you know, and like and every artist is like is supposed to be like some kind of like uh uh genius remaking the world of art and reimagining everything from the ground up, you know, and and that works if you're a genius, you know, like but for the vast majority of artists, that's not really a working option, you know, and whereas indigenous uh and traditional cultures around the world tend to think of art making more as like um as a means of it's like a language that that already exists and that you perfect in order to tell a story. And uh and when that sort of kind of started to dawn on me about the age of 30, 31, it's like my the way I make art started to shift, uh, where like I'm not really concerned about personal expression, like or like what I myself have to say, you know, like like I feel like if I have anything interesting to say, it's it begins and ends with being a detribalized person who wants to reconnect. And basically, like, and I feel like do I do have some interesting things to say around that. Everything else is our our traditional stories, our heritage that I am I'm I'm telling it in a way that makes sense to us today. So it's like I started learning how to read ancient writing and glyphs. I am I'm a complete and utter nerd, an endless like patience to read academic literature, and you know, and early on I realized that you know, my I've been selling my work and living off the sale of my work since I was since I was about 28. And so like that that's a huge privilege right there. So like I haven't had a job like other than that, you know, like me being an artist since I was in I'm 50 and since I was up in my 20s, and uh, and that allows me to travel. So it's like pretty early on, like I had a show when I was about 30 and I sold a lot. I made like like 40 some thousand dollars on that show, and I was like, um, unlike a normal person who would be like, I'm gonna put it in my savings account and think about buying a house, I was like, what fabulous work of art can I make that'll cost me $40,000 for my next show? That's what I decided to do.

Nicte-Ha:

Just move from show to show, just using the proceeds to fund the next one. You're like, it's fine, I can eat ramen for eight months as long as I can spend money on my art.

Chicome:

It's not the wise way to live, but like, I mean, now I have a savings account. As I'm getting older, I'm like, ah, maybe I should. But like, I didn't. You know, so at that point, I was like, what am I the money was burning a hole in my pocket? I'm like, I gotta spend it on something fabulous. And for me, fabulous meant I moved to Huchitan, which is a Zapotec town in southern Mexico, which has a queer, is one of the only indigenous communities that's that still has a two-spirit tradition. I'm gay. So like uh so I went there partly because I wanted to encounter like two-spirit people living in this community where that's part of the traditional way of living. And uh I was there for like a year and I hired indigenous women and two-spirit people to embroider my designs. And I spent like $40,000 on that year living and making like fabulous, like hand-embroidered Lucia Libra outfits. Uh, and it turned out to be a good investment. I sold them all on my next show. Um, but like uh but but the point of that story is that like um between my utter nerdiness reading academic literature and my privilege as an artist who has been able to live in indigenous communities, and uh, you know, because we have a lot of fantasies about what it means. You know, if you're I mean, I think we all do, and if you're a detribalized person in particular, it's like there's a lot of fantasies about what our heritage means. And um, you know, and I certainly had those fantasies. And when I went to live in these communities or invite Indigenous people to live with me in Mexico City, which is where I've been for a very long time, it kind of stripped me of these fantasies, but also educated me in a really profound way in terms of a lot of things that like I practice a kind of indigenous spirituality, like a conchero dance, which is undeniably of native roots. It's like, I think some people think that it's like a new age kind of invention or something, but it's like it's not. It's like there's paintings of conchero dancers from like the 18th century, you know, like like we are it's a very old tradition, but it's a very syncretic tradition. It's like completely, totally mixed with Catholicism. So it's like we have we have this way of doing ceremony, which is completely Native American, but the reason we're doing the ceremony tends to be wrapped up with Catholic ideals. So it's like we go and dance with the Virgin of Guadalupe and the Señor de Chalma and things like that. And uh and nowadays, concerto dance has been getting getting mixed up with new age ideas. Like that's the new cultural appropriation and effect. But living with indigenous communities, it's like where the world view is completely and utterly different. It's like has allowed me to um root. I feel like what I'm learning as a concetto dancer, which is like I feel like my learning as a concerto dancer has to do with like more with structure and like how do you carry out a ceremony and what does the ceremony look like and move praying to the four directions and that kind of thing. Whereas like the why are we doing it, I don't I haven't learned that so much through concerto dance itself. That's something that I've learned more by actual indigenous people who have taught me in different communities, as well as like reading like anthropological literature, like you know, and things like that. So, anyway, I that was a very long answer that I'm not sure I answered.

Nicte-Ha:

No, it's okay. It's wonderful. I think it all connects really well, and it actually touches on a lot of the things that I was curious about. But I think just knowing how you moved, you know, moving into and out of primarily indigenous communities. I was wondering, is there that was actually one of my questions, is there a big difference between the kind of urban practice of this syncretic conchero tradition, or even sort of more explicitly a, I guess it would call mexica revivalism, kind of like overtly worshiping, you know, the the gods of of the mexica or other because um I think they were probably similar, but I'm guessing that different tribes in Mexico had different um gods, right, that they followed and they honored. And so is there a big difference between the urban practice of what you're doing with Conchero dance and what you might be seeing in like Mexica revivalism? I don't know how much of that there is in Mexico City, versus the sentiment in more like rural, indigenous majority communities that you visited.

Chicome:

Yeah, no, there's a big difference. Like so, like the so I that's what I do. It's like like I I've been saying I'm a concerto dancer, I'm a concher, because it's like it's hard to say exactly what I do. Like, like like concerto dance is this ancient tradition that is syncretic and people dance for the Virgin of Guadalupe and all that. And then there's this other kind of dance, there's like Aztec dance, which is a terrible name for it, and that's kind of what you're referring to. And uh that's basically people who have taken concerto dance and stripped away the Catholic stuff and substituted it. Substitute is the wrong word, it's like restored it to what it was originally, which would have been like instead of praying for dancing for the Virgin of Guadalupe, you're dancing for Tonan Sing, the goddess of the earth, or instead of the Señor de Chalma, it's like the Scalipoca, and um, and that's what I do. And so, like uh uh so so I I so I think I'll describe the indigenous way first. So it's like not that that's not indigenous, it is like we are of indigenous descent, but it's it's it is quite different, and it's much, much more syncretic, it's much more influenced by the West. So, like when I live with the Wichol in particular, the Wirarica, it's like uh but this is true of all Mesoamerican indigenous communities that have stayed on their land and maintained language and culture and roots in a really profound way, you know. So it's like, and what I was gonna say is true is like it's a particular relationship to spirituality which has to do with reciprocity. And that's something that is never talked about in Mexica Cochero type culture, like traditions. So if you and and and involve some kind of intense things, in particular, like animal sacrifice. So like that's very common everywhere. Um uh so like and the idea is that like the the teteo, the gods, the they give us everything that we need to live, everything. So like we don't possess anything at all. Like we are we are like these like these beings living on the earth who are like consuming and consuming in order to live. And all of these beings are dying and suffering for our sake. That and if being a vegetarian does not let you off the hook. Indigenous spirituality is animistic in the sense that everything that exists is alive and has a soul and has agency and will. So that means animals, obviously, but also plants and also like the earth herself and things like that. So it's like uh corn is simultaneous, it's a it's a vegetable and it's simultaneously a god, a teo. And uh and the corn chooses to be reborn every single year, to grow, and to suffer and die for our sake. Like every single year of corn that we dry, that we grind on the mitata to make the tortilla, that we cook to make the tortilla, that we gnash between our teeth, it's suffering through that entire process in order to allow us to have the flesh that we possess, to have the life that we live. And that's like the fundamental indigenous idea: the sun, the earth, the corn, everything, the water, everything is dying to give us life. And they're infinitely generous and willing to do that through all eternity, but they don't have infinite energy, they need to be fed. So it's like right now in Mexico is the rainy season. It's raining and raining and raining, the corn is growing, and the earth is giving and giving and giving, but right around like November, right at the end of November, it's gonna stop raining, and essentially that energy is done. Like she's given all she can give, and it's and she dies. The corn dies, the plants die, the fields turn golden, and then there's like you know, five, six months of of death, of dryness. And that's when people come in. Like, we were created on purpose so that we could live in a dynamic relationship with the natural world. So, like, the world requires energy to live, and the primary source that that energy can be expressed in ceremony, dance, smok a kopal, giving offerings to the earth. That's one important way to give to pay back our debt. In fact, the word for ceremony in Nawat is neshlawalisli, which means debt payment. But another way for paying back our debt is blood. Blood, everything that exists is linked. There's no difference between spiritual and physical. Like the Christian world thinks of like these two things that are on opposite ends of the spectrum, for us, they're one thing. And blood and teolia, which is this spiritual force, are the same thing. Teolia is the water that flows through the earth is the teolia of the earth. Sap is the teolia of the trees, and blood is the teolia of human beings. And when we in ceremony, when you I want to point out also that I've never personally sacrificed an animal, but I have been in many animal sacrifices. And when an indigenous shaman, marakame, you know, like you know, a person in their household sacrifices the animal, they're offering that blood to the earth to nourish the earth and allow the earth to give us the corn. And it turns into the cycle that never ends.

Nicte-Ha:

And is that something that's done? It sounds like something that's done maybe more and more traditional communities. And is that something that people do sort of quietly in a hidden way, or is that something that's like the local priest is aware this happens and he just doesn't talk about it, or the priest is involved and sort of attends? Like how syncretic is that kind of practice?

Chicome:

But but it's not hidden. No. It is like if you like if you know, if you're like a if you go to like uh San Cristobo de las Casas, for example, uh in in the capital of Chiapas, and go to uh San Juan Chamula, uh, which is the uh uh uh Maya Aquiche, I think, town that's right next to um San Cristobo de Toba de las Casas. All of it, it's a very tourist tons of tourists go there. It's a very picturesque place. And you will see chickens being uh sacrificed in the church. There's no priest in this church. This is a the church is a temple.

Nicte-Ha:

Oh, okay. I had no idea. That's so interesting.

Chicome:

You can see it tomorrow, today. Like if you go, if you you know, hop on a flight and go down there, you'll see it happening as we speak. It happens every single day. When uh the tribe that I'm most familiar with personally is the we are the Wida. And uh, you know, because I'm drawn to it since I am myself, you know, Wida descended a lot. But at any rate, like um Wida ceremony, and it's like animal sacrifices like cannot be done without it. And like of most tribes that you know, mostly they sacrifice chickens. The Widach sacrifice bulls, you know, bulls, um cow, uh bulls, goats, uh, sheep, and and chickens, less a lot less chickens, mostly like the four-legged animals. And um, it could be on the level of the family, where like you know, um, at one point my friends, my Wida friends had a um uh they had really bad in interfamily dynamic. There were bad things happening. And they um they spoke to a marakame, which is kind of like a shaman, and uh there was trouble in the spirit world, and it required a bull sacrifice. And so, like, I joined them for that ceremony, and like, but also like several times a year, the whole entire community gets together and they'll sacrifice a thousand animals. It's like, I mean, there's you know, like uh most of this this meat gets eaten, by the way. Not all of it.

Nicte-Ha:

Sometimes the meat is that makes that makes a lot of sense. Why, why waste all of the protein?

Chicome:

Yeah, yeah. Um, but like um, and and I also want to point out at this point that it's like this is a like a taboo subject, and like Western people can get really like freaked out about it. But like, you know, unless you're a vegetarian, like I don't think that Western people have a right to like be like weird about this. It's like if you're willing to eat like meat from the supermarket or like uh a McDonald's burger, then you're just participating in a kind of a form of suffering and environmental degradation that is way worse than anything that is happening to these animals, or in particular because of the way these animals lived, which is usually like raised on the farm, you know, in the community, you know, like they had pretty good lives. The last bit of it might not have been so good, but if you're a meat eater, no animal has a good end to their life. So, like, uh anyway, I just want to point that out. But like uh, so like this element of ceremony and indigenous spirituality is very important, you know. It's like uh like like like at one point I was at a festival in um Oregon. Uh it was like a hippie fest, I don't know, it was like a big festival. They invited me to sell my art there, and they invited a Widarica person as well, whom I met there. And this Widarica guy was selling tons of work, he was making a lot of money. And the the longer it lasted, the more he stressed out he got. Because he was like, I I am I'm reaching a place of imbalance with the gods, with it, with the natural world. It's like I'm getting too much and I can't give back because I'm in this weird place, like very, very, very, very farther north than I've ever been. And I don't know where there are any sacred places that I'm can go and like make an offering and pay back. And like, and he was getting really stressed out. And at a certain point, there was like a big fire where there was like drum circles and things like that going on. And he was like, Well, I don't know, all of these like white people are like, you know, this is like the focus of their energy, so I'm gonna like make an offering there. And he um he burnt some feathers and like he I he made he made us like he made an offering and promised the the the grandfather fire, you know, that he would like do a real offering, a blood offering in in Mexico when he got back, as as in gratitude for everything, in this case money, that the Tateo had given him, you know. So, like, so they I mean I just wanted to point that out as like a you know, like to the extent to which like this is deeply ingrained in indigenous thought and spirituality, is like this idea of balance. And that is not present in Conchero dance. And that's like the place where it's like I feel like when I come to Widarica, Wira ceremony, I'm coming to it with a degree of like homecoming where I feel like this is the language, these are the ceremonies and the dances that my great-grandmother danced, that my grandmother was ripped away from, you know, so like there's an element of longing and an element of like of nostalgia for something I never experienced that's there, that's very fulfilling to me personally. But there's also an element of like that I don't belong and I never will. Like, you know, I don't, you know, like I mean, it would take a lot, a lot, like a whole I would have to move there, you know, like like live there for years and years, and you know, it's something that I'm I haven't done and I'm not willing to do, you know. It's like, but where I am welcome and I I do belong is with concerto dancers, with Aztec dancers. It's like that's a place where people who have been detribalized like me can get together and seek this connection with our ancestors, and we're all doing it from a place where where we're coming from the same place. And I feel like that we are learning, in fact, something that is ancient and traditional to our people. It's like the way we move, the way we dance, the way we pray is an ancient form of being. It's an indigenous form of being. But we are not taught the real root and meaning behind what we're doing because that was taken away by Catholicism. It's like the spirit behind it all became Catholic at some point. So for me, it's like when I go to ceremony, I and I'm now a leader of ceremony. So when I lead ceremony, I always remind everyone or educate them for the first time. Maybe they never heard it before, why we are there. You know, like who, what they what God we're giving honor to, what our sacrifice, our dance, our means, you know, and we and we do offer blood sacrifice, but we offer our own blood. Like we pierce our earlobes and fingertips and things like that with magathorns. And, you know, it's Not much, it's not that I mean it's a little painful, not that much, but you know, it is drops of blood, but we do offer blood, and I and I and I wonder about that. I wonder, like, you know, I've been I've been how do you say that in English? Castigated? Oh, okay.

Nicte-Ha:

Yeah.

Chicome:

I've been I've been like uh castigated.

Nicte-Ha:

I speak Spanish, but it's like it's like eighth grade level Spanish. Oh, okay. So, you know, you could enter in Spanish, you're you'll not, you know. I mean, I do a little bit more practice. I probably need to read some more books, but yeah. But yeah, my mom keeps telling me I need to go. She's like, you should just go back for like three months.

Chicome:

Oh, yeah. No, I mean, yeah, like that. It'll it'll like it'll all come back. It's like you it's all there. It's just like you know, it's underneath somewhere.

Nicte-Ha:

Well, anyway, you know, that's how it feels. I was born there and I was there for the first two years of my life, and every time I speak Spanish, it feels like doors opening in my head and it comes easier.

Chicome:

Okay, yeah, it's there, it's like part of our heritage. It's like it's what you've heard since childhood. It's like, you know, yeah. So um uh so anyway. Yeah, I've been I've been like castigated uh by by indigenous shamans for not like sacrificing animals. And they're like, well, what's the point of the ceremony if you're not like actually paying back the debt? You know, if you're not actually spilling that blood, you know, and that's that and that's that place where everything starts to come together and become really weird for me, where it's like, what does it mean? You know, what does it mean to like, you know, it's like we like as chicanos, as like, you know, it's very common and fashionable even to talk about decolonization. I'm decolonizing myself. And honestly, I see that so much on social media where I'm like, you are not decolonizing yourself. It's like you're you know, it's like they say that to anything, it's like flout some new age nonsense, and there's like, oh, I'm decolonizing myself. It's like, it is like a hard path. Like, I've been trying to do this for like my entire life. I've lived in an indigenous community, then I can tell you that it's not possible. It's like, it's like what the way we think and the way an indigenous person from an indigenous community who never left, who speaks the language and everything thinks, are different. It's like not the same. And like, and there are there are places where like animal sacrifice. It's like it's like sometimes I feel like I want to. Do I maybe I don't want to? Sometimes I'm like, I shouldn't, I should be completely vegetarian and never kill anything ever. Like, you know, it's like like my my I have a hard time wrapping my mind around the indigenous teaching is straight up actual blood must be spilled. But it also represents it's a metaphor for something else, which is that we have to live in balance with the earth. And the only way to live, you know, like the way to live in balance is ceremony and all that. But for like for me, it's also like Western culture is a culture about imbalance. It's a culture about like humans are at the top and the earth is a thing, animals are barely more than things, and we can take and take and take and exploit and exploit and exploit, and we're the masters of the universe, and everything's gonna be fine. And that is clearly not true. We're living in the era of global warming. It's like the indigenous wisdom is undeniably, objectively true. It's like we are the younger brothers of creation, we are in a web of interconnectedness with the natural world. It's like, and whether you you choose like me to believe that the earth is a woman who's a living being who loves me and cares for me, and like, or if you choose to think that the earth is like a an organ, you know, who is beating and like breathes at forests, and we are part of that, you know, like web of being, which I think is maybe like an atheistic way that you could imagine the exact same thing, it's true. And indigenous and western culture is destroying the entire planet. And so for me, it's like coming to terms with what all of this means? Like, what does blood sacrifice mean? What does it mean to me? What does it mean to me in my community? What does it mean to me as a teacher within like a conchero dance tradition? Like, what do I want to teach the people who are in my Calpuli, in my in my community, you know? And like, and how do I want to, and how do we want to incorporate this into who we are? Because I feel like if there are millions and millions of us, it's like there are millions of Chicanos, millions of Mexicans, it's like if we were all to embrace these elements, this this most important element of our indigenous heritage, that can only be good for the planet, you know. But on the other side of things, it's like, you know, so like I'm going on about like the evils of Western culture, and there's a lot, you know, like capitalism and our relationship of imbalance to natural. Those are the two, like for me, unquestionable questionably. Like, I don't think that the word evil is like too extreme to describe what those are, you know, for me. But on the other hand, gave, you know, we are the source of like women's rights, gay rights, like, you know, like there's the you know, the enlightenment, like, you know, there is a lot of of there are a lot of things that are really positive that came out of the West, you know, and so it's like, you know, like a lot of indigenous communities are pretty patriarchal. You know, there's a lot of like uh there's a lot of ideas that are pretty homophobic. And there's an argument to be made that maybe a lot of that patriarchality, I don't know, and and homophobia is um an uh European construct, something that came from the West. But what I do not want to do is imagine that our ancestors were somehow perfect. It's like there was slavery, and that is unquestionable. There were, I mean, there was a lot, you know, a lot of like the Mexica were undeniably patriarchal, you know, at the time of the conquest. Like maybe there was another indigenous ancestor that was like matriarchal and like, you know, really great or whatever, but like that was not the case when the Europeans came, you know. So it's like there are elements that are like undeniably awful that our ancestors did. And I think that it's fine to acknowledge that. It's like because a lot of people, a lot of like the decolonized decolonizing like memes online are you know, it's like they want to dehumanize our ancestors, you know, in the opposite way that Europeans did. It's like, oh no, our ancestors were perfect. They like lived in balance with the universe and like you know, danced with moonbeams or whatever. I don't know.

Nicte-Ha:

It's like this is it's very similar to kind of what people do to Native American communities here in North America, right? People don't realize it's the same sort of romanticization of indigenous history. And just because the culture was aware of and required balance doesn't mean that everything that they did is something that we would find morally morally correct, right? Because our morality is deeply influenced by Greek and Roman and like Christian theologies around some other aspects that have been very transformative and people have taken them and and used them to support women's rights and gay rights and things like that, and human rights, right? So a lot of human rights have come out of the the movements have come out of very liberal Christian traditions, right? So it is difficult to find that balance. And I understand what you're what you're saying there. I think I think it's it's important that if we're in the business of decolonizing our thought or finding ourselves spiritually, that we're not in the process of creating a fantasy of the past.

Chicome:

Yeah.

Nicte-Ha:

Right. And and also recognizing we can't go back, we can't go backwards completely. Much of it is lost, and we have to look forward and figure out how to bring the elements of the tradition we like forward into the future for our communities. At least that's how I interpret what you're saying. Is that accurate?

Chicome:

Yeah, no, no, that's that's what exactly how I feel. It's like I think that like um there's a tendency to romanticize our our history, and like uh, and that's you know, it's like and I think and I feel like the danger in that is that is that you end up live putting our ancestors up to a uh on a pedestal so high that we'll never reach it. It's like you know, the ideals of our ancestors are beautiful, not always, but m a lot of them, most of them, you know. But like the lived reality is never up to one's ideals, you know, and so it's like uh I think that it's important to acknowledge that. And I also think that like uh I was gonna say something and I I got lost, but but it but at any rate, like uh it's okay.

Nicte-Ha:

If it comes back, you can always say, Oh, I remember that thing. But I I was actually wondering, so you are I'm 45, so we're kind of close in age here. And when I was growing up in I grew up in California, I grew up in Gilroy up by San Jose. And I remember Aztec dance, Aztec dance in quotation marks starting in the mid early 90s, kind of as part of like a an alternative but to bale folklóri, kind of like a cultural revival. Let's look at the way that people did in the past, and it wasn't really like as far as I understood it at that point, it wasn't really presented as a spiritual path for people to actually be engaging in ceremony. It was a little bit more like you have bale folklórico, which is the more traditional dance, then you have the Aztec dance, which is like what happened, what we did before the Spanish.

Chicome:

Yeah.

Nicte-Ha:

And then I feel like over the years I watched it evolve into a spiritual movement. And so, how did you first get involved with the Conchero dancing? And also, yes, so I'm gonna just how did you first get involved with the Conchero dancing? How old were you? And what was it about it that really struck you? Like, where did you see it? Was it in California or was it after you'd moved back to Mexico?

Chicome:

It was in California. So when I was in my teens, like that was like the whitest time in my life. Like uh I went to college, everybody was white. Like I, you know, I graduated, I got a white boyfriend, like all of his friends, he was an architect, all of his friends were white, and somehow like they're like, let's test this out.

Nicte-Ha:

What's this like?

Chicome:

I didn't like do it on purpose, it just kind of like happened, and like one day I woke up and I'm like, I have no Latino friends, like I only speak in Spanish to my mother, like you know, and so like and I was like, and I was just feeling like I need to like re-Latinize my life, like what's going on here? And uh there was a group of um of Aztec dancers like at the Michigan Cultural Center, like four blocks from my house, and I I thought it was uh ballet for politico. I really did. Like, I I mean you know, it in terms of what you just said. Um, so I was like, oh, this is great. It's like I'm gonna wear an awesome outfit, like big feathers, good exercise because that looks hard, and uh, and I'm gonna make Latino friends. So I was like, this is everything I want. So like so I went to just start dancing with them. It was a little unpleasant, I have to say. Well, it's because I am very, very white presenting. I have blue eyes, you know, like I look like my dad 100%. And you know, so they didn't really get me. There was a little bit, you know, like they were they're they're they were a little mean to me, I think, because they I think they thought I was like a white guy that just showed up to dance with them, and I'm like, no, soy mexicano, quiero bailar con ustedes. Like they didn't they really didn't like you know see me. But like uh, but in terms but I persevered, I didn't care, I kept on going anyway. And and it took me a while to realize that they were definitely not by let fugico. Like they were already like um, I mean, they were ceremony. Like we would do like we would go do ceremony, which I thought was gonna be a show, that we would be in the middle of the forest. I'm like, huh, this is you know, like I did not understand, you know, and they didn't explain. We just like did. Like there was no talking. It was just like, not even among, you know, like they talked like friends, but there was no teaching. It was just like the teaching was like this is how you dance, you know, like this is how you know. So like uh I didn't, I did it took me a while to understand, but like that's like where kind of this path began. But as but it's to that differ that to Conchero being like dance being uh like a folklore dance as opposed to being like um ceremony. It's like uh I don't know like in the US how that goes because like I moved to I moved to Mexico and uh and I started doing it here, and here it was it's like this is like where conchero dance is from like Caretaro and from areas that are in this area, it's been in Mexico City for a long time, and um and it's definitely ceremony. It's like we here, and it's a lot easier to maintain that because it's like in in the US, if you're Chicano or a Mexican immigrant, you're already divorced, even if you're in a Mexican community, it's like you're not near your cemetery, you're not near the church that was your church where the saint was that your family prayed to for generations, you're not tied to your particular culture. It's like, you know, Mexicans, we're not obviously not monolithic. It's like you know, we end up in neighborhoods and it's like you know, from all over the place with all kinds of different Mexican or Mesoamerican traditions, and uh and everything gets mixed up. Whereas in Mexico, you're right there, you know. It's like so it's like uh so with here when we go to a ceremony, it's like we're going to the shrine of the Virgin of Guadalupe herself. You know, there's like peregrinaciones like uh I forget how to say that too. It's like um walk when you're walking ceremoniously to um uh like the Señora de Chalma at his shrine, you know. So like you know, we do all of these certain things here and in part of Mexican cult culture is that um is like the the fiesta patronal, which is like where you know, like once a year the the saint of the main church of your neighborhood or your town is when he's like he gets celebrated. And so there's like a big party, there's like a street fair, there's castillo, like huge fireworks, and uh and the Aztec dancers come out, you know, and so like the the the the the saint is carried on the procession, on the ceremonial procession, and the the dancantes go in front dancing, and so like here it's bale foclorico and it's ceremony at the same time. It's like it's they're clearly linked. And I think in the US, it's like the the dancers went there, I'm theorizing. The the dancers went there, but then they're like divorced from the fiesta patronal because that's not happening in the US. They're divorced from like all of those like specific things, those specific pilgrimage sites, those specific ways of engaging with spirituality. And this is from like a mestizo standpoint, like that not like that's not there anymore. So then it turns into like what you dance at the Cinco de Mayo parade or before, you know, like you dance in like contexts that are divorced of spirituality, but in Mexico, it's like it's intimately linked to giving honor to if you're if you're a very traditional conchero to the Catholic saints, and if you're more like an astric dancer to to the indigenous gods, and you might be doing the exact same dance in the exact same place, but you're you're doing it with a oh, and I wanted to point this out from earlier too. Um, because you had mentioned something about the pre-Hispanic gods or whatever, like that. Like they're not just pre-Hispanic gods. So, like that's one of the things that I didn't realize. Like, I thought was something I thought when I started moving in indigenous communities and living with indigenous people was that you know, like the Scalipoca and the Donancine and all of these gods were like pre-Hispanic, and it's like we're putting them back, and it's like, you know, kind of like a Greek person deciding to worship like Hera or Zeus or something again, something like that. It's not like that at all.

Nicte-Ha:

They have that Hellenic revivalism.

Chicome:

I know, and like Yeah, it's amazing. It is amazing, and but it but I feel like it's completely different from that, in the sense that like Conchero tradition is a truly, truly syncretic tradition. It's like half indigenous, half Catholic, and I'll say there's a third of New Age stuff thrown on top. You know, it is deeply, deeply syncretic. But indigenous people who speak language speak their name their indigenous languages, who live in their communities and all of that, they look syncretic, but they're not, in my mind, syncretic. So it's like you could, you might go like so, for example, you might go to Puebla, to a Nahua community and walk into a person's house and see the Virgin of Guadalupe and Jesus and like St. Thomas on their altar, and you're gonna say, like, oh, they're like syncretic, like, you know, they're in they're where their data clothing is becoming, you know, but they're syncretic. But if you ask them to tell you a story about that Mary, that Jesus, and that St. Thomas, the story they're gonna tell you has nothing to do with Catholicism. It's like, you know, there's stories from all over Mesoamerica that are told today by indigenous people, you know, where it's like, oh, you know, like when the when the the soldiers speared Jesus on the side, corn fell out of the wound, you know, or the Virgin of Guadalupe lives in a cave on the mountain and she gave birth to the son, you know. And so, like, when the Spanish came, it's like you couldn't have like indigenous images and image making, dead, dead, dead, dead. You can't have an image of Gualique, the lady with a the skirt of serpents on your altar, you know, like the priest is gonna come in and like break that and throw you in jail or murder you. Who knows what terrible things are gonna happen? You can't do that. But you can put the Virgin of Guadalupe in your altar and keep on telling the exact same story, like and he and continue to do ceremony in a very similar way. But like the image has been switched out because that's what you can do, you know. So, like the indigenous people today continue to tell stories about the god of corn, about the goddess of the earth, about the rains being the mountains being hollowed. Thlaluk is still believed in. No, he doesn't call Thlaluc anymore, but like indigenous peoples will still talk about the Lord of Thunder who lives inside the mountain and who's still Tlaluk, by the way, is a god of rain for those of you who don't know. So they will talk about like the mountain being hollow. So it's like these these traditions never went away. They're like all over Mesoamerica. And uh, and on top of that, like one of the reasons that like like like uh Cochero dance and Aztic dance as a Socratic tradition, I'm sorry, as an intertribal tradition works, is because as you said earlier, like there are tribes throughout Mesoamerica, and Mesoamerica ranges from like Nicaragua, Costa Rica, even all the way up to northern Mexico. And some people include like the US Southwest in in Mesoamerica. It's like, and what Mesoamerica is, is all of these tribes, like hundreds of tribes, speaking 160 languages or something. But all of them, all of them believe that in the in the in the sacredness of the balance between humanity and the natural world, all of them believe that the mountains are hollow and that the lords of rain live inside. Sometimes the lord of rain is a woman, sometimes she's a it's a man, but the structure is the same. Like there's stories that are told everywhere about sun gods dying in a fire and re being reborn as the sun. You know, like Maya told that story, we showed people tell that story in Guatemala and in you know, northwest Mexico, you know. So it's like the underlying spiritual truth of Native America, of an indigenous Mexico, is the same everywhere. And that's why I feel like even though I am of Ouida descent and have no Nahua ancestry whatsoever that I know of, like uh this Nahua-based tradition, which is concerto tradition, has become like this intertribal tradition. And it works for all of us because it's like I may not be praying to my the gods, the specific gods that my grandmother prayed to, but like my great-grandmother prayed to, but like uh the essence is the same. It's like, you know, she prayed to the god of fire, grandfather of fire, you know, and like as as a concerto dancer, it's like, well, we have what with the Lord of Fire, you know, it's like it's the same. So, like, uh, but I just wanted to point that out.

Nicte-Ha:

Thank you. This is I am loving this, by the way. This is fantastic.

Chicome:

Thank you.

Nicte-Ha:

You know, you've mentioned a couple of times you being a white presenting Chicano, and I very much that part of the reason why I started this podcast was because of that experience of feeling in between, right? Feeling that in-betweenness. And in a lot of ways, you sort of embodying that in-betweenness in a couple of different aspects of your professional and your spiritual life, in that you're a gay man, you're a Chicano who's white presenting, who's trying to balance all of these different sides of his lineage and his spiritual traditions. And so I'm wondering how that the your what I call the social identity, right? The way people perceive you, you know, growing up, was it difficult to feel a part of the Chicano community in Los Angeles? And, you know, that feeling that that feeling of being an outsider in Mexico City, is it diverse enough that you you feel more of a sense of belonging in Mexico City? Is that why you live there? How do you navigate that feeling of being kind of on the border in between communities?

Chicome:

That's hard. Uh as a little kid, like I was raised by my mother and not my father. I am closer to my Mexican mother. My mom, my mother's not white presenting, she's a woman of color. And um, you know, so like I mean, I remember as a kid, people everybody thought my mom was my nanny. They would think she was the cleaning lady, like, you know, like there was a lot of like racist assumptions because I look nothing like my. I mean, I did I think I do kind of, but not really. I don't look anything like her. I look white, white, white, white. And you know, so that was weird. But I didn't think of myself as I didn't think of my appearance as being weird until I was in high school. Like as a little kid, you know, like I was surrounded by like everybody was I was the whitest person by far. Everybody else was like were people of color, and they were like my grandma or whatever. Like I didn't like my friends, I didn't think about it. But in high school, like the first, the very first time I ever really like dawned on me that there was something weird about about me, was like, I was gonna, I like there was a Mitcha was gonna was gonna have they were like there was like a Mitch uh meeting at the local community college, and they were gonna give out they were giving out um like scholarships. And I was like, I want a scholarship, like my family doesn't have the money, like I need a scholarship to go to college. So I went and there was like this talk in the in the auditorium, and it was all like high school students and like you know, like guys in their 20s or 30s or something. I don't know, like Mecha guys. And they were like, Oh, we're like the the some of the raza de bronze, we're like the you know, we're the bronze race, and we're like, you know, brown pride and all of this. And like, and everybody around me started looking at me, and like, you know, and and I just I remember just starting to, I was suddenly like, that was the first time I ever thought of my appearance as being weird. And I started going like, oh my god, I started like kind of like like like uh kind of sliding down in my chair. I like I like I felt like I don't belong here, I don't belong here, and like it, you know, and I absolutely did belong there, you know. It was like, you know, but the language was it's alienating to somebody who looks like me. And I don't want to say that there's anything wrong with that language, you know, but like, but in particular, like at that point in my life, that was the first time I'd ever heard that particular language being used, and and it definitely made me feel very weird, you know, like and it took me a long time to even come up with a way to how to describe myself where I'm like, because for a long time I thought of myself as white, but then I'd be like, well, I'm I am white, but I'm not, I don't know. Like, you know, it took it wasn't until like maybe like 10 years ago that I was like, oh, I think I'm white presenting rather than actually being white. Because it's like you know, whiteness is like you know, wrapped up with like culture and like the way you're raised. Like I grew up, I learned English when I was five. Like I, you know, did not grow up in a white culture. And furthermore, like I, you know, like my mom is my my my Mexican family are not white. They're like they're people of color, they're Native American. So it's like, you know, like the my upbringing is like definitely not white, but I look white. So like I have white privilege, that's undeniable. It's like I feel like there's all kinds of things that have happened to me in my life that are probably that are you know, things that I probably don't even know that it happened, that are, you know, things that happen to white people that are good, you know, like so like so you know, so I feel like I navigate the world in a really weird way. And I feel like that has like led to me now to being, I don't know, it's like when I am in person with Latino people, I forget about my appearance. You know, like I I'm just living my life, and my entire life is lived with Latino people. It's like, you know, like as a as a dancer, I live in Mexico, I'm married to a Salvadoran man who's a not white, he's a person of color, you know, my mother, my family, everything, you know, I spend very little time with white people, very little. And um and for the most part, they're you know, like the people around me accept me, you know, it's like everything is fine. Every now and then I'm reminded where because people will be like, what are you doing? Or like, I you know, I thought you were like a like a white dude, you know, like you know, I'll be like, oh no, like I thought you were a journalist. Yeah, things like that, you know, like you know, like they'll you know, they'll or you know, or I'll give like funny comments, you know, like like uh, you know, a lot of people will be like I would assume they know my story. I don't know why, you know, and then they'll and they'll be like, oh, it's so interesting when for when foreigners like are so in in love with our culture that they like you know even become like teachers, and I'll be like, oh, I you don't, you know, like maybe I should tell you my background, you know, like uh you know, I get that a lot. In person, I very rarely have problems. You know, online. Oh my god, it's such a fucking nightmare. Like I get attacked so much. It's like every time my face is is visible, like, you know, like I'm I don't hide who I am. I don't like, you know, but like when it, you know, like when I when I shoot a real, I'm kind of like an influencer. I have a lot of followers, like, you know, like I I'm very committed to teaching and my work is kind of popular. So like, you know, I have a you know, I get seen a lot and and I in no way hide my appearance, you know. It's but like um I'm also not like particularly interested in just being in front of a camera all the time. So like if I appear on camera like once a month or something, people get surprised again, and I have to explain again, and people like tell me all kinds of awful stuff about like white dude, I can't believe white people appropriating our culture, and you know, or and some people like it doesn't matter what you say, it doesn't matter how you explain your story, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter. They're just so upset about the fact that I exist at all that they just can't accept me, you know. So it's like, you know, and those people I just you know I block people like crazy on social media. I've come to this place where I used to really hurt my feelings, and I would get be upset about things for weeks, and you know, and now I'm just like uh and I just you know I've developed a much thicker skin about this. And it's also that it's helped me to be like a friend of mine actually was like one time I was just really upset because this uh influencer attacked me for being white, and you know, he had like hundreds of thousands of followers, and I was getting attacked every day by tons of people, and like he was, you know, and it just felt so disingenuous. It's just like, you know, they don't care about my story, they don't care, you know, and anyway, like uh and I was feeling really down. And I told my, you know, I was telling my friend about this, and she was like, you know, my friend who's pure pecha, cochetro dancer, you know, and she was like, Does your family judge you for looking like you look? And I'm like, no. And she's like, Does your katpuli? And I'm like, no, do your friends? And I'm like, no. And she's like, Oh, do the people you care about? And I'm like, no. And she's like, then why does it matter? It's like you're you know, like those people online are not your community. Like your community are the people that you're actually doing ceremony with, the people that you know, that you're you know, your mother, you know, like though they they are your your husband, they are your community, and all of these other people are mistaken, and you know that, so why does it matter? And like, you know, and I don't know why that didn't occur to me before, you know, because it wasn't that long ago, that was maybe like four years ago, and uh and you know, and then I was just like, Yeah, you're right. And ever since then, I've just it's it really helped me to like kind of it's been a it's been difficult. Like this whole like being an influencer, like even the word is embarrassing to me, and like uh and like the whole like everything that it involves is just like uh I just want to be an artist. But it's like it's it's important for like as a job, you know. It's like I have a lot of followers, I'll post artwork, they buy my artwork. It's like, you know, I if I don't, if I'm not selling artwork, I'm not making I'm not I you know, like I have to make money to be an artist, and like, and it's the way I've found to make a living, but man, I it is not a pleasant way to live.

Nicte-Ha:

Do you so one of the one of the things I've noticed, I think a lot of people who live here in the United States don't understand that there is a significant amount of there's its own stratification in Mexico. There's a lot of colorism in Mexico and a lot of it's tied to your economic class and goes back to the very complicated system that the Spanish had for categorizing people based on who their parents were and all of that. And so do you get most I mean, the US is very clear because of history, one drop makes you not white. Right. If you have any heritage that and if as long as you can pass, if you if you can pass completely and you hide that little bit in your history, America's like you're white. If you can't pass completely and you can't hide that bit of your heritage and you don't want to like leave your family behind, then you're not white. So it gets, I think that kind of racialized thinking gets very affects people's perception in the United States. And I know it's a little different in Mexico, but I know there's still that colorism that's tied to class. And so do you find that the people who get the most upset about it are like Chicanos here in the United States versus mexicanos, or do you feel like you get that from both both areas because of the the colorism and the racism that's developed in both places?

Chicome:

I get it. It's worse from Chicanos, I have to say. It's like I get way more attacked, but I get attacked by Mexicans too. But like, but I you know, like I that that was another part to your question that I didn't answer, and that's like Mexico is a very class-based place, and that classism is very much based on skin color, you know. So it's like it's I mean, the way we look at race is different in Mexico than in the US, and being from both places, I have to say is can be confusing for me to navigate. But like um, you know, like upper class people are 95% of the time gonna look very white, like very, very, very white presenting, and uh lower class people are gonna be darker, you know. So it's like the more indigenous you are, the closer you are to your indigenous roots, the more likely it is that you're gonna be poor. You know, so like I feel like my appearance puts me at odds with who I am because it's like I am the son, I'm the grandson of the son and grandson of indigenous people, I'm the son of an undocumented immigrant, I grew up poor, you know. Like I I did not grow up with money, and um, and I I identify like I feel like when I when See white people in Mexico, like you know, I'm I I don't I have no I have zero interest in talking to them. It's like oh they're whenever but I I can recognize a Chicano accent in Spanish, you know, there's this like little hint of gringo in there, and so when I look when I hear a Chicano, I'm always like it's a Chicano, I want to like be their friend. It's like I get this like I feel like like my paisanos are not other Mexicans.

Nicte-Ha:

You're gonna piss so many people off.

Chicome:

You can. Sorry, I'm just teasing you, I'm teasing you. I mean, not maybe everybody, but a lot, a lot.

Nicte-Ha:

I know what you mean.

Chicome:

Yeah, and like, you know, when you're in the US and you're Chicano or whatever, you're like, oh, I'm Mexican, I'm Mexican. And there's nothing like going to Mexico to be like, I am not Mexican. It's like you are like really gringo, unfortunately. And it's like uh, you know, and so like now that I'm in Mexico, it's like I am very, very in tune with my like Chicano brothers and sisters, and I feel like they are my people. It's like they're like Chicanos are the ones that I feel like we, you know, we grew up, not all of us, obviously, but we have a common backstory of like growing up disadvantaged, growing up facing racism. You know, maybe I didn't personally, but I saw it with my mother, who everybody thought was my nanny. You know, it's like we grew up with a similar story, is what I want to say. And like, and that's like uh you know something that I feel really drawn to. And like, and that story is one of disadvantage in general. And in Mexico, it's like I look like a whitesicon, you know, like I look like I like I like one of, but I culturally I'm not, you know, so it's like, and this comes back to being as like a social media person where it's like I have never in my life been able to bring myself to go to galleries and push myself as a traditional artist in that way. It's like when I was in the US before I moved to Mexico, there were very white spaces, and like I just didn't feel comfortable. Like I felt like I wasn't, I would be the only Latino in the room. And even though none of the people there knew I was a Latino unless I told them, I knew it and I felt different. I felt like I'm not like them. You know, so like there was a part of me that felt like alienated by the art world, even though I don't remember anybody ever saying anything racist or anything, but like the art, the other artists were white, the gallerists were white, the museum curators are white, everybody was white, you know, and like uh and and when I did have shows and things like that, I would sometimes wonder if like was I a way to make white curators and gallerists and museum people feel comfortable because they could look at me and see a person that looks like them, and yet they're being like liberal, like a good liberal who's giving an opportunity to like a minority. You know, I would wonder things like that, you know, like I didn't feel comfortable. And in Mexico, I don't feel comfortable either because it's like, yet again, I look like them, and when I go to a gallery here, but it's so classist, and it's the same thing. It's the same thing. It's like they're white, everybody's white. It's like, you know, it's like this, and I I just I didn't grow up with that privilege that the other people around me in Mexico it's even more strong that way. I feel like it's harder to jump classes in Mexico than it is in the US. And it's as hard in the US, but like I feel like this like these class barriers are really strong, and I just feel like so alienated from the other people who are usually pretty nice, you know. Like, I don't want to denigrate anybody, but I just feel like I don't belong. You know, so like I have never been able to bring myself to pursue the only time in my life that I have felt comfortable in the art world was in LA a couple of years ago. I had a residency in LA that lasted all summer. And because at the now, like I don't know right now with Trump and everything, but at least until pretty recently, it's like the art world has been really open to people of color and minorities. And uh I met a bunch of artists who are really great, and curators and gallerists and all kinds of people working in the art world who are Latino. And uh everybody was very supportive of each other, and that was the one and only time in my life is that summer in LA, where like going to gallery openings, which is like my job, I'm an artist, you know, was like going to gallery openings and things like that was something I actually wanted to do. Where it's like I was meeting like successful artists, talented artists, like amazing artists who were like showing in galleries and like and all the Latino artists would go to each other's openings, and it was great. Unfortunately, there's nothing like that here, you know. Like if there was like a like uh I feel like the I don't know what that would look like, like indigenous artists who are like finding a space in the upper class gallery world or something, but like you know, I being in my home again, I don't feel drawn to that world. And social media, which I kind of hate, also gives me the ability to make a living among my own community. Like I don't have to sell myself to like white people and privileged people, you know, like I can I can, you know, and which is great, but it also has its limitations. It's like I really like making like big, ambitious paintings that are like that take me months and months and months to paint, and there's no way for me to sell a painting like that for less than 15,000, 20,000, you know, dollars or more. I just can't, you know, and my and I I'm not gonna sell that painting on Instagram, you know. So it's like the gallery world is great if you can be successful in it in terms of allowing an artist to make ambitious work. Instagram, like it wants you to make fast, quick, you know, like I have to make new content every single day. So it's like it forces me to be constantly like frenetic and making all these little things that I don't really want to make. I still make my big ambitious paintings, but I'm not able to concentrate on them the way I would like because I have to do all this little stuff because it's like social media is a job. Oh my god, it's like so much work. But it's it's given me the freedom that I have for a very long time, you know. It it gets worse. It gets on demanding more.

Nicte-Ha:

Well, I mean, there's such a tension, right? So I mean, uh I was speaking to I'm still in the process of editing this interview, but I was speaking with uh Lan, who runs the on well, he ran the Ana Walk Discord on Reddit. Or sorry, Ana Walk community on Reddit and now runs the uh runs the kind of Mechica revival Discord server. So Lan Lan is one of the people who sort of founded that server and is in the process of engaging with and engaging with younger people on in kind of the mechanism that they're comfortable with, which is digital online Mexica ritual, right? Trying to teach people the correct histories, the stories and the connections that they can find. In the new generation, it's digital, right? It's through social media, it's in it's on Reddit, it's through the Discord server. And then some of those people might be detribalized and not have access to a kalpoolie, right? Or they might live in areas where that's not welcome. Some people aren't even this is a big topic of discussion. Some people are yeah, some people are even like European. So you get these like very random people online who are drawn to that work, but as you said, it gives you flexibility and it it gives you a reach and an audience that it might have been more difficult or expensive or had more barriers if you hadn't otherwise pursued it. So I can understand the creative tension and uh that that balance requires. Do you have somebody that manages your social media for you full time?

Chicome:

No, I do it all myself.

Nicte-Ha:

Oh my god.

Chicome:

I can't I can't. It's like I would like to, but like my it's like if I was just like making it's like I tell really elaborate stories that I wouldn't like my social media manager would have to like know how to handle social media and also be like either Native American or an anthropologist who like went to university. You know, it's like I require somebody so specific that like I, you know, so I I get up at like you know six every single morning, and from six to nine thirty I do social media, and then I and then like I get like a hundred messages a day, and it's like just answering those messages is like an endless, it's a never-ending it's like there is a you know, so it's just like you know, I don't know, I don't know. It's like it didn't used to be like that. It's like it used to I could I make a painting, I could I could I write text about my paintings anyway. And so it used to be that I could just like make my painting, put out my painting, put us on details, write a text, and I'm done. And it was successful. I got a lot of followers, but like they changed the algorithm like a year and a half ago, and now you have to make reels and you have to do all of this stuff. And it's like if you're not doing what they want you to do, they tell you, they send you a message and saying, like, oh, you're you know, you're you know, and it's just it's it's it turned from like an hour a day to like three, four hours a day. It's like added an extra part-time job to my life, and it's been really horrible. But you know, there's a part of me that doesn't mind. I I like educating. It's like I like once the real exists, I like it. But I wish I could, I, you know, I could do that once a week instead of every single day.

Nicte-Ha:

Right, right, right.

Chicome:

That vacations, like birthday, like it doesn't matter. It's like there's no like relaxing, you know, like it's like every single day. And and you know, and the people are crazy and they're always criticizing me, and like, I don't know. It's like it really is like it, it's a it's a it's like harsh, it's really harsh. I don't recommend it to anybody, but like, you know, I don't know. I mean, I I if it wasn't for the fact that I was already, you know, like I've been being on social media since it was the beginning, you know, so it's like I grew I've been growing with it, and I you know, it's like it's I I need to figure out alternative sources of income though.

Nicte-Ha:

I think the push on social media, it seems like, is to just live your whole life online, which is kind of the opposite of living a life that that honors you as a person, right? It's like it's almost you you're not on the the Truman show.

Chicome:

Yeah, right.

Nicte-Ha:

And it makes makes it very much, it must it must make it feel like you're on the Truman show. And does it change your perception of like does it do you find that it creeps into kind of ceremony or things where you start thinking, I should make a reel out of this or I should record this? And then that separates you from the moment. Do you find that happening to you the more that it kind of changes in this way?

Chicome:

Yeah, absolutely. But like I don't it does, I don't feel like Truman Show wise because I don't share anything personal. Like I don't put, you know, like you know, like I don't write about my husband, I don't write about like personal troubles, or you know, I don't write about my friends. You know, like I'm not like, oh, look at me at you know on vacation. I don't do that. You know, like I'm like I have a goal. My goal is to teach and like my paintings, and that's it. That's all I post about. Um, and but I do feel like it like on that level it does affect. It's like, you know, like I want to have these, you know, like I record uh there are things that I can't record because it's like it's particular moments in ceremony or particular there's nothing that I have been been told I can't record within the tradition that I belong to. Like everything is like cameras are allowed, but there are moments that are just too intimate. It's like it doesn't feel right, or like to get the camera in there would be like there's moments that it just can't be done. But like uh I do I'm I am I am I record everything and I do think that you know sometimes where it's like you know, there's a part of me where it's like, oh, I need you know content for I which is a word I hate. I'm an artist, not a content maker, but at any rate, it's like you know, uh I need content for you know like for my whatever, you know, like and um you know, but I but I'll but at the same time it's like I genuinely want to teach. And the ceremonies are beautiful, and um I treat ceremony as like a canvas, you know, it's like it's spiritual, but it's also like when I'm in ceremony, I do something that probably people in ceremony shouldn't do, which is that like I spend an awful lot of time like not present and rather imagining like, oh, the ceremony would be better if there was like this like work of art, or if I give if there was the regalia was changed. I'm like such a visual person that I can't like stop myself from like constantly like reimagining my space. And uh and I and I'm lucky that I'm surrounded by people who are like they want to be in that space that I want to create, you know. So like the more elaborate ceremonies that I hold are very elaborate, and like you know, I make beautiful regalia, ceremonial objects, I write poetry and songs, I do all kinds of stuff to like to take the base of what we're already doing and to make it richer and to like pull in like elements that have either been lost or that are other indigenous people have allowed me to integrate into what we do, or you know, things like that. And uh, and of course I want to like record all of that. I want to do that because I'm proud of what I'm doing, you know, ego, and I want to do it because I want to uh teach and share, you know. But but you know, there's an element of there's a camera in there. It's like if I don't have the strength of will personally to just stop, but if if our teachers were like cameras are no longer allowed, there's a part of me that we go that's kind of like a relief, in part because it's like if I'm holding the camera or if if I'm being seen by the camera, either way, it takes you out of the space. You're suddenly aware of how you look as opposed to like what you're doing. And uh to a certain extent, it's like there, you know, there's a lot of ceremonial traditions where it's like cameras aren't allowed, and that makes perfect sense to me. Uh they are allowed where I'm in the spaces that I'm in, and and I take advantage of that. And I don't think that is bad to the extent that I can share it, but like I don't know, it's one of those balances.

Nicte-Ha:

So, on the topic of ceremony, since you're an artist and you're such a prolific artist, do you have a daily ceremony that you engage in before you paint? Since it sounds like you know, your painting life and your spiritual life are so intertwined. So is there, if you want to share it, is there a particular ceremony that you engage in around your art as a spiritual work on maybe a daily basis or a regular basis?

Chicome:

There is, but it's not daily. It is regular, but not in I um so I make so many things that serve different purposes. So it's like I make artwork that's straight up like to make a product, you know, because I, you know, I sell clothes and I sell stuff, you know, like to make a living, you know. And I also love that stuff. I love wearing the clothes that I make, you know.

Nicte-Ha:

But like uh buy your earrings, by the way. I do like the earrings.

Chicome:

Um so I make I make uh you know things, I and then I make like I make sacred objects that I don't share online that are meant only for ceremony, you know. So it's like so like there's a full range of what I make, and like what I make, the way I act, like what I make is determines the way I act around it. So it's like um, for example, if I'm making like these paintings that are behind well, you can it's a podcast, they're not gonna be able to see them, but I'm working at some paintings right now that are um are that have to do with um uh what we were talking about, the balance of giving and taking from the world. They're not paintings of of Teteo of gods, they're paintings of people and acting like one of them is farming, one of them, you know, but they're not sacred paintings, they're like they're paintings to illustrate an idea. So I paint those normally. I don't like, you know, I didn't do anything special. I'm just painting them. But if I paint uh God, uh I want that image to be placed on altars. I want it, you know, maybe the original is gonna end up in a gallery and I'm gonna sell it because I need the money, but like, and there's also no temples to put it in, unfortunately. But like I really want the print of it to be going on people's altars and things like that. So in the tradition that I belong to, we wear a red headband and red belt, you know, and so like uh there's a particular movement that we make, which is like uh an offering movement and a permission movement. So like I'll make that movement with my red headband above the painting or to the painting and ask the permission of the God or the sacred entity or whatever, the sacred force that I'm gonna paint. And then I put on my headband and belt and I paint while wearing them. Because I, you know, I feel the pressure, I feel them on my body, and it's like a and it's like an it's like asking them to guide me, to inspire me towards truth, you know. And I do that for anything I'm gonna anytime I'm gonna make anything sacred. And then we do more than that. So it's like every uh day, one alligator, one crocodile, Sesipakli, which happens once every 260 days. I do a peregrinacion, like a pilgrimage to a sacred space and bring paper, paintbrushes, things like that, especially paper. Um, and I we do a little, you know, if there's depending on we do it slightly different every time, but you know, like uh we might do a dance or we might go really far away and like make an offering. I always bring my gaythorns and pierce my skin and bleed on the paper, and ask uh Sipakli to guide me. Uh he's a god of of artists and writing and things like that. And and I'm and I mark each page so that it is because I I can just keep it with the rest of my paper, but it's like marked so that I don't use it accidentally for anything else. And then I use that paper only to make sacred things, you know. So like there's a certain like rituality that I do, you know. Oh, oh, and like another thing that I do is like Sochi Pili and Sipakli are the two Sipaktonal are the two gods of artists. So it's like every day that it's uh Sochi Pili's day, I also do a pilgrimage for him because I feel like uh Sochi Pili has been present in my heart since I was a child, and he has guided me every day of my life, you know, which has been towards, you know, like being an artist is like you know, it's such a strong part of my identity and who I am, and like the way I make a living, the way, you know, like I engage with the world, it's like, and uh and Sochi Bili is the one who gave me that. So, you know, I owe him thanks like every day of my life. So, you know, and like uh, you know, so I have a little altar for him, a big altar for him. And uh, you know, so yeah, I do things for the you know, but it depends on what I'm making.

Nicte-Ha:

And and for your for your family, how how what was their reaction when you started being more open about or more I guess of an intimate participant in ceremonia like this? Was it was it something that was familiar? It sounds like maybe it's your because your grandmother was uh taken from her people. Your great great grandmother was taken from her people? Your grandmother was taken from her people. Was she did she live to see your and is she still alive? I don't know if she could she could be. Did she so she didn't live to see you start participating in ceremony? Does your mother was she Catholic? And I know that's complicated because we just talked about the syncretism of a lot of mexicanos, and so is she does she join you in ceremony, or is this something like you know, she sees that it has benefits for you and loves your path and loves you, or what's the what how is your family's reaction to your spiritual tradition?

Chicome:

Well, my my grandmother died, so you know, a long time ago when I was a kid. My my mother um is very, very, very Catholic. Um and uh but I feel like as a particular kind of Mexican Catholic, that's like uh pretty like harsh in some ways, but open in others. So it's like we've never really talked about like like I've never like said, you know, in front of to my mother or like you know, oh I give offerings to Sochi Bee and I do that, you know. I never said anything like that, but like, you know, she sees my social media, like she's like, you know, she reads hears my videos and all of that. And you know, whenever we talk about it, it's you know, she's usually like, oh, I'm so happy that you're you know, like risk restoring our heritage, and you know, like she only says positive things. Uh I'm scared to delve too deeply into it. I I'm not sure why I would, for one thing. It's like there's I don't know what it would accomplish. And um uh and I'm worried that she, you know, like if she thinks about it too deeply, like she might not, you know. I don't know. I'm a little nervous, but like uh but no, she only says nice things to me.

Nicte-Ha:

That's wonderful. She sounds like an amazing woman.

Chicome:

Yeah, she is.

Nicte-Ha:

Um, okay. I think let's see. Oh gosh, I have so many thoughts. I think I could talk to you for like four hours. I had this thought when we were talking about when you were talking about the indigenous spirituality. I was thinking, you know, there's it always strikes me when I study or when I read about Meshika religion and the and the ideas behind death and blood. I think like, oh my gosh. No wonder you could kind of take Christianity, because what is that if not like a sacrifice of a human being, right? And so you would underst they would understand the idea of sacrificing a life for some form of rebirth, right? Because those ideas, I know they don't map exactly, but I can see how you can wind them together. But then I think about Catholicism and that element of the framework of community. And I know that evangelical Christianity and more charismatic forms of Christianity are on the rise in Mexico. And so I wonder how that's gonna impact. You don't have to answer this. This is literally just my brain spinning out. But I wonder how much that shift to more evangelical or charismatic forms of Christianity affects that community fabric of everybody celebrating the Santos, everyone doing the ceremonies. Because I feel like in evangelical Christianity, there's very much this very strong idea of the devil and possession and wanting to avoid that. And so I wonder if that tears at some of that communal fabric in the indigenous community. I see them here in Chicago, where I live. There's all of these like very charismatic, small, you know, Iglesia de la Navarreen or whatever. They're all these little tiny charismatic churches, and I know it's making inroads in the Catholic Church. And I just wonder what that does to the uh to the community fabric in those communities.

Chicome:

Well, it's not good. I don't know too much about it, but there's a I've read about a community's, I think in Chiapas, where part of the community became evangelical and like it turned into like it's it turned violent. Like the, you know, like the Catholic people, I feel like they drove them out or something. Or I don't know. Like it's once you do that, it's like, you know, the traditional culture, whether you're indigenous or m or like not, like small town life too, it's like all wrapped up with uh tradition, whether that's Catholic or Native American. And as soon as that gets pulled in, it's like the community itself gets fractured. Like I know that happens, but like you know, it doesn't affect me that much. Like I, you know, I I don't I was raised Catholic, I don't really get Protestants. I don't know what they're you know, like I've I've never really been exposed to any, you know, like uh it's not something that I ever think about, you know. And um Catholicism, I do. I think about it with a lot. It's like, oh my god, I grew up I grew up with it, I'm surrounded by it. It's like, you know, it's like uh but um but yeah, I know that it has an effect, but I don't really know know too much beyond that. Um but but you you like something that you said before that though, that I I don't agree with is um I do think that like Catholicism and indigenous spirituality are utterly and completely different. It's like I think that there's an aesthetic element where it's like Jesus died and it looks kind of like a you know a blood sacrifice and things like that, and it gets incorporated in certain ways where it's like you know, like what I've said about like the Jesus getting spirit on the side and corn falling out, it's like the blood gets substituted with corn, and that's clearly linked to indigenous ideas, but like indigenous, like European ways of thinking in Catholicism is very much about like good and evil, like uh linear time that begins and ends, like you know, there's there's like I feel like at its fundamental base in European spirituality is utterly and completely different. It's like you know, monotheism is completely divorced from the pantheism that's indigenous to Mexico. You know, it's like they're so different that um oh I agree.

Nicte-Ha:

I think what I was talking about was was as you said it, the aesthetic Oh yeah, there's the surface level imagery. You could kind of see where the where the the priests kind of put the hooks in to kind of like talk about Catholicism. And I know they imposed it without really converting people, but I think you're right. Aesthetically, there are sort of elements that are similar, but not in the deeper theology.

Chicome:

Yeah, no, in in the in the deepest sense, they're like Western culture and indigenous culture are not aligned in any way, they're completely different. And uh yeah, so like, yeah, and it's and it's been a beautiful path to be to be searching that, learning about it, integrating it into who I am, and helping others to do the same.

Nicte-Ha:

Well, thank you so much. This is I I think let's see, I could keep talking, but I think that I want to be respectful of your time because I know what a busy person you are. And I just want to say that I found this, I think, through you actually. And it's on the Jade Oracle deck. And so what I've been doing is I've been doing polls from it for my um for my my interviews and just sort of seeing what comes up. And so I for this conversation, I got that's so funny. And I got the rabbit, and I got the flayed one.

Chicome:

Okay.

Nicte-Ha:

And so the way that I read the the kind of three that I that popped out was I use this more as like a guide to any just to give me a sense of some things to maybe ask for or talk about. But the Shipethotek card is a reminder of the interdependency of existence and that death is not an end but a way to a beginning, which is very much what you expressed. Yes. And then is I think if I'm reading this correctly, that you take off your mask and be your authentic self. And you, as a teacher, you as an artist, I feel like that really represents what you do, right? You embody everything that you are in what you do. And then I also have Sholot, who is a guide, right? Sholot is the twin, El Hemelo, he's here to help you find your way in the darkness. And so I think your work and your words can really guide a lot of people who are kind of lost in this maze of confusion and the kind of web of history that we find ourselves caught in as people who are in between cultures and finding our way spiritually and personally. One thing I've been so it seems like I was initially, I was like, I don't know what all of these cards have to do with this conversation. But I feel like once again, the Jade Oracle cards really help to bring uh to they they're very predictive. I'm getting a little bit weirded out now.

Chicome:

But today is the day five movement, which is sacred to Sherlock.

Nicte-Ha:

Oh my god, are you serious?

Chicome:

Yeah, it was so crazy. I actually put I posted about that on my Instagram today.

Nicte-Ha:

There's a whole thing I did not look at your Instagram, so I had no idea. Wow, that's wild. Well, one thing that I've been asking people is just to close out, if there are any, if there's any particular, I mean, I think you've had a lot of really wise words for us in your experiences and how you share and what you do, but if there's anything that you would like to specifically share um to kind of close this out, either a thought or a reflection that you hope that people leave the conversation with, or a poem or a piece of writing, anything that you would like to share with people uh to close out the conversation, now is the time.

Chicome:

No, I think that it like what I I mean, I feel like the main thing that I'm always repeating over and over and over is this idea about living in balance with the world that we're in, about the debt that we owe. And uh, you know, I feel like that's the root of all indigenous wisdom and knowledge. And, you know, whatever one feels about like ponchetto dance or Aztec dance or you know, like our heritage or the world that we live in, or like whether you're a Chicago Mexican person or a white person or whoever listening to this, I feel like it's equally true. You know, so like uh like I sound like a broken record, but I will repeat it. The this importance that like the world gives us everything that we need to live, and we need to give back.

Nicte-Ha:

Thank you. Well, you definitely give back in all of your art and all of your words.

Chicome:

Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. Well, it was an honor to be on the show. Thank you so much. I had a lovely time.

Nicte-Ha:

Thank you. It was it was a beautiful conversation.

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