by Elisa Martínez
EL PASO, Texas – I have a great looking pair of Mexican leather sandals — huaraches — hanging on the wall in my den. My daughter Analissa and I were enticed by their distinctive charm in an open-air market in Guanajuato, Mexico, many years ago. We each bought a pair.
She wore hers forever. I never wore mine because they weighed a ton.
But they remain permanent fixtures on my den wall and a source of good conversation, once my friends from north of the border learn to pronounce them.
Wah-RAH-chess.
“Why are those shoes on your wall?” they want to know.
Most Mexicans (except a few snooty city folk who don’t care for anything Indio) have at least one pair of huaraches. Frida Kahlo probably had more.
She wore them wherever she went.
They do beautifully in dirt, water, mud, cement or any other walking surface. They are standard wear, especially in this border city of El Paso.
You can even find them on babies’ tiny feet.
Even the mini ones can carry big cultural messages. In his autobiography “From the Barrio to Washington,” Armando Rodríguez relates a clash he and other Chicano movement pioneers had with Washington bureaucrats at what was to be a ground-breaking Mexican-American conference set up by the Lyndon Johnson White House. Frustrated by the event’s indifferent planning by the Equal Opportunity Commission staff and low-level participation of its officials, all of the three dozen invited Mexican-American participants walked out in protest as the conference was about to start.
Their walkout made national news. Later, a banquet was held in Los Angeles in support of their defiance. At it, those who walked out were presented with mini-huarache lapel pins bearing the printed message, “I walked.” Soon thereafter, five of the walkout leaders were invited to the White House to help frame future Hispanic programs.
Huarache power!
When I was young, I wore huaraches all the time. I would put them on new and then soak my feet in water. A perfect fit when they dried, stretching just right to every fold of my feet.
The rarámuri (Tarahumara Indians) have made their running huaraches famous. They can go for miles and never quit. They have been on feet that won marathons here in the United States. The story is told that the rarámuri once were invited to participate in the Olympics but they declined because they just couldn’t perform as well in the running shoes authorized for the Games.
Huaraches are almost indestructible. They take years of hard wear and scuffing. You can buy them for a few dollars in public mercados throughout Mexico.
Most are crafted by hand. The uppers are cut and sewn with an artisan’s skill and attached to a sole made of junked automobile tires. While they will scuff your floors with nasty black marks, they won’t skid on wet pavement.
Usually they’re a light brown color. Some zapateros may dye them black or red. One time I was tempted by a pair of shiny green ones, but I feared my feet might turn the same shade.
Recently I saw an eye-catching ad in The New York Times. “HOT!” it said in pink and orange letters under a picture of a disheveled, sexy-looking girl. “The huarache sandal…Be a Bohemian!” It listed appropriate articles of clothing to complete the LOOK.
Bienvenido to the world of designer huarache sandals. They come in great colors like walnut, cognac and chestnut. The designers’ names are written in bold letters. While the prices, up to $298.00, are excruciating, if you’re on a budget, there’s a bargain model for $98.00.
Wow, how we’ve gone up in the world!
I’m sitting here thinking of all the Mexican creations in clothing styles and music and foods that are so “in” now and wonder why so many people want Mexicans “out.” Hispanic Link News Service.
(Elisa Martínez, a lifelong transborder resident and retired teacher, has contributed columns to Hispanic Link for more than a quarter century. Email her at emar37@flash.net.
