The legend of the Virgen of Zapopan began in 1525 when Franciscan friars arrived in what is now Zapopan to convert the local Indians. Legend has it that Padre Antonio de Segovia carried a cornhusk doll representation of the Virgin Mary in a case hung around his neck.
Local Indians came to believe the doll had metaphysical powers, which perhaps explains why historical accounts tell us that they surrendered to the Spaniards during a critical battle when they saw Father Segovia atop a hill with the image around his neck. Since then the lore of miracles surrounding the Virgin of Zapopan has grown to include saving lives during a plague in 1734, keeping blood from being shed during the war of Independence in 1821 (after which the Virgin also took on the name “La Generala”), saving Guadalajara from floods in 1909, and raising the water level of Lake Chapala in 1956 after ten years of drought.In 1988, Pope John Paul II declared the Virgin “Patroness of the Archdiocese of Guadalajara” although she had already been named “Protectress of Guadalajara Against Storms, Lightning and Epidemics” by city officials after her miracles during the 1734 plague.
Throughout most of the year, the 13-inch, corn-based paste statue (which in 1731 replaced the cornhusk figure) occupies a place of honor above the altar of the Zapopan Basilica. In June she begins her four-month romeria throughout the parish headquarter churches of Jalisco, offering the devout a chance to directly display their faith to the Virgin, pray in her presence and ask her for favors.
The legend of the Virgin of Zapopan is one of many recountings of the clashes and mixings between the native peoples of Mexico and the conquering Spaniards that began after Columbus “discovered” the New World in 1492.
More than 500 years later, the anniversary of Columbus’ arrival is still viewed somewhat ambiguously in Mexico and the rest of Latin America. Does it mark the beginning of the end for the rich indigenous cultures that were here long before the Europeans, or does it mark the union of the two halves of the world?
For this reason, Columbus Day (celebrated Monday, October 14 in the United States) is known more circumspectly as Dia de la Raza (Day of the Race) in most Latin American countries. In Mexico, the day is not even considered a national holiday. Such is the antipathy and even resentment toward the date that in many cities, militant indigenous groups have marked the commemoration in their own special way: by coating statues of Columbus with red paint to represent the blood spilled in the wake of his “achievement.”
The short Dia de la Raza program in Guadalajara usually takes place at 10 a.m. at the Columbus statue at the convergence of Avendias Lopez Mateos and Americas. The Virgin of Zapopan celebration begins many hours earlier as hundreds of dancers assemble in the darkness along Avenida Alcalde and 16 de Septiembre. Mass is conducted in the Guadalajara Cathedral followed by the 6 a.m. beginning of the procession of musicians, religious marchers, danzantes and charros up Alcalde and Avila Camacho to the basilica. Some estimate that up to three million people line the route to watch and cheer as the tiny icon and her entourage pass by. The Virgin brings up the rear of the three-hour procession, escorted by snappily dressed honor guards from numerous Roman Catholic organizations and senior religious officials.
Once the Virgin is safely returned inside the basilica and after a Mass, many groups will continue to dance in the huge Plaza de las Americas until they literally drop with exhaustion.