Hormigas rojas

by Pergentino José

A literary triumph by one of Mexico's most promising young authors, Red Ants is the first ever literary translation into English from the Sierra Zapotec. This vibrant collection of short stories by Pergentino José updates magical realism for the 21st century. Red Ants paints a candid picture of indigenous Mexican life -- an essential counterpoint to cultural products of the colonial gaze. José's fantastical stories tackle themes of family, love, and independence in his signature unapologetically personal, coolly emotional, and always surprising.

Genres: Short Stories, Fiction, Magical Realism, Indigenous

112 pages, Paperback

First published August 15, 2012

Reviews

[s.penkevich [hiatus-will return-miss you all] · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘I heard the bridge of dreams breaking, somewhere.’

There is a mythical and marevelous quality to the stories collected in Pergentino José’s Red Ants that get under your skin. Like a dream you can’t quite recall, these stories echo in your thoughts, teasing your mind to probe them further. This is quite an achievement, in part as Red Ants boasts being the first literary work translated into English from the indigenous Sierra Zapotec language of Oaxaca, Mexico. These stories, often surreal, bear a cultural weight that feels akin to the mythological as they subvert a colonial gaze and address identity, family and exploitive political and environmental issues. With a dream-like nature, Red Ants curls and sways like smoke, always visible but difficult to hold onto.

The Sierra Zapotec is a tonal language that comes from an indigenous pre-Columbian civilization based in what is modern day Oaxaca. While these stories are modern, and occasionally make reference to modern technology like the internet, they still feel rather timeless as if they could be old stories passed down for generations. There is an element of magical realism infused in them as well as a shifting, dream-logic-esque unfolding of events that occasionally borders almost on horror. People change in front of your eyes, events suddenly shift with little explanation and the story seems to play out almost independently of themselves. They are short, most from 5 to 10 pages, but stick in the mind and benefit from repeat readings.

There is a deep connection between land and people, with the culture inseparable with the hills, valleys and plant and animal life it exists around. ‘Where I come from, we hide our secrets in the roots of ferns,’ a mother tells her daughter in The Priestess on the Mountain, ‘they are the only plants that go on growing in the dark.’ The story of the land and animals is also the story of the people. We have bamboo being cut down to make way for coffee fields to enrich the imperialists, great beasts of the land being slaughtered but, when needed, protecting the people of the land. There is a duality where the natural world is both threatening or protecting, as are the people to the world such as in Heart of Birds where to protect the people a man harms the very birds he was destined to protect.

Bulls, birds and especially ants appear in multiple stories, each time expanding their imagery and meaning in the kaleidoscopic narratives. Late in the collection we are told red ants ‘frees the spirits of any person buried underground,’ and, fittingly, many of these stories tend to take place in subterranean cells and rooms. We have stories of underground cells with flowing rivers or filling up with worms, dark rooms impossible to escape from, and door knobs that crumble in your hand. There is a strong prison imagery--both real and figurative--throughout the collection compounded with the frequent mention of police, Sentinels and soldiers that are terrorizing the people. Being written in an indigenous language, this immediately recalls the colonialism of the region and the traditional myth-like aspects of the stories give them a sense of mythological revolt against the oppressors (a menacing wall being built to the North is referenced, by the way). Missing persons, cloak-and-dagger meetings in dark alleys, guns weighing down pockets, all add to the general revolutionary sense to the stories that pair well to the natural world stories or the mythological ones through José’s dreamlike prose blending them all so effortlessly.

Violence is never far away from mythology and violence is a ever present part of the natural order of things here. It is a land haunted by bloodshed, much in a way that resonates on similar wavelengths with authors like Juan Rulfo but still wholly original. As with all the themes here, violence is depicted both as evil but also as occasionally necessary. In Prayers we learn of a folkloric-like hero who sits and waits on a rock in a dark alley, his hammer dripping with the blood of the occupying soldiers. In The Snorting of Bulls, a young girl commits an act of violence to defend herself from the constant sexual assault of an older landowner, only to have bulls crush the mob intent on killing her for it.

‘The bridge of dreams broke,’ José writes, ‘but this world does not belong to you.’ This is a celebration of the indigenous spirit and culture, one that reminds imperialists that no matter what their guns and titles and power may say, the land is never truly theirs. This is a startlingly good collection with everything from bird gods massacring unfaithful priests to agoraphobic landscape painters. Short but blissfully succinct, Red Ants is a stunning collection of stories from a young author just overflowing with talent.

4/5

[Mariana · Rating 3 out of 5]

Me gustó bastante el estilo del autor, lo malo fue que me costó adentrarme en sus historias. He visto reseñas que usan la palabra onírico para describir estos relatos y concuerdo totalmente. Todos se sienten como parte de un sueño, o más bien de una pesadilla, en la que los protagonistas constantemente están buscando a alguien, aunque ellos mismos dan la sensacion de estar perdidos. En la descripción del libro se dice que el autor usa la mitología zapoteca en estas historias y eso fue precisamente lo que me hizo querer leerlo, sin embargo, como no estoy para nada familiarizada con dicha mitología creo que quizá perdí muchas de las referencias. En general diría que la atmósfera, el ambiente de estos cuentos me gustó mucho pero las tramas me dejaron muy confundida.

[Beth Mowbray · Rating 4 out of 5]

I flew through Red Ants! Deep Vellum’s latest release is a brief collection of short stories originally written in Sierra Zapotec and the first literary work of this language to be translated into English. This book “paints a candid picture of indigenous Mexican life—an essential counterpoint to cultural products of the colonial gaze.”

These 17 stories set in Oaxaca, Mexico will leave your head spinning with their deft use of magical realism. Simple, everyday scenes bleed into the surreal within mere lines of text. I recommend the reader take their time with this one, in order to absorb the most from the rich texture of these stories. I myself would like to revisit these tales of family, love, pain, and indigenous life again soon.

Red Ants left me thinking a lot about the process of translation as well ... what a skill, an art, it is to be able to take a body of work and reshape it into a different language without losing the inherent rhythm, tone, and mood of the original. This is a type of magic that Deep Vellum clearly possesses, so be sure to check them out if you have not!

Many thanks to Deep Vellum for gifting me an advance copy of Red Ants. All thoughts and opinions expressed here are entirely my own.

[eleanor ✩ · Rating 4 out of 5]

josé does magical realism so well—reading this felt like dipping in and out of so many worlds (my favorite was heart of birds). the narratives themselves feels murky and surreal yet they still held me. the boundary between magic and realism was blurry, with some stories containing very real imperial violence and torture. there's a lot to unpack here on land, mythology, violence, and indigenous resistance, and i would recommend this as both an easy read (in terms of form) and also something that can be reread many times

[Adrian Alvarez · Rating 4 out of 5]

Extremely well produced book here. I'm impressed with the attention to detail from Deep Vellum Publishing. The book of short stories isn't too shabby, either. This is the first translated literary work originally written in the Sierra Zapotec language and the stories are absolutely haunting. Magical realism dialed up to 11, and the effect is beautiful and dream-like. Unfortunately, the stories are also very easy to forget. Like, total memory wipe as soon as you finish the last page. I think that has to do with the way a reader experiences them and I'm still wrestling with whether that is a bad thing or not because certainly while reading I felt a sense of urgency and exhilaration. Your experience may be different but I do recommend you find out!

[Daniela · Rating 4 out of 5]

El mundo de Pergentino me causa una fascinación nueva. Aún le falta acabarlo más, reacomodarlo y mostrarlo más limpio. Pero indudablemente quiero saber más de él, quiero descubrirlo completo y recorrerlo sin esta ceguera que comienzo a quitarme. En especial me encantó el cuento "Rastros de bambú". Aunque todos van mostrando un poco de ese mundo repleto de leyendas y mitos nativos de la bella Oaxaca, considero ese cuento como el más completo, aquél que me transmitió algo (no sé qué aún) de forma llena.

[Janet · Rating 5 out of 5]

My initial reaction, surprise by the use of Zapoteco in a contemporary work of literature. The work is interesting and the stories create a dream like world. The book is a compilation of short stories that are interesting.

[K's Bognoter · Rating 4 out of 5]

Josés skrift – ihvertfald her i Thomas Bunsteads oversættelse til engelsk – er på én gang meget enkel og meget gådefuld. Hans sætninger sugede mig ind i hans univers, som jeg imidlertid – ligesom personerne novellerne – havde jeg mere end svært ved at orientere mig i, men heller ikke havde let ved at undslippe.

Da jeg læste bogen for en lille uge siden, var jeg en smule skuffet og småirriteret over, at José havde valgt at gøre det så vanskeligt for os læsere. Men stemningen i historierne har ikke sluppet mig, er snarere vokset på mig siden, også i en grad, så jeg faktisk har haft fat i bogen igen og genlæst en god del af novellerne helt eller delvist. Og dét er ellers noget, der sker sjældent for mig.

Læs hele min anmeldelse på K’s bognoter: https://bognoter.dk/2021/04/05/pergen...

[Gera Rojas · Rating 5 out of 5]

Vigésimo séptimo libro leído en 2021.

Surreal y cautivador. ¿Cómo pude no conocer a José Pergentino en tanto tiempo?

Es un deleite descubrir que personas del extranjero adoran la escritura mexicana, concretamente de autores de microficción e historias cortas de realismo mágico. Y es que veo a este género literario como la excusa perfecta para representar a nuestras comunidades rurales, cultura que existe y resiste.

La próxima vez que visite Oaxaca tendré que buscar a don José.

Mis cuentos favoritos de esta antología (en orden de aparición):
— Hormigas rojas.
— No es a ti.
— En el corazón de los pájaros.
— Rezos.
— La sacerdotisa de la montaña.
— Voz de luciérnaga.

[Sherlyn Rojas · Rating 5 out of 5]

Llegué a este libro por casualidad, lo único que sabía es que la narrativa era parecida a Pedro Páramo. Dios santo no se cómo no lo leí antes, es de mis mejores lecturas en lo que va del año y fue el libro número 30 ☺️, dejando a un lado eso diré mi reseña.

El inicio puede desconcertarte un poco, pero en seguida agarra el ritmó de la lectura, no diría que es la misma narrativa que Pedro Páramo, pero sí un poco similar. Cada relato tiene su magia y podemos encontrarnos personas penando en algún lugar, también con guías espirituales y uno que otro nahual; suena raro lo sé aunque eso hace mágico este libro y de verda que no se arrepentirán de leerlo 😉.

Para teminar quiero decir que esta lectura pasa a formar parte de mí ❤.

[Heidi Goehmann · Rating 2 out of 5]

I do not think I am smart enough for magical realism. I do think this is a fabulous translation.

[Bob Lopez · Rating 3 out of 5]

Odd collection of stories I enjoyed reading. They mostly felt like surreal nightmares, or like I was dropped into the midst of a longer story. Would love a novel from this perspective/author because the micro-shorts and short shorts don't give me enough.

[Lanie Tankard · Rating 4 out of 5]

RED ANTS is the December selection for "Eye on the Indies" at THE WOVEN TALE PRESS. Here's my review: https://www.thewoventalepress.net/202...

[Heronimo Gieronymus · Rating 5 out of 5]

What is this image? “I know what you’re thinking. You heard the bridge of dreams breaking, somewhere.” Surely it is strange of me, your commentator for the interim, to ask a question about images respective of a statement related to auditory phenomena and even before that…maybe…telepathy (?). Well, no, not to the ardent pursuer of the greater rostrums, peacock or praying mantis, or anybody who think of the deal as first and foremost a matter of ‘poetic imagination.’ You do not need to know who Gaston Bachelard is in order to accept for the time being that it is perhaps ‘images’ of a sort that are produced by that IMAG-ination of ours! The words I have quoted appear more than once precisely as sequenced above—and the crucial ones a great many more times, separately or together—in the English translation of Pergentino José’s RED ANTS, a collection of stories by a young, ahem, "Latin American" writer that would be notable on any account, but is of course all the morse so because this is the first ever literary work to be translated into English from the Sierra Zapotec language. As this is an unambiguously indigenous author breaking, at least at the site of composition, with the intermediary of the “subaltern” and/or the instrumental support—or however sinister you wanna frame it—of the colonizer language (or tongue!).

From “Threads of Steam,” the third story in the collection: “Suddenly I see my mother before me, walking through the steam. Her face is contorted—as though in overwhelming pain. I feel myself begin to fall but manage to keep to my feet. I think of Itza, the one memory I can grasp on to. My mother walks toward an iron door at the far end of the room, it seems to be the way out.” Then a door that won’t close. Then: “I try to think of Itza, only for lights to explode inside my mind.” In the story “Departure,” where we also find “dusty sea-blue wall” and incomprehensibly impotent firearms, it is black and dark that explodes within the field of internal, immersive purview, not radiant light, its maybe twin.

You are looking deep into a well and things are starting to appear there because you are looking so hard. It is not novel or radical to insist that dreams are yelling at you in order to get your attention about something. Pergentino José is very much interested in doors that sometimes open and sometimes don’t…or thresholds that only cooperate fitfully...as well as the kinds of nebulous zones that go along with such doors and thresholds…avid readers know the kind…

From “Prayers”: “I have crossed half the city, felt impelled to do so in spite of the repeat calls expressly forbidding us from going outside after seven in the evening.” It is in this story that we come to detect in our author eerie similarities to de facto ‘outsider artist’ and New York-residing Spaniard Felipe Alfau, especially the collection LOCOS, whose small stock company of barroom denizens keeps somersaulting out of the world like hellacious flora. It’s how we dream, or often what dreaming looks like. There couldn't be nothin' more like Alfau, I shouldn’t imagine, than that bit near the end of “Prayers” where a cartwheeling consideration of criminal complicity terminates in a weighing of the perhaps MANY people “who are the man with the hammer.” It is also the panic that busts through a limit into fugue and starts hearing incomprehensible things from strange visitors. As in the cinema of David Lynch. Perception itself is something by which the characters in RED ANTS are routinely struck as one is by a violent blow. (“Above the confusion, I heard goldfinches and toucans singing out in alarm.”) If there is any doubt remaining that this indigenous voice pulls from a mythological bedrock touching on, it would quickly seem, all others, let us note of course the dreamtime and songlines of Australia’s aborigines and the title of Werner Herzog’s 1984 film WHERE THE GREEN ANTS DREAM.

We are meant to read and certainly end up having to read the stories collected in RED ANTS as voices within the buffeted container of a language on a lifeline, translated into Spanish and then into English, which sees its and other voices as conditioned by peril beyond the capabilities of any sort of proper processing. This post-colonial world is our world, and the prevalence of Latin-derivative given names evokes a legacy of subjection and forced assimilation that has a lot of trauma and terror in it. Still, this is not a collection steeped in arcana or tribal lore. We are often in towns and cities. There is even on the periphery of “Departure” a real smart-tootin’ mass-shootin’-type scenario, as I guess there would be, as these stories are steeped in fear, stress, and hallucinatory intercession. Now, the mass shooting in “Departure,” mind, probably evokes Jean-Paul Sarte’s 1939 shorty story “Erostratus” more than it does anything in your news cycle. Don’t experience disconsolation over this! That would be barbaric.

Of the red ants themselves. Well, yes, indeed, what of them? In “Priestess of the Mountain,” the twelfth of the collection’s seventeen stories, we come upon not only the ants but their outright Lovecraftian profusion, indicating, as the teeming tinies would seem to do, envoy or entry to “a path to the center of the earth.” (THE BRIDGE OF DREAMS HAS BROKEN. HOLD YOUR CENTRE.) Clearly, the subterranean terrain here is not dissimilar to the short story collection VERTICAL MOTION by lauded contemporary Chinese author Can Xue, except for the fact that Can Xue is not an author who explores panic and impotence the way Pergentino José is inclined to. For this fascinating and remarkable young writer from the Legal Fiction Known As Mexico, the hollow earth, or the space for its myth-time, is the body’s experimental-scientist helliocentrim and a canister you ought to know about that is in your gut and ready to set you free…or maybe just blow it all to hell and gone…

[Mits · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book of short stories was so tonally similar it could have been a cohesive narrative. It was so dreamlike, a sense of foreboding and confusion permeating each story. People lost other people, settings shifted around them, and death or disaster was omnipresent. Each story conveyed a strong feeling of a setting, rather than any understanding of plot or character. A compelling and brief trip into a haze.

[isaac · Rating 4 out of 5]

“The earth shakes when this many people are in pain.”
This collection of short stories is so emotionally packed, and each story feels so unique, but also as if it’s also related to the previous one. The intimacy invoked with each story made me feel as if I knew these characters, some of which didn’t even have names! There was a sort of magical realism floating between each story, it felt so natural I didn’t even question when a character became a mountain lion. The settings and moods Pergentino Jose ensnares us with, create a world I can almost touch. I could feel the damp air around me, the egg shells breaking at my feel, worms about my skin, and even felt the panic most characters felt. I really enjoyed this collection of short stories, my favorites were ‘Heart of Birds’, ‘Bamboo Traces’, ‘The Priestess on the Mountain’, ‘Voice of the Firefly’ and ‘The Snorting of Bulls’. Most of my favorites included some woman’s rage or anger, and I really appreciated the way these feelings were depicted. The stories each felt as if they were going on during some type of crisis, whether it was war, natural disaster, or other people. I would definitely like to reread this one and see if I can’t get more understanding out of it. So for now I’ll leave this at 4 stars.

[Alan · Rating 3 out of 5]

This short story collection caught my eye because it was originally written in Zapotec, the language of a Oaxacan civilization contemporaneous with the better-known Mayan and Aztec civilizations, and which appears to be undergoing a literary renaissance, though in a modern Latin script rather than the ancient hieroglyphs. This English version may be translated from the Spanish rather than the Zapotec (it's actually unclear), but the text includes a number of untranslated Zapotec phrases. The stories are very very short, so short that perhaps it is better to describe them as vignettes rather than stories. Many of them are highly evocative, verging on a sort of prose poetry. Despite their beauty, these same vignettes are largely non-sensical to me. Perhaps they allude to Zapotec imagery of which I am wholly ignorant. Some of the later vignettes are more like true narratives (though still short). These are more sensible, but also less beautiful. Whether realistic or magical or mythical, no matter my degree of understanding, the vignettes are uniformly sad. There is an unrelenting sense of loss. I can only hope this does not reflect the reality of the life of author or the people about whom he writes.

[Edna Pontellier · Rating 3 out of 5]

These gauzy, dreamlike stories felt more satisfying in the aggregate than they did individually. Recurring tones, themes, images, and problems bind the collection together: characters confined to strange rooms or other unfamiliar spaces without knowing how they got there; characters searching for missing or mysterious women; characters being pursued or hunted; threatening guards, sentinels, and soldiers; menacing birds; bulls; ants; doors that don't open; colonial violence against indigenous people, and indigenous acts of revenge against oppressors; colonial destruction of the natural world (perhaps most notably, the razing of a bamboo forest that "produces nothing" to make room for "coffee plants, nothing but coffee plants"). These stories seem to take place outside of time; modern amenities are occasionally referenced, but the stories' haunting, spiritually-charged settings, life-or-death conflicts, and magical realist twists lend them a timeless, even ancient quality.

I appreciated the way these stories emphasized setting and mood over "traditional" (Western) plot or character development, but sometimes their hazy vagueness kept me from connecting emotionally.

[Leah Rachel von Essen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Red Ants by José Pergentino, translated by Thomas Bunstead, is the first book translated into English from the Sierra Zapotec, an indigenous Mexican language. It is a collection of fascinating, strange short fiction, small magical realist tales that leave you in a state of questioning and wonder.

Stories include "Bamboo Traces," a quiet story about obsession, and the supernatural story about visions and inheritance, "The Priestess of the Mountain." Eerie dark stories of being lost—"Room of Worms"—or of violence and fear—"Voice of the Firefly"—hit your psyche in sharp bursts. People are searching for people they seem to have misplaced; forests of bamboo are mazes, people are trapped, are spirits, are lost. Murkiness seems to follow the characters wherever they go. Sometimes the stories are simply visions, sometimes inaccessible, but the reader has to dive in and let Pergentino take them where he will. It will be worth it, not only for the eerie imagery, but for the lyrical language that will hit you with sudden, beautiful sentences.

Content warnings for animal death and cruelty, suicide, shooting, death, violence.

[Scott · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mostly, we think of contemporary Latin American literature as written either in Spanish or Portuguese. But there are lots of living indigenous language traditions that are producing literary works. This book is the first example of a translation from Zapotec to English. Pergentino José is from near Oaxaca, Mexico. The stories in the book remind me of Yuri Herrera's Signs Preceding the End of the World of Juan Rulfo's The Burning Plain and Other Stories. All have characters who are being controlled by forces more powerful than they are, forces about which they have little understanding. The customs the characters have used to navigate their lives have also broken down, so they are lost and finding a way forward difficult or impossible. The claustrophobia of Red Ants is amazing. I need to reread it.

[Tyrannosaurus regina · Rating 3 out of 5]

The phrase “fragment of a dream” is such a cliché, but it’s also apt when it comes to this collection of stories. Each one felt like a fragment of a dream, an isolated moment with a natural-feeling mingling the mythic or surreal and the concrete world, but also only a hazy sense beginning or ending.

However, that style also made each story feel incomplete, more of a portrait or a vignette than a story in and of itself. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, just a structural expectation I had that I needed to get past to get a full experience out of each piece. If I read it again I might get more out of it, but as it is I was left a bit unsatisfied.

I’m sure there are cultural connections that I am missing, but still I found the writing lovely, the themes thought-provoking, and a few of the pieces haunted me long after I read them.

[Mike · Rating 3 out of 5]

These are overall quite short. Most are a few pages, the longest is maybe 15. They're surreal, often atmospheric and moody. Magical realist, I guess? I don't know it wasn't quite the label I'd put there were it not on the back of the book. There's recurring themes of missing women. Men searching for lovers or children for mothers. Lots of them also wound up being chased down, for reasons that aren't always clear. None of this really hit for me. A lot of the stories I didn't understand well. I don't know. 3 seems high given those statements, but I don't think it is. I feel like the stories are good just maybe not my cup of tea.

[Charlotte Francesca · Rating 3 out of 5]

I feel very conflicted about this book and have begrudgingly given it 3 stars. It is so well written! The concepts are so interesting! There is a very fun David Lynch flavour to it all! But, every story feels like it ends just as it's beginning, which occasionally works really well, but normally just leaves you frustrated and unfulfilled. I wish this book was twice as long, with 2/3rds the amount of stories, so I could have properly been involved by the world's José creates, but alas not. Saying all that, I will eagerly await what else he publishes and would jump on the opportunity to read more of his weird, haunting writing.

[Sebastian Lee · Rating 5 out of 5]

Me gusta el realismo mágico que usa en cada uno de sus cuentos, alejado de las grandes urbes para pasar por selvas, fabricas y pueblos remotos, todos tienen esta aura de serenidad mezclada con una melancolía. Su estructura hace pareciera como si en una noche hubieses soñado todos estos y estos conformaran un gran sueño, con unos segmentos más memorables que otros.

Me dieron ganas de adaptar uno a cortometraje.

[Kirsten · Rating 4 out of 5]

Feels a little like I'm experiencing someone else's dream; I'm totally lost but also entranced. Reminding me of Michal Ajvaz, in tone if not form. // Update here at the end: these stories are definitely dreamlike in logic and narrative, separate but flowing into each other and thematically like one long story. I'm not going to remember any one chapter/story, but moments and imagery and the way they coalesce into a very memorable voice. Lovely.

[Simon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dreamy, surrealistic stories. Made me think of Kafka (then read that Pergentino considers him an influence). Elements specifically reference Oaxaca highland culture/politics - I missed that at first but the stories are clearly layered, troubling. Coming back to them after reading more about his background gives additional depth and emotion to them.

[Emily · Rating 3 out of 5]

My mediocre rating I feel is more related to my lack of cultural competency. It was hard to understand what was dream vs. Life. The storytelling itself followed a different pattern of storytelling than is understood in the west also. Some parts seemed to hit deep, but then shortly thereafter I was lost and confused. It was hard to derive the overall meanings of many stories.

[Matt Bashore · Rating 4 out of 5]

As much poetry as prose, this is not for your pedestrian reader. Like a series of dreams by one mind, -some related some not. So atmospheric and haunting. I feel like I've been on a journey somewhere beyond reality.

[Beth · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm thrilled to see an English translation of a Zapotec-language book but most of these stories felt impenetrable to me and largely indistinguishable from one another. The foreboding and otherworldy mood—reminiscent of Pedro Páramo—will stay with me, but the content of the stories probably won’t.

[William G. Marin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ta padre la vibra, pero ningun cuento se me quedó particularmente
De hecho son algo repetitivos, al grado que me confundía porq no sabia si estaban conectados o no
It ok, esta chido que integra zapoteco y elementos culturales de los pueblos originarios de las oaxacas