Exploring the Zapotec Community: The Strength of Mutual Support

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Exploring the Zapotec Community: The Strength of Mutual Support

I find myself in a quaint kitchen of a Zapotec village in the Sierra Norte of Mexico, watching as a mother from the indigenous Oaxaca community skillfully prepares tortillas from the corn grown in the surrounding land. Violetta's hands dance rhythmically as she kneads the dough, the lines on her palms telling a story of generations past who have made this very dish.

This is day two of my five-day trekking adventure with Intrepid through the highlands of Oaxaca. My small group is journeying from village to village, discovering how this community thrives today. The earth sinks beneath my feet in Violetta's home, the air thick with the scent of soil and wood smoke. A single light bulb hangs from a beam, illuminating Violetta's hands as she works. The simple one-room house may seem modest, but here in the mountains, wealth is measured not by possessions, but by sustainability—skills, food, and connection.

The Power of Support

Our guide, Jonatan, a Zapotec himself, shares stories and local knowledge as we walk. This journey is not just about traversing the landscape; we move in harmony with it, learning about medicinal plants, the crops the Zapotecs cultivate, and how the land is farmed. “We share our work, our joys, and our sorrows. We share everything,” Jonatan says over a morning coffee before we set off on our next leg. “We take care of each other.”

The communities operate as interconnected entities. They have a reciprocal relationship not only with the land but also with one another. Simply put, their community thrives on the mindset of “I help you, you help me.” This collectivism is a profound concept for me, coming from a country that often celebrates individualism. Jonatan explains the sharing of labor: “If you need to plant corn and I also need to plant corn, I will help you first, then you will help me.” Joys and sorrows belong to the whole community—when someone marries, everyone attends. When someone passes away, everyone visits, bringing beans, sugar, coffee, or even a chicken to the grieving family.

A Land of the Soul

Often, when travelers visit this part of Mexico, they only stay in the city of Oaxaca. It's much easier to follow guidebook recommendations. However, few mention these remote villages hidden in the mountains. I am part of an eco-tourism project called Pueblos Mancomunados, meaning “Communities of Villages,” which comprises eight remote villages under a shared initiative. These communities have grown together for over 400 years, but it wasn’t until 1998 that they began welcoming visitors to share their paths and invite them into their homes to showcase how they live and why.

I feel incredibly fortunate to have Jonatan by my side every step of the way. One morning, I asked him about Pueblos Mancomunados and what they hope visitors will take away from this experience. His answer was simple: “The soul of this place.”

Community - A Precious Asset

In many parts of the world, wealth is often seen as accumulation—more money, more possessions, more efficiency. But in these mountains, wealth lies not in ownership, but in relationships. The soul of this place is rooted in mutual support and community. As we walk through pine forests, fields, and beside towering agave plants, I realize the importance of these connections.

The mushrooms Jonatan forages, the strength of the plants, the healing properties of the trees… The land is not merely something to extract from; it is also a place to learn. “In the city, your land only goes this far,” Jonatan says, extending his hand to indicate a boundary. “My land stretches as far as the eye can see,” he continues, sweeping his arms wide as we turn to gaze at the fields and forests that blanket the distant hills.

Wealth of Time

The rain pours down on Mr. Eli's roof, yet we remain dry, content, and cozy, gathered together enjoying elote tea made from corn husks. His smile radiates warmth as he urges us to take our time, no need to rush off. I hear the sound of rain echoing from the house, feel the fresh air flowing through the doorway, and watch the family nestled together on the sofa, moving slowly and brewing tea on the stove. Time here flows differently.

In the U.S., we often feel pressed for time—caught up in clocks, schedules, and an obsession with chasing the next thing. We plan trips to escape our fast-paced lives. Here, the Zapotecs are rich in time. They possess a freedom that we seem to spend our lives pursuing—not the freedom to consume endlessly, but the freedom to live with intention. I realize that freedom is simply having what you need and enough time to cultivate, share meals, connect, and just exist. To wake with the sun, walk through the fields that provide food, and prioritize people over possessions.

A Foundation in Support

Jonatan's stories resonate in everything I see in each home we visit—a life not built around speed or accumulation, but around care. Each person's work is interconnected, with every hand, crop, and meal being part of a shared rhythm. As we walk to a village, Jonatan tells us about guelaguetza: the Zapotec principle of mutual aid or support. On our first morning together, he chuckled when he saw us frustrated at not finding a café open for our morning coffee.

Then, as we walked along the trail, he turned back and said he had a surprise. Looking around at the vast landscape with only homes and open fields, I couldn’t imagine what it could be. “Is it five more kilometers?” someone joked. Almost magically, he surprised us with coffee—not from a café, but from a home. Smoke billowed from the chimney, the aroma of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee wafted through the air. We stepped through a small curved door into a bustling stone house: Jonatan's family home. His uncle, Nelson, had been baking since morning, as he does every Friday, in an oven built by his grandfather. Jonatan's aunt poured us coffee—water, cinnamon, molasses, and sugarcane—and we shared bread together.

When you need something here, someone will provide it for you, and when they need something, you will respond. This way of life seems so obvious when you see it in action—this is how people should live.

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