A uniquely Oaxaca expression of the Christmas season is the Noche de Rabanos (Night of the Radishes) on the evening of December 23rd, an evening in which the zocalo becomes the scene of a huge exhibition of figures sculpted from radishes. Often these figures are in scenes of the birth of Jesus or other scenes expressing the history and culture of Oaxacans. A contest is held with everyone vying for the first prize and having their picture in the morning paper.

Extremely large radishes are carved into elaborate scenes and figures and placed on display around the Zócalo, along with scenes of figures in the “flor inmortal” (immortal flower: brightly colored, dried straw flowers) and “totomoxtle” (corn husks). The radishes used are heavy, long ones, seemingly without grace, but you will be amazed, for instance, to see the skirt of a dancing figure fashioned out of just the red peel and perforated like eyelet lace. The Zócalo has a radiant canopy of Christmas lights, and in the late afternoon of the 23rd, crowds of townsfolk and tourists begin to flow into the central square, apparently from nowhere. They patiently form cues to pass slowly in front of the competitors’ stands that have been erected all around the zócalo.

Radish figures of festival theme

Corn husk figures of the posada of the
Virgin of Solitude

The viewing continues all evening with everyone enjoying the occasion — the interesting exhibits and the ingenuity shown in their creation, the Christmas lights, and the company of others. Enjoyment of life in tranquility and good fellowship is the spirit of the night.

You'll find religious tableaux, village scenes, historical events, mythical tales --- subjects of art you might find around the world. But these themes are expressed in carved radishes!

For the annual Night of the Radishes, the humble plants are transformed into saints and conquistadors, the infant Jesus and Virgin Mary. There are animals, dancers, even the revolutionary hero Emiliano Zapata. Once these master radish-artists have finished with their carving, any thoughts of supper have vanished.

These are not the little round radishes we enjoy in a salad. These blank canvases, ready for artistic expression, are long, thick skinned, and grow up to two feet in length and weigh as much as five to 10 pounds. Its contorted shape and twisted roots start the creative juices flowing; the shape suggesting the possibilities for subject matter. While the birth of this unique Oaxacan festival is unclear, researchers do know that in the 19th century, Christmas Eve markets sold salted dried fish and a variety of vegetables for the family dinner after midnight mass. To distinguish themselves from others, vendors sculpted radish figures; embellishing them with turnips, onions, lettuce and flowers. Housewives sought out the most interesting for their Christmas Eve tables. In 1897, the mayor of Oaxaca inaugurated the first exhibition of radish art and, as they say, the rest is history. Each year, the best displays receive cash prizes and quite a bit of village notoriety.

Three days before the festival, artists begin carving their freshly dug radishes, spraying them constantly with water to maintain freshness. On the big day of December 23rd, activities get under way with a children’s workshop, where youngsters take knife to radish with painstaking seriousness - trying to reproduce what they have seen in their homes.

Two popular themes of the Radish competion: Nacimiento (nativity scene) and the Guelaguetza

By mid-afternoon, the zocalo bustles as contestants set up their wooden tables some covered with oil cloth and often topped by three-sided frames to set off the radish tableaux. Dried grass, leaves, corn husks and dried flowers decorate the simple settings. Carefully packed boxes are opened to reveal dozens of radish churches, homes, trees, folks of all types and four-legged characters. This is a family affair and each member struggles to get every detail just right. Meanwhile, tourists roam the square, snapping pictures like radish paparazzi. The outdoor cafes surrounding the zocalo are jam packed with people enjoying food and drinks and mostly the festive atmosphere. Children pummel each other (and the occasional bystander) with hollowed out eggs filled with confetti.

As the sun sets, the exhibition officially opens and a single-file line forms as viewers pass slowly before each lighted display with much delight. After a few hours, it’s all over. Prizes are awarded, scenes are packed up and everyone wanders off to dinner or to check out the wares of the numerous vendors who have set up their shops in the alameda in front of the cathedral. A fireworks display signals time to call it a night - for some.