From God to Dog
Neida Juarez | April 2019
Xochimilco, 1999. My family, and I, barely out of the womb, sticking my head out to be in the frame, stand in front of several trajineras. The vibrant and heavily ornamented trajineras, (sort of like a family-sized party boat/gondola but less white and with mariachis), La “Laurita” and “Viva Lupita”, in the background, are contrasted by baggy blue jeans and my sister’s teen angst. This is the only memory I have of our trip to Xochimilco, in form of a photograph, and I have not been there since. None of us knew then that we were amongst an Aztec god, Xolotl.
Aztec myth has it that Xolotl, the god of fire, monsters, misfortune, deformities, and most frightening of all, twins, would sometimes take the form of a dog’s head with reverse feet and empty eye sockets. According to mythology in the Florentine Codex, a 16th-century ethnographic research study, creation of the present world needed a moving sun for humanity to begin. The Aztec gods began to sacrifice themselves, being slayed by Ehecatl, the god of wind, to bring about movement in the sun. Xolotl would not partake in this ceremony, taking refugee instead, transforming himself into a doubled maguey plant (Agave americana), a young maize plant with two stalks (Zea mays), and the amphibian axolotl (Ambystoma mexicanum). This emphasis on duality, mirrored in the maize and maguey plants Xolotl transformed himself into, can also be seen in the contemporary axolotl, critically endangered in their natural habitat but successfully bred in laboratories for research and commercial sale as pets.
Axolotl translates to “water-dog”, from the Aztec language Nahuatl. This salamander however resembles no dog I have ever seen. Commonly referred to as the “walking-fish”, the axolotl has stumpy legs and typically falls within one of four variations: wild, which are mostly black; albino, white with red eyes; leucistic, white with black eyes; and melanoid, a splotchy brownish black. This salamander is unlike most as it does not undergo a metamorphosis, it is paedomorphic, that is they retain larval traits as adults. These traits include external gills that look like little branches coming out of their head and tail fins. The axolotls’ ancestor, metamorphic tiger salamander, are thought to have colonized several lake systems that came about from geological changes in central Mexico. This is where paedomorphic development evolved in this species. However, what most find interesting, especially researchers in development and evolutionary biology, is the seemingly transformative god-like power the axolotl has of regeneration.
The axolotl has been cultivated in the laboratory since 1864; for 255 years this species has undergone the knife for research on nuclear reprogramming, the retinal neuron processing and regeneration, and the embryology of germ-cell induction. The axolotl continues to be researched in hopes of mimicking their limbs’ surviving cells for regrowing human limbs or even to create everlasting youth in a bottle. This centuries long interest seems to be selfishly placed, as numerous unethical practices have been taking place on the bodies of the axolotl. From breaking spines to cutting heads and placing them on other axolotl. Despite the fascination of the axolotl by aquatic aficionados, aFISHionados if you will, and similar interest and investment within scientific communities, hope and interest has seemed to be lost towards wild populations.
In this Aztec myth, Xolotl could not escape Ehecatl, ultimately captured and killed to bring about the new world of humans and civilization. The axolotl is facing a similar fate, despite their highly regenerative bodies. According to the IUCN Red List, the axolotl are critically endangered mostly due to anthropogenic threats to their habitat. Endemic to the canals of Xochimilco in Mexico, the axolotl live completely underwater and require deep-water lakes with abundant aquatic vegetation to lay eggs in as well as to feed on mollusks, crustaceans, insect larvae, worms, and some fish. After the fall of the Aztec empire, that created canal systems, a habitat where the axolotl thrived in, Xochimilco was met with subtle deterioration over time until Mexico’s tripling population size from 1950-1975. This rapid increase placed a large strain on the water supply, Xochimilco no longer receiving inputs from springs and rivers. The little water that remains here has become polluted by agricultural chemicals. In 1998, the density of axolotls was 6000 per square kilometer. Ten years later it was 100 per square kilometer. The decline in water quality, urbanization, overpopulation of invasive species that predate on the most vulnerable; the eggs and juveniles, and continuing decline in the extent and overall quality of their habitat have decreased populations severely.
The Mexican government, both federal and local, have enacted hard to implement plans to improve Xochimilco’s ecosystem while supporting construction of highways over the wetlands. Although research on the importance of urban wetlands is extensive, long-term action in part by the government is not being prioritized, reflecting similar disconnects around the globe. The fascination with a species for what they can do for us is not a unique story to the axolotl, but it is all too familiar to this species. In Aztec myth, dogs were portrayed in a negative light, viewed as sinister and associated with death. This “water-dog”, although not viewed as sinister, are already becoming associated with death as their populations in the wild continue to drastically decline.
Like the axolotl, I am also Mexican, but I cannot regrow a limb. My ancestors are the Nahua of central and southern Mexico, derived from the Aztec that built those very canals that the axolotl called home. The axolotl were so ingrained in the lives of the Aztec that a creation story about their lived realities included the axolotl as a key character, a sign of transformation and regeneration. I am in awe knowing that my ancestors experienced sharing a home with such an enigmatic creature. I still call Mexico home but the axolotl no longer do. A home is where you are cared for and nurtured by those around you, where you are safe and healthy, the axolotl has been deprived of this.
Neida Juarez | April 2019
Xochimilco, 1999. My family, and I, barely out of the womb, sticking my head out to be in the frame, stand in front of several trajineras. The vibrant and heavily ornamented trajineras, (sort of like a family-sized party boat/gondola but less white and with mariachis), La “Laurita” and “Viva Lupita”, in the background, are contrasted by baggy blue jeans and my sister’s teen angst. This is the only memory I have of our trip to Xochimilco, in form of a photograph, and I have not been there since. None of us knew then that we were amongst an Aztec god, Xolotl.
Aztec myth has it that Xolotl, the god of fire, monsters, misfortune, deformities, and most frightening of all, twins, would sometimes take the form of a dog’s head with reverse feet and empty eye sockets. According to mythology in the Florentine Codex, a 16th-century ethnographic research study, creation of the present world needed a moving sun for humanity to begin. The Aztec gods began to sacrifice themselves, being slayed by Ehecatl, the god of wind, to bring about movement in the sun. Xolotl would not partake in this ceremony, taking refugee instead, transforming himself into a doubled maguey plant (Agave americana), a young maize plant with two stalks (Zea mays), and the amphibian axolotl (Ambystoma mexicanum). This emphasis on duality, mirrored in the maize and maguey plants Xolotl transformed himself into, can also be seen in the contemporary axolotl, critically endangered in their natural habitat but successfully bred in laboratories for research and commercial sale as pets.
Axolotl translates to “water-dog”, from the Aztec language Nahuatl. This salamander however resembles no dog I have ever seen. Commonly referred to as the “walking-fish”, the axolotl has stumpy legs and typically falls within one of four variations: wild, which are mostly black; albino, white with red eyes; leucistic, white with black eyes; and melanoid, a splotchy brownish black. This salamander is unlike most as it does not undergo a metamorphosis, it is paedomorphic, that is they retain larval traits as adults. These traits include external gills that look like little branches coming out of their head and tail fins. The axolotls’ ancestor, metamorphic tiger salamander, are thought to have colonized several lake systems that came about from geological changes in central Mexico. This is where paedomorphic development evolved in this species. However, what most find interesting, especially researchers in development and evolutionary biology, is the seemingly transformative god-like power the axolotl has of regeneration.
The axolotl has been cultivated in the laboratory since 1864; for 255 years this species has undergone the knife for research on nuclear reprogramming, the retinal neuron processing and regeneration, and the embryology of germ-cell induction. The axolotl continues to be researched in hopes of mimicking their limbs’ surviving cells for regrowing human limbs or even to create everlasting youth in a bottle. This centuries long interest seems to be selfishly placed, as numerous unethical practices have been taking place on the bodies of the axolotl. From breaking spines to cutting heads and placing them on other axolotl. Despite the fascination of the axolotl by aquatic aficionados, aFISHionados if you will, and similar interest and investment within scientific communities, hope and interest has seemed to be lost towards wild populations.
In this Aztec myth, Xolotl could not escape Ehecatl, ultimately captured and killed to bring about the new world of humans and civilization. The axolotl is facing a similar fate, despite their highly regenerative bodies. According to the IUCN Red List, the axolotl are critically endangered mostly due to anthropogenic threats to their habitat. Endemic to the canals of Xochimilco in Mexico, the axolotl live completely underwater and require deep-water lakes with abundant aquatic vegetation to lay eggs in as well as to feed on mollusks, crustaceans, insect larvae, worms, and some fish. After the fall of the Aztec empire, that created canal systems, a habitat where the axolotl thrived in, Xochimilco was met with subtle deterioration over time until Mexico’s tripling population size from 1950-1975. This rapid increase placed a large strain on the water supply, Xochimilco no longer receiving inputs from springs and rivers. The little water that remains here has become polluted by agricultural chemicals. In 1998, the density of axolotls was 6000 per square kilometer. Ten years later it was 100 per square kilometer. The decline in water quality, urbanization, overpopulation of invasive species that predate on the most vulnerable; the eggs and juveniles, and continuing decline in the extent and overall quality of their habitat have decreased populations severely.
The Mexican government, both federal and local, have enacted hard to implement plans to improve Xochimilco’s ecosystem while supporting construction of highways over the wetlands. Although research on the importance of urban wetlands is extensive, long-term action in part by the government is not being prioritized, reflecting similar disconnects around the globe. The fascination with a species for what they can do for us is not a unique story to the axolotl, but it is all too familiar to this species. In Aztec myth, dogs were portrayed in a negative light, viewed as sinister and associated with death. This “water-dog”, although not viewed as sinister, are already becoming associated with death as their populations in the wild continue to drastically decline.
Like the axolotl, I am also Mexican, but I cannot regrow a limb. My ancestors are the Nahua of central and southern Mexico, derived from the Aztec that built those very canals that the axolotl called home. The axolotl were so ingrained in the lives of the Aztec that a creation story about their lived realities included the axolotl as a key character, a sign of transformation and regeneration. I am in awe knowing that my ancestors experienced sharing a home with such an enigmatic creature. I still call Mexico home but the axolotl no longer do. A home is where you are cared for and nurtured by those around you, where you are safe and healthy, the axolotl has been deprived of this.