I want to preface this by saying I do not enjoy morbidity or anything macabre…I avoid horror movies like the plague and I really don't care for scary costumes on Halloween and my children have never been allowed to don the traditional witch, vampire or ghost costumes so it has taken me a good number of years to work toward having any interest in
Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), which is one of Mexico 's most unique and widely celebrated holidays. In fact, people come from all over the world to experience Day of the Dead in Mexico .
From the outside looking in, Mexico's
Dia de los Muertos appears to be all of those things that I just described having an aversion to.
But after 10 years of living here in the Lake Chapala and Ajijic area of Mexico, I felt the pressure to at least know enough about it to be able to have an intelligent conversation with my curious friends from North of the Border so I caved-in and decided to see what this was all about from a purely scholarly perspective. I left my pre-conceived ideas and judgments at home and brought my husband, three kids and a camera to the cemetery in Ajijic and prepared to be a spectator.
In order to do this "right," we were told we needed to participate in both
Dia de los Inocentes (for the babies and children who have died) and the following day, which was Day of the Dead. Like most things, Mexicans don't do anything half-way! They have two days, back to back, to celebrate and remember their the friends and family who have passed.
When we arrived at the cemetery on
Dia de los Inocentes, we watched and even pitched in as families were cleaning the cemetery and decorating everywhere with candles, paper they had cut out (papel cortado which resembled colorful paper snowflakes) and fresh flowers. I was awestruck by the families there bringing food they had carefully prepared in lovely presentations and arranging their child's most beloved toys on top of the grave. Some had cradles made out of flowers or paper. One little boy's grave had his pictures, one in his soccer uniform, others teasing his sisters and a school photo. They had all his favorite things laid out: M & M's, pizza, Fritos, an Elmo doll, and his soccer uniform and his little shoes. Judging from the pictures, he was probably about seven years old when he died. A lump the size of Texas swelled in my throat. Oh, the pain and grief this family must have endured…Must still be enduring!
I was beginning to understand that this was not about being macabre or morbid. This was a genuine, heartfelt remembrance. Families reminisced by the graves and laughed as they brushed away tears while sharing funny stories about their children they had lost. As a mother, this struck a deep chord within me. It seemed to be a place and a time to actively remember how these people we have lost have touched our lives and honor them and their memory while still being philosophical and even-joyful!
It was really beautiful watching the families cleaning the area and remembering the ones who passed on. Looking at the graves it felt as if you could discern their personalities when they were alive. Teddy bears and lit candles at night in the cemetery sound creepy, but it was just so beautiful.
A tidbit I found rathe r interesting was that families placed rosaries around their (living) babies' necks (who haven't been baptized yet) and the babies were not allowed to touch the ground or sleep because they believe their souls can be snatched by the dead. As the parents leave the cemetery, they call their babies' names loudly so the baby's soul is sure to follow and not stay behind because they believe that the link between a baby's life here and that on the other side is still fragile.
Tomorrow is
Dia de Los Muertos and we're going back to the cemetery where there will be dances and ceremonies and prayers and more of the same except with the focus on the adults who have died. This is a pre-Hispanic ritual that dates back to the Mixtecas/Azteca/ Mayan Indians.
They make altars on three or seven levels. The altars on three levels represent the past, present and future and the altars with seven levels represent the seven levels of Heaven. The most important element is the salt or ash cross at the bottom that represents north, south, east and west and is supposed to cleanse and purify the spirit when it comes to visit tomorrow night. Interestingly, this date ties in with pagan and Celtic rituals on the same day in other countries.
The Next Day…
DAY OF THE DEAD TEACHES ME SOMETHING ABOUT LIVING
We had to park several blocks away from the cemetery but it was fine because there were so many people all working their way down the cobbled streets bringing flowers, bedding and food. It seemed like the cemetery was an enormous magnet drawing the entire town there. Some gringos stood in their doorways looking puzzled or even alarmed. Yeah, I know that Day of the Dead is a very strange custom for those of us who are from North of the border. I had serious doubts of my own about this seemingly gruesome holiday. But I was determined to ride it out and try to experience the whole thing-everything except spending the night, which was just not going to happen this time!
Joel and I brought the kids and we met up with a few other brave gringos as we meandered our way to the graveyard in Ajijic. Along the way were stands selling roasted chick-peas (I'm told these are very similar to boiled peanuts in the southern United States) and real kettle-fried potato chips, tamales, fresh fruit and spiraled churros frying in kettles of oil later to be dredged in cinnamon and sugar.
At the end of the road, a dead-end-pardon the pun- there was a stage set up with chairs in front. Soon the ballet folkloric dancers, which were all children between the ages of about seven and 14, gathered and began their traditional dances. In the beginning the dances were very Indian. But as the dances transpired, they became more Mexican with full colorful skirts with ribbons at the hem swishing and twirling, and some even had music that had a decided Texan influence with the children dressed in denim and cowboy hats. I found out later these were dances of the Baja region of Mexico .
Later in the evening when the sun went down, there were some pretty scary characters dressed as dead people and skeletons and angels and demons wandering around silent in the audience depicting how all these spirits are believed to walk among us. This was pretty darn creepy given that they weren't interacting with us but just walking around stone-faced.
After the ceremony of the celebration dances outside the gate, we filed into the cemetery. It was a hushed procession and the cemetery was splashed with fusions of colorful flowers and ablaze with candles in cross patterns over and around the graves, where the families had been working since dawn and the day before in order to be ready to receive the spirits of their loved ones when the veil between this world and the next is supposed to be the thinnest.
This time families brought cots to sleep on and were setting up camp around their loved ones' graves.
There were several musical groups playing. One was a mariachi group which was very lively, and made me want to dance. They were passing out beers and looking forward to remembering and celebrating their family member who was also a musician when he was alive. There were other bands there, but this group was my favorite and apparently I wasn't alone in my admiration of the mariachi players.
One old gringa's grave simply said "Bring on the Mariachis!" I want that on my grave! It was interesting to me that there were people buried in the cemetery in Ajijic that were clearly not Mexican and most of those graves were also decorated and clean. However, the lady who had "Bring on the Mariachis!" on her grave had nothing. I think it would be a lovely idea to adopt her grave for next year. I wish I could find out more about her.
I began clicking pictures left and right and found I was picking up orbs in in a few of them. Some pictures had no orbs. Some had so many the y were in layers and made the picture look cloudy. I don't know what exactly the orbs are, but I know some people subscribe to the idea that they are pictures of spirits. Joel, my husband, thought they were just dust on the lens of the camera so we cleaned the lens. Still orbs. So he thought it had to be light refracting off of water or dust. But it wasn't humid. Joel threw some dust in the air and we photographed that but it turned out as very sharp little sparks in the air and not the soft rounded orbs of varying sizes and brightness. Some weren't even perfectly round which seems to dispel the theory that they were water in the air. In any case, it made for a very interesting time and a cool set of photos that had some amazing orbs.
Oh, and that mariachi band I liked? Well, if those orbs were in fact spirits then they really liked that group, too, because there were dozens hovering around them. The other groups had just a few. Maya said she didn't want any orbs near her and, believe it or not, there were none in the photos of her. However, other children had quite a few. I also noticed that as the night wore on that there were more and more orbs.
After eating roasted chick peas, fresh, flaky pastries and chocolate, and washing it all down with cold, dark beer, we headed home- the others stayed behind to spend the night hanging out with the dead and partying.
Mexicans have found a way for each of the people who have touched their lives to have their own "book" written about them…passed down through the generations of family members who are devoted to remembering them through their shared memories. What a gift to their younger generations! What a tender and joyful people! I'm amazed at their ability to laugh at life and death alike and take it so much in stride as simply a part of life. Another excuse to have a party? You bet! As if Mexicans need any excuse! But I have never in my life been as touched and changed by Mexico's customs as the night we spent with them in the graveyard in Ajijic.
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