Sunday, November 3, 2013

Day of the Dead


Sometimes I think that globalization is watering down the traditions and customs of countries but there is a Mexican one that I've adopted and whether I'm living in Mexico or Texas, it is one that I plan to keep. It is Day of the Dead.

These days in Mexico it is getting commercialized with a sort of Halloween adaptation on October 31, with Calaca Festivals and Catrina parades on November 1 and 2. What kid wouldn't want to dress up and collect candy on Halloween. I understand the business community promoting events that will bring people into town to eat in restaurants and stay in hotels. The Day of the Dead I'm talking about is what happens in homes and with families.

About dark on November 1, I was walking into town. A door was partially open and I could see a small altar with candles, food and marigolds and even marigold petals sprinkled across the floor toward the door. Around the walls sat family members having a drink and talking. No doubt they were remembering loved ones.

On November 2, I went with some friends out in the campo, way out in the campo to a cemetery. We had to park on the road and walked about 1/2 mile on a rutted road with big potholes filled with the rain from the night before. There was one truck stuck in the mud and evidence that a few others had gunned the motor to escape other potholes. As we neared the cemetery vendors had set up stands to sell flowers, candles and food. Rancho dogs scooted in between the potholes and people to scrounge for tidbits accidentally dropped.

I took a deep breath when we walked through the gate of the cemetery. It was packed with people. It was so beautiful. Many families had turned the dirt on the grave so that it looked like it was a new grave. And flowers, not just marigolds but flowers of every kind and color from cosmos picked in the campo to stems of red gladiolas bought at a shop. Flowers in empty jalapeno cans and plastic bottles, huge round wreaths and even flowers stuck in the freshly turned earth.

Some family groups were visiting but most were gradually moving toward the far end of the cemetery where that was a three sided shed. They were waiting for the priest to arrive and for the Mass to begin.

Last year I had a large altar for Ned. This year was a little smaller. I decorated it with flowers, candles and some of my favorite pictures of him. Of course, I had red wine, his favorite tequila and Presidente Brandy. AND the biggest Snickers I could find. Many Mexicans believe that the spirit of the person comes back to visit during Day of the Dead. I think I always feel him by and a part of me but Day of the Dead is such a wonderful way to remember him and celebrate his life.

The picture? I made it in the campo cemetery. At one grave site there were two kind of raggedy dressed men. They seemed to be alone and not a part of any family group. One had white hair and he was stooped. He was turning the earth of the grave. The other, younger, the man you see above. He was putting flowers on the grave. Was this the grave of the wife and mother? I was touched. And it is another one of those times when, if I were a writer, there is a story to be written.

10 comments:

  1. Our public Day of the Dead ceremonies in Melaque have taken on a rather silly character. Lots of American rock music. Dancing zombies. That kind of thing. But the real tradition continues behind closed doors in homes. I am certain Ned appreciates the continued love.

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    1. Steve, I do hope that the tradition continues on behind the closed doors because it is such a lovely way to remember and reconnect with our loved ones who have left us. I know it will continue on in mi casa.

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    2. Hate to sound like an old grouch, but just in the seven years we've lived in San Miguel the Day of the Dead celebrations seem to be more and more commercialized and tourist-ized. So it was good to go to the campo with you and see the real Day of the Dead.

      al

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  2. The photo of the man captures such an intense feeling -- very touching.

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    1. Thank you Andean. It was such a tender moment from a man who looked like he had a very hard life.

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  3. very nice. you a writer than and if you wont give yourself credit, I will!

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    1. Oh, I think I can write a blog but then I read a few of my friends blogs who really know how to write and I feel most inadequate. And to think of writing a short story and weave all the pieces together....
      Then I know I'm not really a writer. But there are these stories dancing around some of my photographs. I think I should just let my readers use their own imagination and write their own story.

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  4. You have verbalized my feelings exactly. I'm distressed at the turn things have taken here in SMA.
    I have a daily altar for Jennifer beside my bed. If I don't put fresh flowers there from the garden, Josefina arrives with flowers she has picked on her way to the house. It always makes my throat choke with emotion when she does so. Thanks for a beautiful post.

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  5. Babs, I like your daily altar idea. It just feels so right to have something we see or do everyday that connects us with our loved ones who are no longer with us on earth.

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  6. Your post and the comments of your readers leads me to think that the old ways will not disappear. All beautifully expressed...

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