The stars were out, the night was chilly, and all was dark. Our bus pulled into Tzintzuntzan, Mexico, where we joined the hordes of other tourists visiting cemeteries. The smell of burning candles and fragrant flowers strengthened as we neared the entrance.
Tuesday was the first day of the Mexican holiday D+â-â-¡a de los Muertos, Day of the Dead. On this night, Mexicans celebrate Noche de los Muertos, Night of the Dead. Each year on this night, families welcome the return of the souls of their deceased loved ones with intricate altars and abundant offerings. In the middle of the cemetery in Tzintzuntzan, I leaned down to talk to a woman sitting next to an altar. It is important to note this holiday is a time to celebrate the lives of loved ones, not a time to grieve for them.
The holiday coincides with the Catholic church's All Saints Day, celebrated on Nov. 1, and All Souls Day, celebrated on Nov. 2. The first day is reserved to celebrate children, so it's called D+â-â-¡a de los Angelitos, and the second day is to celebrate all of the deceased. Traditions for celebrating the holiday vary, and some Mexicans don't celebrate at all; but for those who do, it's an important event.
Dia De Los Muertos in Morelia, Mexico
The traditional celebration involves families returning to the grave sites of their loved ones to clean them up and create altars, which are decorated with candles and flowers called cempas+â-â-¦chiles, which are similar to marigolds. They also leave offerings for the loved ones' returns, such as fruit, bread, tamales, toys and alcohol+â-¡-things their loved ones enjoyed in life. The families also share a picnic and talk by the grave sites, staying there all through the night.
Another tradition is the skeletons made of sugar, which Mexicans decorate and write the names of their loved ones across the skeleton foreheads.
I could say this seems odd-and even a little eerie-that people celebrate death with skeletons made of sugar and chocolate, as well as sugar-coated candy coffins and skeleton dolls. However, thanks to my previous Spanish courses, I was aware of this widely celebrated holiday in advance, and I have been excited to experience it firsthand.
My Mexican family lost a son last year from cancer. For this holiday, sitting on an enormous wall of shelves are photos of him, some of his toys, whiskey and pan de muerto - a special type of bread offered in celebrations during this holiday. Beautifully scattered around, she has flowers in vases, but they are not the traditional kind seen on the indigenous altars we saw in the cemeteries.
The altars in the cemeteries ranged from extravagant to almost nothing and it broke my heart to see the graves which appeared abandoned. But even more so, the disrespect of many tourists bothered me. One man leaned over an altar candle to light a cigarette as he chatted with his pals. Others seemed solely interested in photos or video, rather than appreciating the cultural dedication of this celebration.
As with the commercialization of many holidays, outside of the indigenous community, this celebration seems to have fallen in the trap. While I stepped cautiously between the graves so as not to disrupt the altars, a man waved his glow wands about for sale as if he were at a county fair.
However, within the faces of the people celebrating that night, in our friendly conversation and the delicacy with which they constructed their altars, I saw the true meaning of D+â-â-¡a de los Muertos.
Write to Michelle at
mllong2@bsu.edu