Dia de Los Muertos 2020

 San Antonio Tlayacapan, Jalisco, Mexico

Original Posada Catrina in Oaxaca (we're told)

Almost exactly 3 years ago, we moved to Mexico with a few suitcases and set up shop in San Antonio Tlayacapan, Jalisco. A couple of days after we arrived, we went to a class at LCS (the Lake Chapala Society, the main “gringo” organization here,) taught by Alfredo Perez Aldana, titled “Mock Death, will you!” We learned the story behind the now famous La Calavera Catrina, a cartoon drawn about 1910 by Jose Guadalupe Posada, poking fun at “cultured” Mexicans who were at the time adopting the culture and style of Europeans. La Catrina, or El Catrin (masculino) means “dandy,” and is not a name per se. One of the attributes of that adoption was to try to lighten the skin, making people look like skeletons. Interestingly, this desire for whiteness was also very prevalent in SE Asia, where girls spend small fortunes on skin whitening creams and avoid the sun at all costs. The irony of white people spending time and vacations trying to be “tanned” is rich.

2017 LCS ofrenda

We also learned in the class about the ofrenda, or offering, a sort of altar to honor family members who have passed and welcome them back as special guests. 

The ofrenda has several key components. Cempasuchitl flowers (marigolds), to guide the visiting souls to the ofrenda. Water and salt for the other-worldly visitors, as well as favorite foods and drinks, often mole and tequila, or pizza and soda for the kids. The sweet, orange-scented bread of the dead, is usual, as well as brightly painted sugar skulls (not edible, really.) Copal incense is lit to carry prayers to the heavens, and of course, photos of the departed. 

We have a slightly-Buddhist version in our Mexican home (wherever we are,) for our moms, with a small bell and incense, and we add the flower petals at this time of year. This year a full marigold plant!

Bali offerings on the steps

The tradition is very similar to Buddhist shrines in family homes, which are permanent, and the Hindu offerings put in front of most all homes and businesses on Bali every morning. There is an entire industry in Bali to make these tiny offerings of food and flowers, about 5” square on banana leaves.

 

Later that day after our class, we went to the plaza in Ajijic and painted our faces in the style of La Catrina, Linda’s more elegantly done than Mark’s, who ended up looking more like a Dali-esque nightmare than a Catrin. We then walked to the cemetery west of town and observed all the families at their loved ones’ graves. Candles, food, tequila, decorations, mariachis it was just like the scenes in Coco (the movie), or rather, the movie captured the look and feel perfectly.

 

Now THAT'S an ofrenda!

That was 2017. In 2018, we spent a month in Oaxaca, renowned for its Day of the Dead celebrations. People travel to Oaxaca from all over the world to observe and participate. The entire town is decorated with calaveras, sitting on ledges, and standing next to store doorways. There are ofrendas everywhere, private ones in homes and large ones in the plaza.

 

We signed on for a night tour of 3 different panteons (cemeteries,) 2 in the Oaxaca city limits, and one outside the city proper in a small town. The tour was interesting as the guide told us the history of each cemetery. The 2 in town were interesting but overrun with tourists (like us!). The one outside of town, however, was a whole different experience. The town was San Juan Etla, and the cemetery was much smaller. The graves themselves looked different, mostly small mounds of earth. The families were there in force, and very gracious to we “intruders.”  

What we love is that it is not just a sad event, there were mariachi bands, and families eating tamales together near their departed members, still involving them in the party. Beautiful. (We think the norteamericanos should adopt a similar practice…all that wasted park space in cemeteries!)

Now it is 2020, and with the coronavirus, Jalisco is currently (once again) in a semi-lockdown. The cemeteries are closed and locked. Families entered earlier in the week with their decorations and candles and left them for their departed family members. Last night, we walked to the one about 100 yards from our current casa, and it was heartbreaking to look through the locked gate and see the adornments, candles flickering, knowing this essential part of Mexican culture was being cancelled because of the virus.

Peeking through the gate

We are using this time to think of those who are no longer here, yet also to celebrate their lives, and how they can be near us in a way, still.  ....our dear ones as well as the many who have lost the battle with a new enemy, Covid. 

 2020 November 1