Día de Los Muertos

Yes, it's been a while since Día de Los Muertos, but I thought I'd share with you my experience of this interesting Latin American holiday. During Día de Los Muertos the people of Santa Cruz Del Quiché celebrated the lives of those who have died. I believe the tradition behind the celebration comes from the pagan belief that on the night of October 31st the spirits of the dead walk the earth. Festivities are a held that night in the town cemetery as well as the following night after All Saints Day. In the weeks leading up to the celebration, people paint the tombs of their families and adorn them with fresh flowers.

The evening of the 31st I went and played soccer with some coworkers. It was a popular night and the field was booked back to back. Afterwards I went to Estaban's mother's house and joined him and his wife for tomales. The cemetery was next. Several blocks of the road leading up to the cemetary were lined with vendors selling pizza and sweets. Families milled in and out in ambiance resembling the market.

The cemetary itself glowed with the light of many candles. It looked like a city in miniature with all the little mausolea. The "main street" went from the cemetery gates to a chapel where a people prayed and vigil was held. On one side of the path, a band played cheery traditional music and a hum of warm chatter hung in the air. We followed pathways through the maze of many small structures the place that held Esteban's family's remains. All along the way people lit candles and put fresh flowers on tombs. In some places there were nothing more than mounds of earth marking graves that were partially covered in what looked to me like plaster.

At one point a loud, jovial chanting drew me to a particular patch of earth where about thirty youths and number of bystanders stood scattered amidst burial mounds. Older boys and girls took turns leading call-and-response songs and chants. I asked Esteban who they were and he responded that they were scouts! Sure enough, I was able to pick out the familar "boom chicka rocka chicka rocka chicka boom" familiar from many a camping trip with Steven and Kathy!

There's something deeply reflective about missing one of your own holiday and experiencing one in it's place that belongs to another culture. You can know in a technical way that it is done differently elsewhere, but until you're right there in it, there's isn't much else that can bring home so deeply.