Día de Muertos. Two years ago I had the pleasure of living in Mexico City during the 1st of November which oversees the celebration of Dia De Los Muertos. An odd and perceptively dark celebration to outsiders. It is a tradition that can be traced back to the very first indigenous people that originally occupied Mexico City, better known then as Tenochtitlan, some 3,000 years ago.
The second largest city in the world completely shuts down. It’s compacted 8.8 million residences flock first to cemeteries to pay respect, then to large public celebrations in literally all imaginable locations and corners of the 573 square mile federal district. The gatherings have huge offrendas or offerings/alter which are made with colorful skulls, religious objects, bright Marigold flowers, and baskets that are to be decorated and filled with the earthly enjoyments of the person that you have chosen to celebrate that particular year. The belief is that the gifts in the basket will coax their late loved ones to come down (or up in all fairness) to earth for one special night to enjoy a moment together. The subject matter of death fuels the occasion but laughs are as present as good music and food. Either I truly became a sap for the Dia de los Muertos event or the tequila had really positively affected my night, no way to know now. Isn’t that always the case?
Stumbling through the mass crowd of smiling faces I realize that Dia de los Muertos is less for the muertos as it is for the vivos – the living. Death is a bastard that we will all someday meet, how and when can cause us to live with rational fears that, for many, can rob the experiences of life. Better yet, in the face of our inevitable doom we choose to dance, laugh, and eat tamales. We celebrate those who have come and gone before us out of respect, and perhaps to remember that someday we too will cease to exist, and in that moment, maybe someone will leave a basket in Tenochtitlan with an MGD just for you.
Is it odd? A little bit… But if there is a better way to deal with death and our inescapable fate, then I’ll show you a Mexican who doesn’t like to have a good time.
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