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MEXICO
STORIES - DAY OF THE DEAD & ALL SAINTS DAY IN TAXCO
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All of
Mexico is famed for its Day of the Dead festivities. Living here in
Taxco, I must say that this is one of my favorites too.
The excitement begins about a week
before the holiday as
the market changes almost overnight. There are vendors selling candles
by the kilo. Others are selling handmade candies in animal shapes--some
are whole families sold in little baskets, a mother chicken and her pullets
all decorated with candy flowers. There are plastic ornamental skeletons
for your car and pop up skeletons for your desk. Special flowers are
raised for this occasion and they are piled up high everywhere; brilliant
orange
yellow marigolds large and small are our favorites. Tiny replicas of
the feast to come are also plentiful, each carrying the unique hand
of its
creator.
To see more of
these wonderful creations just click Here!) It
is not too late to make reservations from wherever you are to Mexico
to share
in the enjoyment and wonder of these marvelous
days. We hope
to see you here in Taxco at the Panteón, our local graveyard.
What follows is something I wrote to pique your interest in being with
us for this year’s celebration.
Visiting
the Panteón a few days ahead of the Day of the Dead already
a few people were there cleaning and painting their family grave
plots. Most of the plots were in disarray looking forlorn in the
hot
sun, blinding as it bounced back from the white painted stones. Many
of the grave markers were crudely hand painted with the words, "en
perpetuidad," in perpetuity. In just a day or so it would be
a very different place.
Today
the Panteón was magical, filled with people
who had spent hours of their time and lots of their meager money to
buy flowers and
candles and foods for their lost loved ones. They had twined flowers
through gratings, they had painted the stonework and bricks, they had
brought framed photos of the lost ones to hang and commemorate. Flowers
were arranged in every conceivable way, petals used to make a cross,
formal arrangements of roses in proper vases, bundles of marigolds of
all sizes and colors lain on the grave sites. And there were candles,
those recently lit and those that had burned for hours or even a few
days.
 Gifts
of food and liquor were placed as carefully as on a table for a guest.
This is the time to welcome back the spirits that have
left
us. It is done with such respect and regard as if the lost person
were actually coming to visit after a long absence.
Yet rarely is there
a
show
of emotional loss; that is reserved for the recently
dead and even then displays of emotions are restrained. Bands
of musicians are
hired to play a song for the spirits. Those that have paid for
the service
sometimes aren't even there at the time the band arrives, plays
the music, and leaves. It truly is a gift for the departed to enjoy.
Poor
women wander the site selling old cans to be used as vases. Others
sell water in old cans at five pesos or about 50 cents.
Outside of the
graveyard itself a festival atmosphere reigns. There are carnival
rides for the children, open air taquerías there for a few days
only and homes that open their patios furnished for the day with plastic
tables and chairs offering mole with chicken or a bit of the local
turkey called
guajolote.
The foreign
section of the main graveyard lies on the right side of the small
old church. There are several foreigners buried
here including
William Spratling who was buried against the wishes of those who had
paid for the plots in this separate section or so rumor has it. Flowers
had been laid on each of these plots as if someone had bought several
different types of flowers and divided them among the foreigners. There
was no art in the flower arrangements and there was none of the warm
caring or cariño so evident in other areas of the graveyard.
None of the foreign residents had left a legacy of warmth and regard,
though
someone still had enough respect to provide them with a little something.
It appeared that someone had been paid to do the job or perhaps someone
of poor means and little time had tried to honor these spirits.
Each year
when we go to the Panteón, we chat amiably
about what foods
we would bring for each other when the time comes. For my husband
Stasis, I would bring chocolate bread pudding with whipped cream and
a bottle of one of those 400 years old brandies. I will have lasagna
and a fine bottle of gin. We'll pay the forever fee and hope that we
have earned a fond place in the hearts of our friends here. We hope that
they will have music played and that they will bring flowers and candles
because we will for all time want to revisit this place we call home.
All
Text and Photos ©Copyright K. O'Donnell 2003
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All
Photographs Copyrighted by
©Kathleen H. O'Donnell '07 |
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