After an adventurous couple of weeks touring the Sierra Gorda, Lewis and I jumped on a bus in Jalpan and were Mexico City bound. There are many reasons we decided to take a bus rather than cycle to the City, but it still hurt a little to finally break our continuous line, one we have kept in tact since Las Vegas (well, except for a 50 mile bus break due to bike mal-function, but that was just a minor blip. Details, details).
We arrived in DF (a common short for Mexico, District Federal... kinda like saying "DC" for Washington, District of Columbia) on Satuday afternoon at the central bus terminal, which looks a lot like small but modern airport. Our host Ismael picked us up, thankfully, so we did not have to ride the 8 miles through unknown DF streets to his place in the center. Being one of the largest cities in the world (Wiki ranks it 7th largest in metro area, placing Tokyo 1st and New York 12th, for reference), we had heard some parts could be a nightmare to ride.
Ismael is somewhat of an old friend to Lewis, and was actually his first Couchsurfing host when Lewis visited Mexico back in 2006. Lewis jokes about how bad his Spanish was back then, and how bad was Ismael's English. Things have certainly improved on both sides, but just for fun Ismael has complicated matters by living in a home full of French transplants, including his girlfriend, so French is the dominant language of the house. With all of the languages flying around, I feel like I am back in NY!
We arrived in DF (a common short for Mexico, District Federal... kinda like saying "DC" for Washington, District of Columbia) on Satuday afternoon at the central bus terminal, which looks a lot like small but modern airport. Our host Ismael picked us up, thankfully, so we did not have to ride the 8 miles through unknown DF streets to his place in the center. Being one of the largest cities in the world (Wiki ranks it 7th largest in metro area, placing Tokyo 1st and New York 12th, for reference), we had heard some parts could be a nightmare to ride.
Ismael is somewhat of an old friend to Lewis, and was actually his first Couchsurfing host when Lewis visited Mexico back in 2006. Lewis jokes about how bad his Spanish was back then, and how bad was Ismael's English. Things have certainly improved on both sides, but just for fun Ismael has complicated matters by living in a home full of French transplants, including his girlfriend, so French is the dominant language of the house. With all of the languages flying around, I feel like I am back in NY!
Ismael invited us to join him on a family trip the following day, which happened to be el Dia de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead, a very traditional Mexican holiday that always falls on November 1 (and spills over into the 2nd as well). It is coincidentally located on the calendar right next to Halloween, though the two days are not at all related. There is a bit of Halloween celebration here in Mexico, but el Dia de los Muertos is the main event. We were hoping to do something on this important day but we hadn't figured out what (suggestions had been vague and contradictive), so we gladly accepted the invitation. The day started bright and early as we left for Ismael's parent's place in another part of the city at 7:30 am. In attendance were Lewis and I, Ismael and his parents, his girlfriend, another roommate, and the family chihuahua. We were worried at first that it would be odd to tag along as tourists to visit the graves of someone's dead relatives, but really it is a very inclusive holiday. Mexicans have a different attitude about death than we as Americans are accustomed to, and visiting cemeteries is not a solemn or private family affair, especially on the Day of the Dead. We have heard that in some towns it is common to find friends and family having a little fiesta with their dead relatives right in the cemetery, getting drunk in the process. We were warned not to cycle on November 1 and 2, because there would be many drunk drivers on the roads. As it worked out, we would not be cycling this day and we were made to feel very welcome by Ismael's generous parents. |
Piling into the giant family SUV, we hit the road for Puebla, a 2 hour drive from DF. I believe the first hour was spent just getting out of the city. We climbed a mountain, and in the valley on the other side was Puebla, the 4th largest city in Mexico. On the way we passed through an area where the traditional flowers of the Day of the Dead are grown, mainly cempazuchitl, or giant merigolds. A dozen or more piles of cut merigolds and other accent flowers lined the speedy highway about 10 meters apart from each other, each stationed with a man, woman, or family ready to sell. We pulled up along side one of these piles and the matron of the SUV made her selections. The trunk was filled to the ceiling, burying the little chihuahua in his carrier.
We arrived at the first cemetery in Puebla, which Ismael explained was the cemetery for the rich. It was very orderly and had many long lines of tombs, some of them multi-storied and with basements, where entire families could reside together in the afterlife. There were many graves and tombs decorated, and there were people walking about with flowers in arm, but it was generally more quiet than expected. We wandered the maze with about 1/3 of our flower load until we reached the modest grave we were visiting. After cleaning and clearing some old flowers, we began to decorate. Most graves are built with stone or cement vases included; this one had one at each corner. We stuffed each vase with flowers while a custodian trimmed the grass. Custodians, who may or may not be employed by the cemeteries, are abundant and one is always at hand to help you clean up the tomb, clear away any debris, water the flowers, and provide any other service you may need, for a tip. After the grass was trimmed and cleared, Madre arranged flower heads into the shape of a cross on the center. She said a prayer, and then we were off to the next cemetery to repeat the ritual.
The next cemetery was actually just a few blocks away and was explained to be for the more common man. It was still a very beautiful cemetery, with long avenues and great trees, but fewer elaborate tombs. It was also much more lively, with crowds of people filling the avenues and many more custodians tagging along hoping for a customer, as well as musicians. We passed by a complete Mariachi band dressed in white, serenading a grave for a family standing by. There were more flowers about, and children and even some adults were dressed in showy costume with faces painted like sculls. We stopped by the simple grave of Madre's 1st grade teacher and left a small bouquet. Then we visited another relative along the cemetery wall. We cleaned and decorated and Madre prayed, as with the first.
We exited this cemetery at a side gate and stepped into a regular street market. I am not sure if the market is always there on the weekends or if it was special for the holiday, but certainly it was booming on this day. There were many delicious looking foods that we haven't yet seen in Mexico, which got us excited to be in a new region. There were also carts selling donuts, candy, ice cream, toys, and other typical junk you find at street markets throughout Mexico. We walked the market back towards the cemetery's main entrance, where there were vendors selling merigolds and other flowers. Padre bought a small broom to brush the flower petals out of the car.
The third cemetery was in a small town outside of Puebla. This was probably my favorite one, as it was in a beautiful countryside setting, and had many interesting things to look at. A few more family members met us here and there were many hands to tend to the grave and the flowers, so I ducked out and explored a bit. A lot of graves had multiple rusty iron crosses overlapping each other, like each was a new addition at some point and was placed right next to the ones prior. Many graves were made of concrete and were broken or decayed to rubble. Some graves were merely plots of dirt, with a few tin cans half buried to be used as flower vases.
After the final grave was decorated with the remainder of our flowers, a guitarist came over to offer a song for the deceased. Padre made a request, I believe it was for a revolutionary song. After that he made another request, but this time Padre did the singing. He sang with a powerful voice that was wonderful to hear, and even the guitarist was impressed!
Having completed the cemetery visits, we drove to the neighboring state of Tlaxcala (much to Lewis's pleasure) to visit a friend of Madre's. It was a surprise visit, but the matron of the home was happy to have us. There was a trail of petals on the patio that lead through the front door an into a side room, where a table was set up as a shrine to her son, who had died in a car accident a few years before. Besides visiting cemeteries, it is a tradition on el Dia de los Muertos to build a shrine to your closest dead loved ones. This shrine usually includes a photo or painting of the deceased, surrounded by merrigolds and candles, and the table is laid out with their favorite foods, drinks, and sweets. The belief is that on this special day the dead will come to your home to visit with you (apparently whether you are home or not) and so you welcome them with their favorite things. Every Mexican home seems to have one or more of these shrines, and even some of the larger tombs in the elite cemetery were decked out in this manner. |
After a short visit, we went to the capital city of Tlaxcala for dinner. There were large shrines built in the main square, presumably to town celebrates or important figures. Children were out in costume (many dressed as dead people in elegant clothing) and there were dances and other performances throughout the square.
Having missed Christmas celebrations last year by being stuck in the vacant border town of Agua Prieta, it was great to be able to see some real Mexican traditions on el Dia de los Muertos and to learn a little more about this previously mysterious holiday!