Being in Pasac during Dia de los Muertos was an incredibly enriching experience. We were lead by locals to the cemetary about ten minutes away, along a narrow rocky path in between dilapitated houses and yards. The cemetary was filled with families; women in traditional Mayan clothing, crowds of young teens dressed in all black with their hair slicked to the side, old men in traditional kilt-like clothing and red woven shirts, and children in both traditional and modern clothing. The men would clean up the graves and build up a mound of dirt over the grave. Women, for the most part, were the members of the families that would decorate the graves with palms, different colored flowers including the orange marigold- ¨flor de muerto¨, tall skinny candles, and colorful plastic decorations. Candles were lit all day and night and women swung thuribles with pungent incense, the ¨food of the dead¨, even though the smoke clouded their vision. There was a small, one room church-like building where an altar stood against the back wall. The white walls inside where soiled by the plumes of smoke emanating from the dozens of candles carefully rooted to the cement only by thin layers of wax. Children would lean in the open windows, peering in to giggle and laugh at the drunken men, los borrachos, who were crying and laughing for their deceased loved ones. What seemed to unify the whole day´s chaos were the hundreds of colorful kites in the clouds- made of tissue paper and bamboo twigs- being flown all around the town by many excited little kids.
Con amor,
Kenzie
