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| One of many impressive displays in downtown Puebla |
Day of the Dead. It's a required topic for every elementary Spanish course or self-described "multicultural" classroom throughout the United States. Coverage of this theme usually consists of a superficial lesson about the Mexican tradition, a calavera coloring page, and-- if you have a particularly fun teacher-- some sugar skull candies.
If you think my description sounds a bit critical, you should know that I myself am guilty of trivializing the holiday when teaching Spanish classes in the past (minus the candies, because I'm not even that cool...). And I'm not sure if showing students this adorable short film helped or hurt in terms of sincere cultural appreciation.
I honestly didn't realize until I got here that Día de Muertos is NOT primarily cutesy or cliché, but rather a multifaceted event celebrated fervently by the masses. Dicho de otro modo, it's a big frickin' deal. It provokes, dare I say, Christmas-level excitement and, for many families, deep spiritual reflection as well.
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| Student-made ofrenda at the primary school where I volunteer |
Given its widespread observance, especially here in Puebla, I was eager to get up close and personal with the customs surrounding this fiesta, beyond the decorations and mini-commemorations surrounding (inundating?) me in my daily life for the weeks leading up to November 1st & 2nd. What better way than to accompany a group of students on their field trip to Huaquechula, a nearby town where the ofrendas have been deemed patrimonio cultural of the state?
Little did I know, the school trip was basically just an excuse for the students (ages 19ish-21ish) to enjoy a largely unsupervised getaway with their significant others. As a result, I was essentially a 25th wheel on a young couples retreat. Oh, and speaking of wheels, there were some difficulties traveling to/through the rural towns by school bus, including navigating some dirt "highways" and dodging livestock:
Upon arrival, I was getting geared up for a 3-hour recorrido of the altars, but it soon became evident that the students were in a hurry to get back to the cabin and party the night away. Despite being disappointed by the unexpected changes in the itinerary (who needs a bread-making workshop when we can have a 5-hour boozy picnic and skip rocks on the river with our girl/boyfriends?!), I still had the opportunity to see several typical ofrendas. During the brief tour-- emphasis on brief-- I was genuinely moved by the families' displays honoring their loved ones.
According to the tradition, altares are constructed to commemorate any death in the family within the past year. In towns like Huaquechula that are known for this custom, families spend a huge portion of their year's earnings to put together the elaborate monuments, which only stay up for only a few days.
I won't pretend to understand the ins-and-outs of the carefully designed offerings-- which all have 3 tiers, are adorned with orange flowers/religious images/candles, and feature the deceased's favorite foods and other items-- but what I did grasp is that each aspect carries an immense amount of symbolism.
Inside the homes guests are respectfully quiet, but the tone is not altogether somber. Families distribute pan y chocolate, or in some cases serve full meals. In the town I visited with a student after the, erm, interesting field trip, we got generous servings of mole and pipián with fresh tortillas and refrescos.
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| Pipián verde con pollo |
I sure haven't taught much English recently, but it's safe to say fun is being had by all*!
*mostly by student parejas
