Professor Luis Felipe Rodríguez Palacios
Chronicler of San Miguel de Allende
English Translation: Metro News Mx and Guanajuato Desconocido
-San Miguel de Allende, true to its tradition, celebrates nearly every weekend with festivities or commemorations, and the Day of the Dead is a notable example.
-Poet Octavio Paz, in *The Labyrinth of Solitude*, defines the Mexican as a solitary being who loves public gatherings and celebrations, ritualizing time and events.
-Countrymen who migrate to the United States often share the sadness they feel from the difficulty of celebrating the great religious festivals they left behind in their homeland.
-Mexico’s religious festivals are unique spectacles filled with vivid colors, dances, ceremonies, fireworks, unusual costumes, and an endless variety of sweets and objects.
-For ancient Mexicans, death was not an end but a phase in an infinite cycle of cosmic regeneration, where life only transcends when fulfilled through death.
-The modern Mexican frequents, mocks, caresses, sleeps with, celebrates, and plays with death—unlike other cultures where the word is never spoken out of fear.
-The indigenous cult of the dead was banned by friars in its pagan form, which led to its fusion with Christian festivities, giving rise to the Day of the Dead.
-The Christian feast of All Saints and All Souls merged with the Nahua festivals *Miccailhuitontli* (for little dead ones) and *Huey Miccailhuitl* (for the great dead).
-In Mexico, the pre-Hispanic belief persists that the dead return to the world of the living: first the children on November 1st, and then all others on November 2nd.
-Altars and offerings aim to “nourish” the dead with a feast of aromatic essences, foods, and fragrances—a pre-Hispanic element to welcome them home.
-Pan de muerto, whose origin dates back to colonial times, is one of the most cherished elements of the altar, symbolizing fraternity and affection toward loved ones.
-In 2008, UNESCO declared the Day of the Dead celebration a Cultural Heritage of Humanity, reinforcing its value in the Mexican people's identity.
-In the mid-1970s, the Ministry of Public Education began promoting altar contests to rescue the tradition amid the growing influence of Halloween.
-La Catrina, created by José Guadalupe Posada, is the popular symbol of death—a satirical figure mocking the upper class, reminding them that death levels all social classes.
-The 2017 Disney film Coco has helped strengthen and spread the Day of the Dead tradition internationally, masterfully showcasing its meaning and symbolism.
Death Speaks – A Reflection
Almost every Sunday, in the space granted to me by XESQ, I begin by saying that, as usual, San Miguel is celebrating. The truth is, in our city, every weekend there’s something to commemorate or rejoice in. Some festivities, like the one that brings us together today, are a clear example.
To begin, allow me to read a fragment of a Nahuatl poem:
“No one truly lives forever.
Even jade breaks,
even gold shatters,
even quetzal feathers tear.
No one truly lives forever.
Only a little while here.”
And since most Mexicans are mestizos, here’s a fragment from Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer’s Rhyme LXXIII:
They closed her eyes
still open,
covered her face
with a white cloth,
and some sobbing,
others in silence,
from the sorrowful room
all departed.
The light in a glass
burned on the floor,
casting on the wall
the shadow of the bed;
and within that shadow
at intervals
the rigid outline
of the body appeared.
Day broke,
and with its first light,
the town awakened
with its thousand noises.
Faced with that contrast
of life and mystery,
of light and darkness,
I thought for a moment:
My God, how alone
the dead remain!
From the high bell tower
the iron tongue
rang out
its mournful farewell.
In mourning clothes,
friends and relatives
crossed in line
forming the procession.
From the final shelter,
dark and narrow,
the pickaxe opened
the niche at one end.
There they laid her,
sealed it afterward,
and with a gesture
the mourning ended.
The gravedigger,
pickaxe on shoulder,
humming between his teeth,
disappeared into the distance.
Night fell,
the sun had set:
lost in the shadows
I thought for a moment:
My God, how alone
the dead remain!
In the long nights
of frozen winter,
when the wood
creaks in the wind
and the strong rain
lashes the windows,
I sometimes remember
the poor girl.
There the rain falls
with eternal sound;
there the north wind
batters her.
From the damp wall
laid in the hollow,
perhaps from cold
her bones freeze…!
Does dust return to dust?
Does the soul fly to heaven?
Is everything without spirit,
decay and mud?
I don’t know; but there’s something
I cannot explain,
something that revolts
though it must be done—
leaving the dead
so sad, so alone.
For ancient Mexicans, the opposition between life and death was not as absolute as it is for us. Life extended into death—and vice versa. Death was not the natural end of life, but a phase in an infinite cycle. Life, death, and resurrection were stages in a cosmic process that repeated endlessly. Life only finds justification and transcendence when fulfilled through death.
For Christians, death is a passage—a mortal leap between two lives: the temporal and the otherworldly. For the Aztecs, it was the deepest way to participate in the continuous regeneration of creative forces, always at risk of extinction unless nourished with blood, the sacred food. In both systems, life and death lack autonomy; they are two sides of the same reality.
Modern death holds no transcendent meaning or reference to other values. In most cases, it is simply the inevitable end of a natural process.
For the modern Mexican, death lacks significance. It has ceased to be a passage or access to a life more alive than ours. Yet the insignificance of death does not lead us to eliminate it from our daily lives. For the inhabitants of New York, Paris, or London, death is a word never spoken—it burns the lips. The Mexican, on the other hand, frequents it, mocks it, caresses it, sleeps with it, celebrates it. It is one of his favorite toys and most enduring loves. True, his attitude may contain as much fear as that of others; but at least he does not hide it, nor does he hide from it. He stares it in the face with impatience, disdain, or irony:
“If they’re going to kill me tomorrow,
let them kill me now.”
Sugar skulls or tissue paper skeletons, colorful fireworks skeletons—our popular representations are always mockery of life, affirmation of nothingness, and the insignificance of human existence. We decorate our homes with skulls, eat bread shaped like bones on the Day of the Dead, and enjoy songs and jokes in which the bald death laughs. But all this boastful familiarity does not exempt us from the question we all ask: What is death? We have not invented an answer. The Mexican death is sterile—it does not generate, as Aztec and Christian death once did.
From the earliest moments, the indigenous cult of the dead was banned by friars in its pagan form, and the Christian festivals of the dead gradually merged through syncretism, giving rise to the typical Mexican Day of the Dead celebration.
With the arrival of European populations, this ritual underwent a process of acculturation. The festival of the god of the underworld merged with the Christian celebration of the dead and was reinvented into what we now know.
European Christians celebrated All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day. These coincided—though on different dates—with indigenous festivals: *Miccailhuitontli*, the festival of the little dead, and *Huey Miccailhuitl*, the festival of the great dead. Indigenous groups quickly assimilated the new rites and assigned new meanings to the Christian celebrations. All Souls’ Day was dedicated to the little dead, and All Saints’ Day to the great dead.
In Mexico, the belief persists that on the first two days of November, the dead return to the world of the living. First come the children, and the next day, all other souls. This belief originates from pre-Hispanic cultures.
The forced assimilation of Catholic customs led to a transformation of Nahua celebrations. The result was a hybrid festivity that maintains the Catholic calendar dates with a pre-Hispanic foundation. On these days, mortuary rituals are performed when divine entities are granted permission to revisit the earthly world.
Despite the imposition of Catholic practices, many elements of pre-Hispanic customs remain to this day. Among them, the Day of the Dead altars aim to “nourish” the intangible presence of the dead with a feast of colorful balms, sonic essences, aromatic dishes, and intoxicating fragrances offered by the living.
Offerings are a representative part of the Mexican celebration and a pre-Hispanic element used to welcome the dead. The belief that humans possess an essence also applied to objects. Thus, by placing dishes, drinks, sweets, and items the deceased enjoyed, it is hoped that they will take the essence of the offering with them when they depart.
Day of the Dead offerings are altars of pre-Hispanic origin. These were dedicated to various deities and placed on different dates. However, the altar for the lord of the dead, *Mictlantecuhtli*, was celebrated in the month we now know as November.
This coincidence was seized upon by colonial evangelizers to create a syncretism between Christianity and native religious beliefs.
Originally, altars were set up a few days before November 1st and 2nd -on October 30th or 31st-and remained until the 3rd. Today, due to the creative effort involved, it is common for them to be assembled earlier and taken down later. Nonetheless, November 1st and 2nd remain the central days.
The altar has a mixed origin, as both Europeans and Indigenous peoples had the custom of making offerings. These include objects and foods that the deceased enjoyed in life: mole, tacos, mezcal, tequila, pulque, sweets, and treats.
This time, the topic of the Day of the Dead celebration is addressed briefly, as the intention is not to delve deeply into it, but rather to highlight the main elements that have shaped this ancestral manifestation—rooted in the myths and beliefs of our indigenous ancestors and linked to our present through tradition, living folklore, and the joyful spirit of the Mexican people, who have worked to keep it alive despite the influence of foreign customs.
On November 1st and 2nd each year, our country celebrates one of the traditions that grows stronger in the Mexican people's hearts due to its symbolism in honoring the dead. For the Catholic Church, it is the commemoration of the Faithful Departed; for most of the population, it is simply the Day of the Dead—a celebration that UNESCO declared Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2008. Don Félix Luna also includes October 31st, calling it the *Day of the Thistles*, celebrated in several communities to remember unborn children.
The celebration, in its various facets, hides messages—primarily spiritual—that initially had nothing to do with the Christian God. These messages are revealing in their content and offer many angles for analysis, each of which could lead to extensive debates across disciplines: social, anthropological, psychological, religious, pagan, commercial, esoteric, etc.
Since the dawn of humanity, once awareness of death emerged, people have been compelled to reflect on it. The Mexican people have a very particular way of living with and celebrating death: they fear it, respect it, celebrate it, challenge it, mock it, dress it elegantly, canonize it, long for it, ridicule it, and sing to it:
“Death is coming
down,
through the cactus field.
So what’s the deal,
Baldy?
Are you taking me or not?”
Tomás Méndez
The Day of the Dead is a celebration. And as such, it involves a series of preparatory activities that take on a ritual character.
In the early 1960s, as children, my friends and I never saw or heard about Day of the Dead altars. It wasn’t a custom here, although undoubtedly there may have been isolated and little-known cases. It was in the mid-1970s that the federal government, through the Ministry of Public Education, undertook the task of rescuing “our traditions” in response to the growing influence of the Anglo-Saxon custom of Halloween, which was being promoted primarily through transnational commercial stores.
To that end, altar contests were promoted in secondary schools and high schools, with clearly positive results according to the intended goal.
We find little information about how this celebration was carried out in this region. Fortunately, we have the testimony of Don Félix Luna, who experienced the celebration in the community of Guerrero. He tells us that in the 1950s, early in the morning, people began cleaning the chapel, which was decorated with marigold flowers, bouquets, and many handmade figures. In the afternoon, people arrived with their offerings: each person brought gourds, corn, squash, chayotes, and chilacayotes in various forms; some brought honeycomb honey, pulque, etc.
The offerings were received by the steward. They also brought fennel, candles, and votive lights, which were placed on the altar. People didn’t return home but instead took a place in the chapel. At that time, there were no pews; people sat on the church floor.
At eight o’clock, people began leaving the chapel, and the church bell rang in a mournful tone. In the atrium, a large bonfire was prepared, and those exiting sat around it, with a central atrial cross and a calvary in front. The chapel was left empty so the souls could enter and enjoy the offerings. Part of the offerings included pitchers filled with water, with a glass made of crystal or clay. Candles, votive lights, and copal were then lit.
The chapel filled with smoke, and fireworks were set off—everything to help the souls recognize the place where they were awaited. The vigil began around nine or ten at night. Some danced around the bonfire and sang praises.
In the morning, atole and tamales were distributed to everyone, and conch shells and chirimías continued to play while praises were sung throughout the day. At sunset, the dancing stopped, and people began to tidy up the chapel. Around eight at night, thanks were given to God for allowing the souls to visit the earthly realm and for granting life so they could return the following year to commune with their ancestors’ spirits. Afterward, the stewards began distributing among the attendees everything the souls had left from the offerings. Around ten at night, people began to leave, happy with what they had received from the souls’ altar.
Symbolism – The Levels
The altar is often built in tiers that represent the division of heaven, earth, and the underworld—a concept of pre-Hispanic origin that is still seen in some altars today. The number of levels has varied throughout history. Currently, some altars have seven levels (representing the stages the dead must pass through in the underworld according to Mesoamerican tradition), while others have three (heaven, earth, and underworld), two (heaven and earth), or even just one.
-The first tier, at the top, symbolizes heaven: it holds images of saints or photographs of the deceased.
-The second tier represents purgatory: it also holds photographs of the deceased.
-The third tier contains the favorite offerings of the departed: food, fruit, wine, etc.
Traditional elements of the altar include:
- Salt and white tablecloth: The color represents purity, and salt is the main element of purification to prevent the body of the deceased from decaying. It also allows them to travel between this world and the world of the dead.
- Water for the offering: Besides symbolizing purity, it quenches the thirst of the souls after their long journey.
- Candles, votive lights, and fireworks: The flame emitted by candles and votives symbolizes guidance so the dead can find their way back to their former home. In some communities, fireworks are used to help souls avoid getting lost.
- Sugar or chocolate skulls: These represent death according to Mesoamerican tradition. They allude to pre-Hispanic beliefs and symbolize hope.
- Copal and incense: Fragrant elements of reverence used to cleanse the space of evil spirits so the soul can enter safely.
- Marigold flowers (cempasúchil): They decorate and perfume the space and the soul’s stay. Marigolds are the symbol of the celebration. Tradition dictates creating paths with marigold petals from the main road to the altar to guide souls to their offerings. *Cempasúchil* means “flower of twenty petals” in Nahuatl.
- Tamales: Another essential element of the Day of the Dead celebration. Families prepare them days in advance, buying everything needed: corn husks, ingredients for the filling, sweet guava, masa, etc. Though tamales now come with many fillings, the traditional ones were cheese and sweet guava. They are always accompanied by steaming *atole*. Fried tamales are also popular.
- Pan de muerto (bread of the dead): Originating in colonial times, it is made in various forms—with sugar, nuts, fillings, etc.—and is one of the most cherished elements of the altar, symbolizing fraternity and affection toward loved ones. The bread itself is not extraordinary, except for its shape and its essential role in domestic altars. It is round, representing the circle of life, and honors the dead with bone-shaped decorations and a small circle in the center representing the skull. Some versions are adorned with red-colored sugar, symbolizing the body of Christ.
- Papel picado (cut paper): This element not only adds color and joy to the offering but also represents air—one of the four elements that must be present in any altar.
- Food: The food is meant to delight the dead who visit the altar. It is cooked in honor of the remembered loved ones, and their favorite dishes and drinks are placed. Some altars also include fruits and vegetables such as sugarcane, tejocotes, oranges, mandarins, peanuts, among others.
- Portrait: A photograph of the loved one is a way to honor those who have passed.
- Mirror on the altar: In some offerings, the portrait of the loved one is placed in front of a mirror. This allows the deceased to see only the reflection of their relatives—and vice versa.
Visit to the Graves in the Cemetery
Even today, as in the past, many people visit cemeteries in the days leading up to these dates to clean the graves, remove weeds, dried flowers, and rusty containers. With pick and shovel, they reshape the earthen tombs. Wooden or metal crosses are repainted, and the names of the deceased are retouched. And, as in the past, it is sad to see the graves of familiar people covered in weeds, rust, and years of accumulated neglect. On November 2nd, bouquets of flowers are brought to adorn the tombs briefly.
Alfeñique stalls
There were many stalls where one could admire almond-shaped fruits, sugar skulls, and other sugar-based fruits. Other stalls sold wooden boxes where pulling a string would lift a skull that peeked through a window in the lid. There were also clay skulls with a string coming out of the top of the cranium that, when pulled, moved the lower jaw, making a sound like chattering teeth.
The other side of the Day of the Dead celebration is its exploitation by commerce in all its forms. The commemoration has been branded—today it’s more “marketing.” It has become a label influenced by diverse cultural trends, essentially a commercial technique that capitalizes on fashion. Massive advertising and relentless promotion create false needs, indifference, or mere curiosity.
Modern life has led people to feel at the mercy of a great spiritual void they seek to fill however they can. They search for the sacred and the mysterious. They see in the Day of the Dead altars a way to connect with their departed and with themselves. It’s evident that the ancient roots of the tradition have mutated.
It seems a new style has emerged, with new methods and renewed fervor. In this way, the Day of the Dead celebration gradually loses its original essence. What we see now is the result of the convergence of various elements and countercultural movements.
Altars are full of talent and creativity. Their construction includes a wide variety of decorative elements that also convey diverse messages.
What’s worth celebrating is that the goal of rescuing the tradition was clearly achieved. Governments at all levels present monumental altars in public squares, along with decorations related to the date, delighting locals and impressing foreign visitors.
Las Catrinas
La Catrina, the popular symbol of death, is the most famous character born from the talent of painter, caricaturist, and illustrator José Guadalupe Posada.
She is a skeleton dressed elegantly, with a lavishly adorned hat and gown, topped with a large flower-covered sombrero. She is perhaps the most iconic image associated with the Day of the Dead and death in general. She is one of the symbols that identifies Mexico around the world. Posada conceived her as a satire of the upper class, sarcastically reminding them that death levels all social classes. For some, she is a way of identifying the Aztec goddess of death.
Years ago, Mrs. Pegy Taylor began dressing as La Catrina—her slender figure and elegant attire drew attention and was gradually imitated. Today, various parades are organized throughout Mexico and even abroad, where dressing as La Catrina has become a way to celebrate and identify with this Mexican tradition.
The Film Coco
Another element that has helped strengthen and successfully spread the tradition internationally is Disney’s film *Coco*. Released in October 2017, it masterfully showcases the meaning of the tradition and the depth of its symbols through Pixar’s fantasy and vibrant colors.
Incidentally, on October 16 of last year, Doña María Salud Ramírez Caballero passed away at the age of 109. She was the woman who inspired Disney’s depiction of Mamá Coco in the film. It’s worth noting that Disney never officially acknowledged her as the model to avoid legal complications.
Literary Calaveras
As part of Hispanic roots, we also have another cultural manifestation within these celebrations: the so-called *literary calaveras*. These range from refined poetic inspirations to the most sarcastic and simple verses. Of course, they are read aloud among friends in joyful gatherings, featuring rhymed lines with references to death and personalized dedications.
“In this grave
with a sock-like smell,
lie the remains
of Juan and Agustín.”
Marketing
The other side of the Day of the Dead celebration lies in the exploitation of the festivity by commerce in all its forms. This commemoration has been branded—today, it’s more about “marketing.” It has become a label shaped by diverse cultural influences, essentially a commercial technique that capitalizes on trends. Massive advertising and relentless promotion create false needs, indifference, or mere curiosity.
Modern life has led people to feel at the mercy of a vast emptiness they seek to fill spiritually however they can. They search for the sacred as much as the mysterious. They see in Day of the Dead altars a way to connect with the departed—and with themselves. It’s clear that the distant roots on which the tradition was founded have gradually mutated.
It seems a new style has taken hold, with new methods and renewed fervor. In this way, the Day of the Dead celebration is slowly losing its original essence. What we see today is the result of a convergence of various elements and countercultural movements.
The altars are full of talent and creativity. Their construction includes a wide variety of decorative elements that also convey diverse messages.
What’s worth celebrating is that the goal of rescuing the tradition was clearly achieved. Governments at all levels present monumental altars in public squares, along with decorations related to the date—for the enjoyment of the people and the admiration of foreign visitors. #MetroNewsMx #GuanajuatoDesconocido
