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Dead man’s party

Dia de los Muertos mixes indigenous views of death, lively dose of mirth

ASU senior Denisse Leon, remembers well how her abuela taught her the duality of life and death – and the joy and sorrow of both - through yearly celebrations of Dia de los Muertos.

Leon, a project assistant for the university’s Latino/a Events Committee, has memories rooted in her home town of Mexico City. But throughout Arizona residents of Hispanic heritage -- and even some who aren’t -- are evincing an increased interest in this ancient indigenous celebration, a tradition that was centuries old when the Spanish Conquistadors arrived in the 16th century.

At that time, the celebration was a month-long ritual presided over by the goddess Michtecacihuatl, the Aztec queen of the underworld. Indigenous peoples observed the rite in the ninth month of the Aztec calendar (approximately the beginning of August).

And though Spain attempted to first vanquish the celebration (then later attempted to incorporate it in the Roman Catholic Church’s All Saints’ Day, Nov. 1), thousands of years of tradition would not succumb. The two-day celebration that is Dia de los Muertos remains very much alive today.

Some, like Leon, are culling memories from grandmothers who learned the Dia de los Muertos traditions from their grandmothers. Others are rediscovering their indigenous heritage and preparing altars or stringing papél cortado for perhaps the first time. For all, it is a celebration of the duality of life and death.

Although some Arizona residents may confuse Dia de los Muertos as the Mexican counterpart to Halloween, in many ways the two are as different as night and day.

While Halloween frightfully focuses on witches, ghosts and other spooky things that go bump in the night, Dia de los Muertos celebrates and commemorates the memories of loved ones with simple, earnest acts of love. Yes, there are skeletons aplenty, but they’re not the fearful specters of Halloween. In fact, they are generally quite merry and well-dressed for the party.

Leon recalls that as a child the approach of Dia de los Muertos was signaled when her abuela took her and her cousins to the mercados of Mexico City to purchase pan de muerto, cempasúchil flowers (marigolds), candles and papél picado, all in preparation for decorating la ofrenda. The children were very much involved.

"I remember her telling us that Dia de Los Muertos is a day to celebrate our ancestors, and to not be afraid of death," Leon says. "She also explained the meaning of each item in la ofrenda. For example, the candles were to light up the paths of the souls coming from far away; the salt was to scare away the bad spirits, the cempasúchil flowers were used to guide souls to their homes and altars.

"Since my grandma was the only one that truly knew the meaning behind Dia De Los Muertos, she played a significant role in keeping this tradition alive in my family.

La ofrenda was the focal point of the Leon family home for the first two days of November.

"My grandma always placed a picture of her mother and father and their favorite dishes at la ofrenda," Leon says. "For the first day, Nov. 1st, we celebrated the deaths of the children. My grandma always made sure to have candy, milk and toys for their souls.

"On the second day, Nov. 2nd, she would include a bottle of tequila on la ofrenda, as that was my grandparents’ favorite drink.

"During the evening of these two days, my abuela took us to church. Although I never understood what was being said during Mass, I always enjoyed attending because I knew afterward I would get a calavera de azucar (sugar head)," she said, smiling again at the memory. "After two days of celebrating, my grandma gave us permission to eat the remaining food which we put out for the souls. Interestingly enough, the fruit was always tasteless. My grandma said it was due to the fact that ‘the souls’ had eaten the ‘soul of the fruit’."