Día de los Muertos

I grew up in a city that is infamous for putting the “fun” in funeral. In New Orleans, we’re known for second-lining down the streets, often times with a daiquiri in hand, dancing on top of caskets, saluting a life well lived, and the passage of a departed soul into a new life. I never understood why the rest of the United States wasn’t quite on the same page when it came to death. Well, luckily, I’ve landed smack dab in a country that thoroughly understands there’s no better way to commemorate death than with a celebration of life!

This weekend, here in Guatemala, Doña Aura and Don Rodolfo had me put on my best so we could head to the cemetery to celebrate Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead). Families here spend days cooking, arranging flowers, and repainting graves (in the most brilliant colors) of their deceased friends and family. On the actual day of Día de los Muertos, they head to the graves, with all the food, flowers, and even booze (NOLA style) that they’ve spent weeks preparing. It’s a day to drink, eat, laugh, cry, and celebrate around the grave of their deceased, loved ones. This was my first Día de los Muertos experience and it will live with me forever. We woke before the sun, headed to the cemetery, and with my arm linked in Doña Aura’s, we joined the crowd heading towards the cemetery. The cemetery was absolutely packed, full of everyone from my community- from the tortilla lady to the bollo who lives at our local Cantina. Everyone was headed to pay their respects. I was overwhelmed by the spirit and light radiating from every colorfully painted, flower-covered grave. Kids stood on the tombs of their deceased, family members, flying barriletes (kites). I took in each moment, watching hundreds of kites in the sky, illuminated by the sun. I was completely present and humbled in every way that my family invited me in to participate, cook, laugh, cry, and celebrate life with them these past couple days.