It is that time of year again. An ancient tradition, blended (sometimes uncomfortably, to say the least, from a Vatican point of view) with the Catholic religion brought over by the Spaniards, into a colourful, exotic, weird and sometimes even slightly creepy festival. It’s time for skeletons, skulls and graveyard dinners.
I’m not going to write an awful lot about the Day of the Dead. Others have described it better than I could. Don Felipe is poetic in describing the event in Patzcuaro, famous for their celebrations. Too famous, it seems. Leah can tell you how Day of the Dead is dying in Vercruz. Probably elsewhere too. Catherine is really into skulls, while Joanna gets into the nitty gritty of what this day means to Mexicans. And should you happen to pass through Mexico City this time next year, Ruth can give you the guided tour on Day of the Dead from a culinary perspective.
For me, it’s a colourful photo opportunity. But less so this year at the Zocalo, where they lay on a big display for natives and tourists alike. Just far too many of both. It’s always busy, but this year was silly – we couldn’t move. Having spent twenty minutes getting into the square, we immediately spent another 20 minutes desperately trying to get out.
We went to Coyoacan instead. Also busy, but nice busy not silly busy. Lots of monsters roaming with their orange pumpkins asking for sweets. Or cash. They’ll take cash. Their costumes can be really quite fantastic. Although I’ve noticed there are a lot of Michael Jackson’s these days. Well, I guess the theme is ‘monsters’… click here to see all my photos on Flickr.