This year, the celebration of Día de Muertos (Day of the Dead) was bittersweet. For one, it’s been two years since I was last in Mexico for this holiday. For another, it’s the first celebration since the passing of a very young family member. It’s also the first for me since the passing of my husband’s grandmother and uncle, who we were close with. Finally, this year death has felt quite close to us.

The Origin of the Day of the Dead

Mexico’s Day of the Dead celebrations coincide with the European celebration of All Soul’s Day, on November 2. It’s also very close to the celebration of Halloween. These holidays recognize a time when the veil between this world and the next becomes porous.

The Day of the Dead has it’s roots in the great civilizations of pre-Columbian Mexico as well as the Spanish traditions. That is to say, it’s roots are the same as those of Mexico itself. In pre-Colombian Mexico they celebrated two holidays dedicated to the dead. One holiday celebrated the young and another the old. The Mexicas recognized their holidays in the European tradition of All Saint’s Day, and infused that celebration with their own customs.

In Spain it was common to make breads and sweets in the form of bones and skulls. The modern equivalent is of course the pan de muerto (bread of the dead) that can be found in cafes and bakeries throughout Mexico during October and November. In Mexico City, it is common to find it coated with granulated sugar and rolled dough that represents bones, while in Oaxaca it is prepared with more anise and instead of bones, the loaves are decorated with a face.

Celebrating the Day of the Dead

Mexico’s Day of the Dead Celebrations are as diverse as the regions within Mexico, but a few common elements include creating ofrendas (altars dedicated to family members who have passed), sand paintings, and decorating tombs and cemeteries with flowers (marigolds, specifically) and candles. In Oaxaca, where my husband’s family lives, it is common to spend the night from November 1st to the 2nd in the cemetery. People gather with food and drink and spend the evening with family, both living and dead.

In Mexico City, you’ll find public ofrendas throughout the city. You’ll also find representations of death in the form of skeletons. Perhaps you’ll see the famous Catrinas, skeletons dressed in fancy clothes, originally created by a cartoon artist to remind Mexico’s wealthy classes that death is inevitable. Or, perhaps you’ll see tamale vendors and chefs. This year, there was an exhibition of skulls along Reforma Avenue, painted and decorated in different styles.

Outside of Mexico, one of the most well known representations of the Day of the Dead is the scene of a parade with giant skeletons and people in costume at the start of the James Bond flick, Spectre. However, that parade was invented by Hollywood for the movie. When I was living in DC, a friend told me his girlfriend wanted to go to Mexico City for the Day of the Dead parade. I informed him with 100% certainty that there was no such thing. It turns out I was wrong! They started to hold an annual parade after the movie came out.

Between the Dead and the Living

One of our cousins on my husband’s side was born on November 2. In the spirit of her birthday, she has a talent for sensing and seeing spirits. Every year we celebrate her with a dinner on the evening of November 2. Every year, we find ourselves telling ghost stories around the dinner table.

Oaxaca has a wealth of stories, some of them reflecting common themes throughout Mexico and others specific to Oaxaca. One of the most famous is La Llorona (the crying woman), the spirit of a woman who drowned her children, and now overwhelmed with grief wanders the streets crying for them. My husband’s grandmother says she saw her once.

A story specific to Oaxaca tells of a young woman who hails a taxi near the cemetery on the eve of the Day of the Dead. She asks the driver to take her to various locations around the city, and eventually she asks him to return her to the cemetery again. When she gets out of the car, she explains to the driver: I don’t have any money. But take this ring to this address tomorrow. They’ll pay you what you are owed. The next day, the driver goes to the address and presents the ring. He asks to be paid, and is informed that the young woman he drove the night before has been dead for years. She was buried with the ring she gave him.

In my husband’s family there are several stories of ghosts or spirits interacting with the living. His great grandmother used to see and converse with the dead. Once his uncle, a doctor, was walking alone at night in a remote area. He came upon an elderly woman who asked him to help her husband. He took a detour to visit them. The next day, he heard of a group of delinquents who had been assaulting and robbing passers by where he had been walking. When he went back to visit the elderly couple, they were nowhere to be found, and none of the neighbors knew them.

I asked my husband once why he thought that these stories are so common in places like Oaxaca, and so much rarer in larger cities like the one we live in. He told me that people need to be open to these experiences. In our world that is dominated by science and technology, we are rarely receptive to things that are not easily explained. In a place like Oaxaca, that is heavily influenced by the past and superstition, people are more open.

What do you think? Do you believe in ghosts?