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The Day of the Dead on November 2nd is possibly one of the oldest and strongest traditions in Mexico. I believe (no evidence) that it comes from the Chinese Ghost month, when ghosts and spirits, long-gone ancestors come back from the netherworld. In the Chinese tradition, shrines are built, and offerings are made for the ghosts. If I am right, this would make it a 12,000 year old tradition. In both China and Mexico.
Shrines to the deceased are built everywhere.
Dance Death away?
“Your costume and make-up are fantastic! Can I take a picture?” Thank you for a lovely smile.
Shrines at night.
Shrines at the mall.
At the graveyard.
Old ladies go shopping. (Photo not mine regretfully, it was at an expo. Didn’t catch the photographer’s name)
Decisions are made: “I’ve made up my mind who I want to be, and that’s me.” Gabrielle (aka Coco) Chanel. Or is it Kirsten Stewart? Seriously? I want a word with the copy guy at the Ad agency…
Graves are swept and adorned. Margarita Leyva. 1934-2007.
Pancho Villa is celebrated.
The orange flower of cempasuchil covers all with its heady perfume.
An unlikely waitress. “¿Mezcal, Señor?”
The dearly departed’s favourite food and drinks will be sniffed by ghosts at midnight. A whiff of air signals that they have eaten and drunk. Then the living can hit the bar.
There will be flowers and celebration.
Bands play the dead’s favourite songs.
Thank you to those young dancers of the Ollin Yolitizi dance company. Your smiles will beat even the grim reaper.