letters to nobody #10: flor de muertos
darling nobody,
death has always been my biggest fear- and
i don’t think that will ever change. when i was six, i would try to imagine
what it would be like to be dead- to cease to exist. i would lie in bed, and
try to imagine what it would feel like to not feel anything. like floating. it
terrified me.
dia
de los muertos or the day
of the dead is a mexican tradition that grows on me quite easily. my incurable
fear of death does not stop me from admiring those who accept it- and even
welcome it with open arms. mexicans are unusually positive about death, and
everything to do with it.
as my host mother tells me,
“it’s the only thing that you know is going to happen for sure.”
it was the mayans who had a
traditional ball game that they played for two weeks. there was a little twist,
though: the team that won the game would have the honour of being beheaded, and
sacrificed to the gods above.
dia
de los muertos too, was
originally, a day of sacrificing people. the day of the dead was a day of
creating death, rather than honouring
it.
the spanish found this
tradition barbaric- and had it changed. dia
de los muertos became a day of honouring the dead.
dia
de los muertos is
celebrated on the 1st and 2nd of november. the 1st
of november is to remember the departed souls of children, and the 2nd
is for the adults. it is a day when these departed souls come down on earth to
spend a day with their loved ones. families set up altars with names and
pictures of their lost families, prepare their favourite food and create a path
leading up to the altar with the flower cempasĂşchil
or marigold- also known as flor de muertos (flower of the dead).
in the state of yucatan, families visit their lost ones in cemeteries, take their skeletons
out of their coffins, and clean them. they have fiestas and picnics in cemeteries with
their loved ones.
the idea of dia de los muertos, however, is not to
be sad over death. it is to celebrate life.
as much as i love dia de los muertos, i know it’s not for
me. the idea that one year, you could be celebrating dia de muertos, remembering your lost ones- and the next year, you
could be one of the photograph on the altar, is enough to keep me awake for
several nights.
coffee,
the sick cat, seems determined to outlive dia de los muertos, my host mother tells me one day, we thought we’d have his picture up on the
altar this year but he’s not giving up.
he cannot move at all,
cannot make a sound- but is struggling through it all.
a few days after dia de los muertos, my host mother takes
a beautiful picture of coffee, face raised, blue eyes blearily looking at the
camera.
for
next year, she says- and
i understand.
+
on the 30th of
october, i have plans to go to the festival of dia de los muertos in xcaret,
a famous ecological park. the festival happens every year, and has several
events and performances, along with fairs and beautiful places to see.
i spend two whole weeks
being excited for this day, which will be followed by a five-day long trip to valladolid, yucatan with the other
exchange students. what i don’t look forward to, though, is changing my host
family two days after returning from the trip. yes, the time to change to my
second host family is almost here, and i dread it.
+
october 30th
arrives, and i have about half an hour after school to take a shower, and get
ready. we’re supposed to wear black, preferably, and paint our faces
traditionally.
+
xcaret, as expected, stuns me. we start with the
food, of course. i buy myself esquite
and churros, and then my host
brother, sean and i head to watch a mayan dance in a sort of amphitheatre- a
dance that starts out innocent enough before one of the characters dancing falls
onto the floor to his death. the cheery music continues to play in the
background and the other mayans skip and dance as they cover him in gifts. it
begins to give me goose bumps- there’s something eerie about how happy the
music is.
a few days later, i hear
the same music playing at a party and shake my head, trying to ignore the
chills i have.
we wander around more after
this, looking at the stalls and displays. i buy myself blue cotton candy, and
am more than content with my life.
we go to a pretend-cemetery
with replicas of beautiful graves from around mexico. i am excited, snapping
pictures of every beautiful gravestone.
“if you’re going to
continue taking photos of every gravestone, you’re going to end up taking 365
photos,” my host brother tells me with a grin.
we then go to watch a zakateca music show, played on a
traditional instrument that i never learn the name of- and i genuinely enjoy it
way more than i expect to.
while i have always loved
instrumental music, i can never lose myself to it as with songs. this, however,
is different. as pretentious as it sounds, i feel like i am the music and the
music is me. i almost want to beg to stay when my family says it’s time to
leave- but i don’t, and for good reason.
we’re going to watch the
maya ball game.
+
the ball game is in the
amphitheatre, nothing like i expected it to be.
i expected something like
basketball, but it turns out to be more of a rehearsed dance performance accompanied
by a rehearsed and intense ball game that sends shivers down my spine.
in fact, i don’t understand
most of the game as it is in spanish.
what i do understand is
when they set fire to a rope that stretches across the entire stage, and
suddenly, the stage is glowing, burning with fire and i know i’m meant to be enjoying
the show, i know it’s all rehearsed and there are safety measures: but i can’t stop
thinking about the possibility of the entire amphitheatre burning down, with
all the people in it, what would happen if the fire touched one unpredicted surface.
well, one thing’s for sure:
the mayans from thousands of years ago would be happy.
darling nobody,
i’m laughing now as i try
to think of what i could say to you, in conclusion. here’s the only thing i’ve
come up with yet: it’ll be several days of the dead before my feelings for you
are dead.
x
instagram: saachisassified
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