Dia De Los Muertos

Ajijic celebrated the Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead) this week. The fiesta lasts from the evening of October 31, through the evening of November 2. For us, it began with a surprise parade up Calle Hidalgo past our house on the 31st, just at sunset. It was a surprise because we had only heard about the activities on the 1st and 2nd, but that's Mexico for
you--always the unexpected! The parade included local marching bands, pick-up trucks with living tableaux portraying various Catholic religious themes, and the finale was a large troupe of dancers in pre-Colombian costumes.

The mixture of Spanish and Indian religious traditions is also typical of Mexico. In fact, the Day of the Dead was an attempt by the Church to co-opt native traditions about death and the dead into the Catholic All Saints Day. All Saints Day in the US has morphed into Halloween, which has lost nearly all of its religious significance and is about "ghosties and ghoulies and things that go bump in the night." In other words, a highly commercialized horror show.

In Mexico, the meaning of the Day of the Dead could not be more different. It is a true celebration, focusing not on the horror and monstrous aspects of death, but on death as a transition to a state from which dead relatives and associates can return to visit. It is a kind of family reunion of living and dead, with the living preparing altars containing offerings of food and objects that the dead person especially enjoyed in life. Some of the altars are dedicated to famous people like Pope John Paul, and I even saw one with the picture of Errol Flynn. School Children are encouraged to make their own altars, which were displayed at the Ajijic Cultural Center. For a fuller explanation of the history and significance of this national fiesta, click on Days of the Dead.

November 1st is reserved for dead children, who are supposed to be especially blessed since they are too young to have sinned and thus go directly to heaven. They are considered to be little angels, or Angelitos. The 2nd is reserved for adults. However, the whole family seems to participate in both events. On the night of the 2nd there were two activities going on at opposite ends of town. One, at the town cemetery, was just down the road from us. The other was at the Ajijic Cultural Center, on the main plaza. They were both scheduled to start at the same time, just a dusk, but we decided to try to do both, the cemetery first, then the plaza.

Carole was a little concerned about the cemetery event, fearing that we might intrude on solemn family gatherings. However, as we walked down the narrow cobblestone street it became evident that the event was anything but quiet and solemn. More and more people were streaming in our direction, as we passed neighbors setting up food stands and their personal family altars along the street. Firecrackers exploded around us with startling regularity.

When we got to the entrance to the Panteon (cemetery) the street was mobbed and all sorts of stands and stalls lined the road. It had the feel of a tailgate party. On a stage at the end of the road were colorful dancers, with a giant skeleton figure as a backdrop. The atmosphere was gay and festive.

After watching various troupes of dancers, and listening to a Mexican poet give a dramatic recitation of what I gathered was a headless-horseman sort of tale, we decided to head for the plaza, which promised an art show, more dancers, and more altar displays. Carole was tired, so I decided to go it alone. I enjoy walking around Ajijic in the evening because the whole community comes out of their homes to hang out on the street, even on non-fiesta nights. It's not uncommon to see a young mother with children, even infants, walking around at 11:00 PM.

At the Plaza, I talked to an elderly Mexican man whose English, though limited, was much superior to my Spanish. At my request he very kindly explained some of the symbolic elements of the altars (see the link).

I was entranced by the costumes and the skeleton faces worn by children and adults alike. At one point I was able to go backstage and got permission to photograph four very pretty dancers. Be sure to take in the Dia De Los Muertos if you ever visit Mexico at this time of year!

Launching the Adventure

This adventure wasn't launched on a whim. It was a long time coming, including years of research, and much soul-searching by me about giving up my 31 year career, and by my wife about giving up our beautiful, comfortable, paid-for home in Oregon to make a leap into the unknown. It took from January 2006 when I finally said "enough!" and decided to retire from a job I had loved but was ready to leave, until June 30, 2007 when we actually crossed the border.

In the Winter and Spring of 2006 we intensified our research, drew up lists, set priorities, and made a test visit to Ajijic that summer to see what it felt like when our boots were on the ground. I completed my final day at work December 15, 2006 and we then spent the next six and a half months totally focused on the move.

We decided to utilize my union organizing skills, long in service to others, now refocused to help keep us on track. We made plans and time lines and task lists and all the rest, and we needed them all. We had to sell our house, even as the real estate market began to teeter and groan, in preparation for its later crash. We had to consolidate our finances so we could access all of our investments and bank accounts on-line. To dispose of most of our possessions, including some furniture I had clung to from my early-70's Air Force days in the Far East, we decided not to sell things, but to give them away, much to the delight of my coworkers and the Goodwill. Passports, birth certificates, immunizations and all the rest of the endless details of an international move consumed our final weeks. And then it was done.

We drove our small Toyota, packed to the roof, through the scorching summer weather from Salem, Oregon to Laredo, Texas. Taking a deep breath, we braved the maze of Mexican customs and immigration, an astonishingly easy and reassuringly friendly process. Of course, a big part of the ease was due to the research and preparation we had obsessively pursued, and these have paid off handsomely and repeatedly for us throughout our first four months in Mexico.

In recent days, Carole and I have been working on our Spanish. Last month, we took a four week course (four classes, once a week) which got us familiar with some basic pronunciation rules, numbers, weekdays etc. The kind of stuff you need to make sure you're ordering soup and not a carburetor repair.

The class was offered by the Lake Chapala Society, a 3500 member volunteer organization of expatriates which has wonderful facilities in Ajijic. The LCS was founded decades ago and one of the key figures was Neill James, a female WWII Mata-hari who was nearly incinerated not once but twice climbing local volcanoes. She lived to the ripe old age of 99 and donated her property, including mind-boggling gardens, to be the headquarters of LCS.

The town is crawling with unusual Gringo types, off-beat, up-beat, down-beat, and some just plain-vanilla Beats. Some of them look like Jack Keroac characters, others appear to be gray-haired survivors of Woodstock. And then there are the artists, both Mexican and expatriate, who have festooned Ajijic with wall murals, sculptures, kinetic art, and paintings. Everyone seems to have gotten into the act by treating their homes as art media, bringing wildly extravagant colors together that anyone outside of Mexico could never imagine would work. But it does. I have scores of pictures of the most remarkable doors, windows and various chatzkes people have installed, some functional, some esoteric, some just for fun. And in truth, humor is a thread that runs throughout the art of Ajijic and of Mexico in general. It is great fun just to wander the streets, never knowing what you might encounter.