Author: typepadtowordpress

Mexico

For nineteen years, Morelia, Michoacán, has hosted an international music festival.  This year, the guest of honor is the European Union.  The opening day of the Festival Internacional de Música traditionally offers a typically Michoacán touch to the inaugural afternoon: a ‘walk of flowers’ created by artisans from Patamban, a village approximately two and a half hours from Morelia.

Great Britain

Eighty-three artisans, headed by Don Neftalí Auyungua Juárez, began the creation of the tapetes (rugs) of flowers at approximately four o’clock on the morning of the 11th of November.   The artisans finished the carpet, which stretched more than two city blocks along Morelia’s Calzada Fray San Antonio de San Miguel, in time for its late-morning inauguration.

The panels of the flower carpet represent flags of the host country, Mexico and each of the eighteen countries of the European Union.  The flower carpet also includes many symbols of each country’s cultures.

Germany

Every detail of each design is created using plant material, including petals, leaves, seeds, pods, acorns, and entire flowers. 

Italy

The Patamban artisans first cover the entire cantera (hand-cut stone) pathway along the two blocks of the Calzada with plastic, which protects the stones.  The artisans then cover the plastic with a thick layer of aserrín (sawdust).

The artisans then use literally hundreds of types of flower petals and other plant materials to create the exquisitely detailed carpet.

In this carpet, hundreds of acorns stand at attention to form the points of a star.

Seed pods form the leaves and part of the side of this panel.

Butterflies, stars, and flowers make up this panel.  The entire carpet has a border of pine needles standing in small plastic bags filled with aserrín.

The center pathway at the Panteón de Belén (Bethlehem Cemetery) leads to this rotunda, the original Rotunda of Illustrious Men of Guadalajara. Patterned after an Egyptian pyramid, it contains crypts and a chapel.

When I was a child, a Sunday drive with my family often included a visit to one of the finest old cemeteries of the southern United States. My younger sister and I would wander among the elaborate limestone mausoleums, exclaiming at the dates that seemed so long ago, "Look, Mommy, this man died in 1822. Do you remember back that far?" My mother, born 100 years after that date, simply rolled her eyes and suggested that we hurry over to the cemetery pond to feed the ducks and swans from our bags of stale bread.

I still like to visit cemeteries. There's peace to be found among the dead, an acceptance of life as it is and death as it comes. The Day of the Dead in Mexico celebrates that notion: life is to be lived today, death is inevitable. Enjoy the one, honor the other. In Guadalajara, there is a cemetery where the long-dead are honored year round. You'll find plenty of entertainment in its legends and lore.

A few weeks ago, my friend Lourdes called just as I was leaving for the Panteón de Belén (Bethlehem Cemetery), Guadalajara's most famous burial ground. I thought she'd be squeamish when I asked her to meet me there, but no. She's a Guadalajara native, but she'd never been to the cemetery and she was quite excited at the prospect. She was beaming when we met at the ancient stone entrance. I paid our entry fee ($5 pesos per person, plus an extra $10 pesos if you plan to take pictures) and we started out along the center pathway through moldering gravestones and decrepit 19th Century mausoleums.

The construction of Panteón de Belén began in 1843 under the direction of architect Manuel Gómez Ibarra, who also built the towers of the Metropolitan Cathedral in Guadalajara. The cemetery had been in the planning stages since 1786, shortly after Guadalajara had passed through what has come to be called 'the year of hunger'. A tremendous plague gripped the city, killing thousands of its residents and filling the existing cemeteries. There was a tremendous need for a new campo santo (burial ground).

The colonnade of crypts at the front entrance of the Panteón de Belén.

City authorities chose the orchards of the civil hospital to build the new cemetery. Flat and extensive, the grounds were well-suited to this use. The first occupant of the cemetery, buried there in 1844 before the buildings were completed, was Isidoro Gómez Tortolero, pastor of the town of Tala, Jalisco.

Today, much of the cemetery has been closed and the remaining land used for other purposes. What we see now is only a fraction of what once existed. The lands that were used as the common graves of the poor are now under a huge building.

The portion of the cemetery where we walked (and where we found our admirable guide) is crumbling with age. Huge branching trees arch over the graves, the mausoleums, and the pathways. Mottled shade alternates with brilliant sunshine, creating the sense that we walked between the past and the present. Dates on the crypts carried us back in time, forcing our thoughts down paths that long-dead feet trod before us.

Legend and history had us in their grip. One minute Lourdes said, "I'm not the sort that is afraid in a place like this," and the next minute she showed me her arm, with gooseflesh and peach fuzz standing up in a chilly shiver. We stood silent, wondering which graves were the stuff of ghostly tales and which held the barely-remembered.

The inscription on Little Nacho's tomb reads, "Ignacio Torres Altamirano, May 26, 1882".

Suddenly we heard a high-pitched young voice saying, "And over here is Little Nacho, the one who was afraid of the dark." Our ears perked up. We looked for the source of the voice and saw a young girl, no more than nine or ten years old, leading a group of enthralled visitors around the cemetery. We begged permission to join them.

"See the child's stone coffin, built on top of the grave?" Her girlish voice turned very serious. "That's Little Nacho, who died exactly on his first birthday. From the time he was born, he was terrified of the dark and couldn't bear to be in a closed room. He had to sleep in a room filled with candles, a room where all the windows were open. The doctors were amazed by his fear, and nothing his parents could do would cure it. They even took him to curanderos(faith healers) to see if he was bewitched, but to no avail.

"When Little Nacho died, his parents buried him here in this grave, with a heavy gravestone above him. Everyone went home from the funeral and night fell. When the cemetery watchman made his rounds just at dawn, he jumped back in horror when he saw that Little Nacho's tiny coffin was lying on top of the gravestone. His report to the cemetery authorities was that someone had dug up the baby's coffin during the night, a desecration of the worst sort."

Very stylish in her pink skirt, Jessica Torres (at the far right), age ten, skillfully guided our group through the cemetery. Dramatic and articulate, she kept us all in shivers.

Our little group was riveted by what our young guide was saying. She continued, "That same day they buried his coffin again, but every morning for the next ten days it reappeared on top of the gravestone. No one had ever seen anything like it, and no one knew what to do. the cemetery authorities were trembling, but they finally had to tell the parents about these strange events.

"Little Nacho's grieving parents immediately knew the solution. 'Leave his coffin on top of his grave. He feared the dark in life. Of course he fears it in death as well.' And there it stayed, and here it still stays. Little Nacho rests above the ground."

Lourdes raised her hand. "And all those little toys and candies around the base of the tomb? Why are they there?"

Our guide smiled briefly. "They say that if you leave Little Nacho a piece of candy, your life in the future will be sweet."

We moved along to the next monument. Jessica Torres, our guide, stopped abruptly in front of a large carved stone tomb. "Two people are buried here, José María Castaños and Andrea Retes. They were so much in love and planning to be married, but the boy's mother hated the girl because she was from a lower social class.

"The two lovers were so upset by José María's mother's anger and hatred that they killed themselves. When his mother found out what happened, she almost went crazy from grief and guilt. She owned a plot in this cemetery and begged permission from Andrea's parents to bury the two lovers together. She had a double cross carved and placed on their tomb as a way of asking for God's forgiveness.

"Still, José María's mother's guilt would not leave her in peace. She knew she was the one responsible for the two deaths. Cry though she might, she could not get rid of the pain in her heart. Months later, she decided to take a wreath of flowers to lay on the grave. She draped the wreath over the double cross, just the way a lasso (ceremonial rope symbolizing marital union) is draped over the bride and groom at their wedding.

"A sudden silence fell over the cemetery as José María's mother laid the wreath over the cross. Even the birds stopped singing. In that silent instant, the wreath of beautiful fresh flowers turned to stone, just the way we see them today. And with that sign, José María's mother finally believed that the two young lovers had forgiven her."

In 1996 the stone crosses on the Castaños tomb fell and suffered some damage, but they remain united by their wreath of flowers.

Whispering among ourselves about the stories we'd heard, our not-so-brave little band followed behind Jessica as she led us toward the next grave site. One of the women with us murmured, "I hear they have night tours here. I don't think I'd have the courage to come here in the dark. It's scary enough in the broad daylight."

Jessica turned around. "There are night tours, on Fridays and on some special days, too. There will be night tours celebrating the Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) this year. In fact, it's a marathon. Four tours will start every hour or so, beginning at seven o'clock at night and lasting all night long. The whole cemetery will be full of people."

Lourdes and I looked at one another and nodded. "I wouldn't miss it, would you?" she whispered.

Our next graveside stop was at the tomb of the sailor. Jessica told us that unlike other legendary Navy men, this sailor did not have a girl in every port. Instead, he had an enemy in every port. Sailing Mexico's west coast, he stole jewelry, gold coins, and everything else of value he could expropriate from the rightful owners. The sailor was a pirate, and he had a huge stash of valuables.

The tombstone of el marinero (the sailor), who buried a huge bag of gold coins—somewhere. Will you be the one to learn the secret?

"Only he knew where the booty was. Even though he had a son, he never told even his son where all the treasure was hidden. When the sailor was very old, he moved to Guadalajara and spent his last few months of life here. When he died, the secret of his treasure died with him."

Jessica smoothed her pretty pink skirt. "They say that you have to light a candle and pray the rosary with all your heart, right here at his grave at midnight. But you have to do it without fear, and many people have tried. They're not afraid when they start out, but about half way through the rosary something happens. They start trembling with fear, and they have to give up and run away. No one has ever made it through a whole rosary, but if you want to try it some midnight, they say that the ghost of the sailor will come out from behind the grave stone and tell you where the treasure is hidden." She shook her finger. "You won't find me here at midnight!"

I was surprised to see two side-by-side crypts with epitaphs in English. When I looked closer, I could see that the husband and wife were natives of Paisley, Scotland. Lourdes asked me, "How can you tell that they were married?"

I pointed out the word wife engraved into the marble of Jean Young's crypt marker. "That means esposa," I whispered to Lourdes.

Joseph Johnston, a doctor from Scotland, and his wife, Jean Young, are buried side by side in two crypts. They both died in Guadalajara in 1896.

Jessica was telling the story. "The man buried here was a doctor, but not one of those doctors who was only in the profession for the money. In fact, most of the time he didn't even want to accept payment for curing people. He did it from his heart. Nobody knows how he arrived in Guadalajara, but he and his wife both died here in 1896. And today, if you come to their graves and ask for a favor while you're praying the rosary, the couple will take charge of seeing to it that you have a lot of good luck, good health, and all the money you need." She looked at us and smiled. "And love, too. They'll make sure that the one you love also loves you. But you have to be praying from the heart."

Just one of the hundreds of crypts in Guadalajara's Panteón de Belén.

Those buried in the Panteón de Belén range from the highest of Guadalajara's 19th Century high society to the poorest of the poor, who were buried in common graves in the furthest part of the cemetery grounds. Among the elite are Ramón Corona, a governor of Jalisco; Enrique Díaz de León, the first rector of the University of Guadalajara; José Silverio Núñez, the second governor of Colima; and Carlos Villaseñor, a painter whose ashes now rest in the Rotonda de Hombres Ilustres across the street from the Metropolitan Cathedal. A glance at the list of important people buried in the cemetery is like reading a list of the street names of Guadalajara.

There are also graves marked only with a first name: Rafael, Enrique, Joaquín. These are children born out of wedlock. Rather than shame the mother, the child was buried with no last name on the tombstone.

There are many, many more legends to tell from the Panteón de Belén. We heard about the woman who was buried alive, the hanging tree, the night watchman, the horse and carriage, the empty tomb that bears a name, the priest shot by a firing squad, the student gone crazy—there are all of these tales and more to make the blood run just a little cold.

Today, the cemetery is a popular spot for portraits. Quinceañeras (young women celebrating their fifteenth birthdays) dressed in fabulous gowns and carrying beautiful bouquets are photographed every day of the week. Lourdes and I saw two lovely young women, one in floor length maroon and the other in cream satin with puffed sleeves, each being photographed next to carved pilasters. Newlyweds arrive after their weddings on Saturday afternoons, the brides radiant as they lean against a 19th Century mausoleum and smile into their new husbands' eyes.

The cemetery is romantic, it's beautiful, and it's an island of peace in the heart of Guadalajara. Here among the ghosts and legends of the past, today's young people celebrate their new lives.

Marianne Carlson’s life is a labor of love. Deeply passionate about the
traditional folk arts of Mexico, she’s so involved in what she does
that it’s difficult to discern where her work leaves off and her
personal life and interests begin.

Galería Maestros del Arte, the store she operates, is a
reflection of her zeal and knowledge. So is her house. Both places
overflow with Mexican folk art. At the shop, you’ll find everything
from the deceptively simply woven straw figures to whimsically hand
painted alebrijes, indigenous fantasy figures made of wood or clay.

Catrinas (skeletons dressed in finery, in this instance made of clay) from Capula, Michoacán will be exhibited and sold at the Feria Maestros del Arte.

Marianne talked about her moment of epiphany. "Several years ago, a
friend took me to visit one small area of Michoacán. We traveled to 17
different villages, where I saw folk art so beautiful that it took my
breath away. As we talked with the artisans, I asked where their work
was exhibited. When I discovered that most of the art was seen only in
local crafts fairs and competitions, a sudden burst of questions
exploded in my mind. How many foreigners would have the opportunity to
make this sort of trip? How many people would ever have the opportunity
to meet these artisans? How important is it to keep these folk art
traditions alive?

"It seemed crucial to me to bring the artisans and their art to a
location where both the artists and their work could be enjoyed by a
good-sized population of potential collectors. Where better than the
place I live, Ajijic? That’s how the idea for the Feria Maestros del
Arte, the annual show and sale featuring artisans selling their own
work, came into being. The mission of Feria Maestros del Arte is to
promote the rapidly disappearing indigenous art of Mexico."

Two different styles of high-fired pottery made by Ricardo Calderón and the collective Alfareros de Patamban, S.A. de C.V. (Potters of Patamban, Michoacán).  Private collection.

"Marianne, what are the dates of this year’s show, and where will it be held?"

"Feria Maestros del Arte 2007 is scheduled for November 9, 10,
and 11. It will be at the Club de Yates Chapala (Chapala Yacht Club).  There will be lots and lots of signs to
direct people, so there’s no way to miss it. The hours are 10 AM to 4
PM all three days."

Since its inception five years ago, the show has matured in scope and more than doubled in size. The 2007
exhibition and sale will host 34 Mexican artists from eight Mexican
states. No foreign exhibitors and no Lake Chapala area artists will
show or sell at Feria Maestros del Arte.  You’ll be able to meet in person at
the show living artists, treasures of Mexican artesanía, whose work might otherwise be inaccessible to you.

One of the artisans you’ll meet at the exhibit is José Luís Cerda Báez,
who makes hand carved traditional wooden spoon racks and the spoons to
go with them. His work is prized by collectors and is almost
indescribably beautiful. Intricately and heavily carved, his spoon
racks consistently win prizes at artisans’ competitions. I met Sr.
Cerda several years ago in Uruapan, Michoacán, as he carried one of his
stunningly beautiful spoon racks across a busy city street. We blocked
traffic as long as we dared as we talked about his art.

Marianne emphasized, "The artisans’ show and sale is only about
promoting the artists’ traditions. I make absolutely no money from the
show. Participation in the show is by invitation only and there is no
booth fee charged to any artist. It’s completely free for them to show
and sell their work. The show doesn’t charge a percentage or a
commission on sales to the artist. Each artist takes personal
responsibility for his or her transportation to and from the show, but
that’s his or her only expense. All housing for the artisans and their
family members is provided by host families here at Lake Chapala and I
provide two meals a day for the artisans eliminating those expenses.
Every penny the artist earns stays in his or her pocket."

Catarina Méndez works as a decorator for Neftalí Ayungua Suárez at his alfarería (pottery shop) in Michoacán.

Marianne went on to tell me about some of the features of the
show. "Each artist agrees to donate one of his or her works to be
raffled, with the proceeds going to local charities. All of the raffle
proceeds are donated to local charities."

Raffle tickets will be on sale at Feria Maestros del Arte throughout
the run of the show. The raffle will take place on Sunday after
closing.

"The Shriners will be staffing a bar at the show this year," Marianne
continued. "The money earned by the bar will go to the Shriners’
charities, also benefiting children. And we have a Mexican woman coming
to prepare and sell food. You really have to come to the show hungry
for two things, art and delicious things to eat.

"In addition, I’ve cajoled Banamex, the nation-wide Mexican bank, to provide copies of Great Masters of Mexican Folk Art,
for us to sell at the show. This magnificent book that the bank
published nearly ten years ago is no longer readily available to the
public. It’s required reading for collectors and interested devotees of
Mexican folk art.

Neftalí Ayungua Suárez at work in his pottery shop.

"The book honors the enduring tradition of folk art by featuring
beautiful photos of more than 500 works of art by 181 of Mexico’s
greatest living folk artists, several of whom have already exhibited at
Maestros del Arte. This year, the Feria expects to host nine of
those featured artists.

Marianne ran her hands over a beautiful hand carved wooden mask
on her dining table and continued, "Over a two-year period, Banamex
representatives visited communities all over Mexico and a group of
master artisans were selected to represent all parts of the country.
Now works by those artists are on display in U.S. museums. The intent
of this wonderful book published by the bank was to preserve folk art
traditions by making the work of these artists commercially viable. Our
show supports and continues that goal."

Marianne leaned forward in her chair and spoke quietly. "The whole
focus of this show is the individual artist. It’s unthinkable that
these artists’ traditional crafts could die out. So many of the young
people in the villages are no longer interested in continuing their
cultural heritage by studying what their mothers and fathers create. Of
course the next generation has to earn a steady living, that’s
undeniable. That’s why it’s so important to give artists a venue to
become better known and to sell their work. Preserving traditions is so
crucial to our knowing who we are and where we come from.

 
Clay spheres hand made by Martín Ibarra of the state of Jalisco.  Sr. Ibarra will be at the 2007 Feria de Maestros del Arte.

"Plus, of course, the public has the pleasure of buying
directly from the artisan, receiving the work of art from the hands
that created it. When I can look at a mask, or a piece of pottery, or a
hand painted tin ornament and say, ‘So-and-so made that, I remember the
day she showed it to me,’ my heart fills up with joy. My folk art
collection is about a personal connection between me and the artist and
the piece of art I buy from him or her. A piece of art that I love is
all the more meaningful because of that human connection. That’s just
one of the many joys of having the artists right here with us at the
show.

"It’s about passion. It’s about preservation. It’s about learning. What
we learn from the artisans is enormous: insight into tradition and
culture, insight into old ways of life and how they’re transformed with
the passage of years, insight into what really goes into the creation
of works of art like those at the show."

Marianne smiled. "And more than anything else, it’s about
Mexico. For those of us who live here, it’s about a deeper connection
with the country we’ve chosen. For visitors and full time residents as
well, it’s an education in the reality of traditional life here."

For more information about the fourth annual Feria Maestros del Arte, see: Maestros del Arte

Panteón, Noche de Muertos (Cemetery, Night of the Dead)in Michoacán.  Photo, 2006, by Ken Kuster, Morelia.

Several weeks ago Francisco (a friend from Michoacán) and I were
talking about differences in cultural attitudes among citizens of
Canada, the United States, and Mexico. We ended by discussing the Noche de Muertos (Night of the Dead) customs here in Mexico.

Francisco told me that before the Spanish conquerors, Mesoamerican
natives considered death to just be a simple step toward a new life.
Life was a circle: time before birth, time here on earth, time after
death constituted a continuum with no end, like a golden ring on a
finger. Communication between the spirit life of the living and the
dead was an ordinary experience.

With the arrival of the Spanish and their Christian beliefs, the
indigenous people were taught new ideas. Thoughts of death produced
terror: in the final judgment, the just would receive their reward and
sinners their punishment. The difficulty lay in not being counted among
the sinners.

The original pre-Hispanic remembrance celebration of the dead took place during the Aztec calendar month dedicated to Mictecacihuatl,
the goddess of the dead. That month of the Aztec calendar corresponds
to present-day July and the beginning of August. Post-conquest Spanish
priests moved the celebration to coincide with the eve of All Souls
Day, which falls on November 2. It was a useless attempt to change what
the Spaniards regarded as a profane New World festivity of mumbo-jumbo
into a Christian solemn occasion. The modern day result is a festival
characterized by a mix of Aztec and Catholic ritual—a purely Mexican
event.

In the late 1800’s, José Guadalupe Posada popularized the notion of death partying through life.

Today in Mexico, death is played with, made fun of, and partied with.
We throw our arms around it in a wickedly sardonic embrace and escape
its return embrace with a side-step, a wink, and a joke.

Noche de Muertos (Night of the Dead) is celebrated during the
chilly night of November 1, ending in the misty dawn hours of November
2. For Mexicans, the celebration represents something more than maudlin
veneration of their dead relatives. The celebrations of Memorial Day in
the United States or Remembrance Day in Canada are all too frequently
devoted to a fleeting moment’s thought of those who have gone before,
with the rest of the day passed in picnicking and the anticipation of
the soon-to-arrive summer holidays. In many parts of Mexico, the living
spend the entire night in communion with the faithful departed, telling
stories, swapping jokes, wiping away a tear or two.

The idea that death is found in the midst of life (and life in the
midst of death) has given rise to different manifestations of
extraordinary and original expressions of popular art in Mexico. Among
those are the custom of making and decorating sugar skulls (often with
the name of a friend or relative written across the forehead), pan de muertos (bread of the dead), drawings in which much fun is poked at death, and calaveras,
verses in which living and dead personalities—usually celebrities in
the arts, sciences and especially in politics—are skewered by their own
most glaring traits and defects. We wait impatiently for the newspapers
to give us the most hilarious of the annual poems.

Traditionally, ofrendas (personalized altars) are prepared
in the home in honor of one or more deceased family members. The altar
is prepared with the deceased person’s favorite foods, photographs, and
symbolic flowers. Traditions vary from community to community.

In Michoacán, the altar may be decorated with special breads and
bananas. In Oaxaca, other foods and fruits are used.  It’s most common to decorate an altar with hot pink and deep purple papel picado (cut tissue paper) as well as with foods, flowers, and personal objects important to the deceased.

In many places, public ofrendas are set up in the town
square, the local Casa de la Cultura, or in shops. Many public altars honor
national heroes, personalities from the arts, and little-known friends
or well-known public figures.

We use bottles of beer or tequila or another of the dead
person’s favorite drinks, a packet of cigarettes or a cigar, a prayer
card featuring the deceased’s name-saint and another of the apparition
of the Virgin to whom the deceased was particularly devoted.

Foods on the altar can include a dish filled with mole poblano or other festive food that the deceased enjoyed in life, a pot of frijoles de la olla (freshly cooked beans), platters of tamales, pan dulce
(sweet bread), and piles of newly harvested corn, pears, oranges,
limes, and any other bounty from the family’s fields or garden. The
purpose of the offerings is not to flatter and honor to the dead, but
rather to share the joy and power of the year’s abundance with him or
her.

Dolls made of cartón (cardboard) are usually sold at special markets specifically devoted to Day of the Dead items.  The cempasúchil (gold flowers) and the cordón del obispo (bishop’s belt, the magenta flowers) adorn most graves and ofrendas (altars honoring the deceased).

The fresh flower most commonly used everywhere in Mexico to decorate both home altars and at the cemetery is the cempasúchil, a type of marigold. According to my friend Francisco, the cempasúchil represents reverence for the dead. Wild mountain orchids, in abundant bloom at this time of year and cut especially for the Noche de Muertos,
signify reverence toward God. Dahlias, the floral symbol of Mexico, are
also used profusely on both home altars and in cemeteries. In addition,
huge standing coronas (wreaths) of colorful ribbons and
artificial flowers adorned with lithographs of saints, various
manifestations of the Virgin Mary, or Jesus are used more and more
frequently in Mexican cemeteries.

Because the social atmosphere of this celebration is so warm and so
colorful—and due to the abundance of food, drink, and good company—the
commemoration of Noche de Muertos
is much loved by the majority of those who observe it. In spite of the
openly fatalistic attitude exhibited by all participants, the
celebration is filled with life and is a social ritual of the highest
importance. Recognition of the cycle of life and death reminds everyone
of his or her mortality.

Catrines, in this case clay figures of well-dressed skeletons, represent the vanity of life and the inescapable reality of death.

On the day of November 1 (and frequently for several days
before) families all over Mexico go to the cemetery to clean and
decorate the graves of their loved ones. With brooms, shears, hoes,
buckets, metal scrapers and paint, the living set to work to do what
needs to be done to leave the grave site spotless.

Is the iron fence around the plot rusty? Scrape it and paint it till it
looks brand new. Are there overgrown weeds or bushes? Chop them out,
cut them back. Have dead leaves and grass collected at the headstone?
Now is the time to sweep them all out. There is usually much lamenting
that the grave site has been allowed to deteriorate so much throughout
the year—this year we won’t let that happen again, will we?

Sugar skulls are a Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) tradition in
Mexico.  Buy one and have the name of your friend written on the
forehead with stiff sugary icing.  Your friend will be delighted with
the gift.

In many places, November 1 is celebrated as the Day of the Little
Angels—the little children who have died. In Michoacán on the Day of
the Little Angels, the baptismal godparents are responsible for
bringing a wooden frame for the flowers, for bringing the cempasúchil
and the wild orchids. The godparents bring sugar angels or animals
similar to the sugar skulls. They may also bring new clothing for the
dead child, and a new toy or two. At the parents’ home, preparation of
food and drink is underway so that family and friends may be served. Cohetes (booming sky rockets) announce that the procession, singing and praying, is proceeding to the cemetery.

In the late evening of November 1, girls and women arrive at the graves
of adults with baskets and bundles and huge clay casseroles filled with
the favorite foods of the deceased. A bottle or two of brandy or
tequila shows up under someone’s arm. Someone else brings a radio and
wires it up to play.

Watch a bit of the tradition: Day of the Dead in Mexico

A tiny sugar skeleton band, made in Michoacán for the Noche de Muertos.

In another part of the cemetery, a band appears to help make the
moments spent in the cemetery more joyful and to play the dead
relatives’ favorite songs. Sometimes families and friends adjourn to a
nearby home to continue the party. There’s even a celebrated dicho (saying) that addresses the need for this fiesta: "El muerto al cajón y el vivo al fiestón." (The dead to the coffin and the living to the big blowout.")

The lake is made of flower petals!  Photo by Ken Kuster, Morelia.

Although the traditional observance of Noche de Muertos
calls for a banquet either at the cemetery or at home during the
pre-dawn hours of November 2, urban families in Mexico may simply
observe the Day of the Dead rather than spend the night in the
cemetery.

Their observance is frequently limited to a special family dinner which includes pan de muertos
(bread of the dead). In some areas of the country, it’s considered good
luck to be the person who bites down on the toy plastic skeleton hidden
by the bakery in each round loaf.

Friends and members of the family give one another little gifts
which can include tiny clay skeletons dressed in clothing or set in
scenes which represent the occupations or personality characteristics
of the receiver. The gift that’s most appreciated is a calavera
(sugar skull), decorated with sugar flowers, sparkling sequins, and the
name of the recipient written in frosting across the cranium.

The pre-Hispanic concept of death as an energy link, as a germ
of life, may very well explain how the skull came to be a symbol of
death. That symbol has been recreated and assimilated in all aspects of
Mexican life. The word calavera
can also refer to a person whose existence is dedicated to
pleasure—someone who does not take life seriously. The mocking poems of
this season, the caricatures drawn with piercingly funny accuracy, the
sugar skulls joyfully eaten by the person whose name they carry: all of
these are an echo of pre-Hispanic thought, inherited by Mexico today.

From Guanajato: skeletal figures made of cartón (cardboard).

This tradition which recognizes that death is a part of the circle of
life brings ease and rest to the living. Hearts heal, souls reaffirm
their connections. Though beyond our view, the dead are never beyond
our memories.  On the night of November 1, the living remember the dead and the dead remember the taste of home.

El abanico (the fan), one of the most popular routines in the escaramuza competition.  All eight team members circle the ruedo (interior of the arena) with their horses equidistant from one another, in the form of a fan.

Charrería is the Mexican style of traditional Spanish horsemanship that developed in central and northern Mexico under the hacienda system. Following the breakup of the haciendas by the Mexican revolutionaries, the charros saw their traditions slipping away. They met in 1921 to form the Asociación Nacional de Charros to keep the charrería tradition alive. The most visible of these efforts was the establishment of the charreada style of rodeo.

Charrería is completely distinct from any other kind of event in
the world. The arena is built to the specifications of the
horsemanship competition  Built in the shape of a
'U', the lienzo charro (events ring) has all the seating at the closed end of the 'U' and space for
the events within the open end. 

A charreada is held within a marked-off area of an arena with a
lane 12 meters wide by 60 meters long leading into a circle 40 meters
in diameter. Charreada is highly ritualized and follows a particular sequence of events. The participants must wear traditional charro
clothing while performing. Preceding the events is an opening ceremony
in which the organizations and participants parade into the arena on
horseback, usually accompanied by a band playing "The Zacatecas March".

The gran desfile (opening parade) on October 14 at the Campeonato Nacional de Charrería 2007 (National Charro Championships 2007) being held in Morelia, Michoacán from October 10 through October 28. 

There are nine separate suertes (tests of horsemanship) in a full charreada event.  Each test is based on a skill needed to perform normal ranch work.

Cala de Caballo (test of the horse): The charro puts his horse though various commands to demonstrate his ability and the horse's training.

Piales en Lienzo or Piales (arena roping): A
horseman must throw a lariat out, let a wild horse (or bull, or steer)
run through the loop, catching it by the hind legs within three
tries—all without watching the animal as it comes up behind him.

Colas en Lienzo or Coleadera (arena bull tailing):
Steer wrestling, also known as bull dogging, is a rodeo event that
features a steer and two mounted cowboys, along with a number of
supporting characters. The steers are moved through narrow pathways
leading to a chute with spring loaded doors. A 10 foot rope is fastened
around the steer's neck which is used to ensure that the steer gets a
head start. On one side of the chute is the hazer whose job is to ride
parallel with the steer and ensure it runs in a straight line. The charro grabs the steer's tail as the animal darts from the chute, twisting the tail to take the steer down onto the ground.   

Jineteo de Toro (bull riding): Bull riding is a rodeo
sport that involves a rider getting on a 1,000 and 2,500 pound bull
which is held in a small enclosure called a bucking chute. The rider
tightly fastens one hand to the bull with a long woven leather rope.
When the rider says he is ready, the gate of the bucking chute is
opened and the bull bursts out and attempts to throw or buck off the
rider.

The terna.  The charros have the bull subdued by the neck and rear legs and are about to tie all four feet together.

Terna (trial): A team roping event in which three charros
attempt to rope a bull; one by its neck, one by its hind legs, and the
last then ties its feet together; all within eight minutes.

Jineteo de Yegua (bareback riding on an unbroken mare): Bronco riding in Mexico, either as saddle bronco or bareback bronco, involves a rider getting on an untamed horse or bronco,
weighing between 800 and 1,500 pounds.  In a charreada, these horses are all mares.  In the bucking chute the rider
tightly grips a handle which is strapped to the horse. When the rider
says he is ready, the gate of the bucking chute is opened and the horse
bursts out and attempts to throw or buck off the rider.

Mangana (a pie) or Piales (roping on foot): A charro on foot attempts to rope a wild mare by its front legs, bringing it down.

The floreo (exhibition of roping techniques) is part of the mangana a pie y a caballo.  The charro twirls the rope in fancy patterns while he waits–without watching–for the mare to circle the ring a a full-out gallop.

Mangana (a caballo) (roping from horseback): A charro on horseback attempts to rope a wild mare by her front legs–first by one foreleg, then by two–bringing it down.

Paso de la Muerte (pass of death) The competitor gallops
bareback on his own horse next to an unbroken mare. With the help of
three mounted ring assistants working to keep the mare in place, he
attempts to leap from his own horse to the bare back of a wild horse
and then grasp the mane and ride it until it stops.

The individual suertes sound quite simple, but in reality every one is extremely complicated.  A detailed description of the hundreds of rules and regulations of charrería is here.  There is a regulation and a rule for everything from the kind of shirt and tie a charro must wear in a competition to the infractions for using a plastic rope.  The website is entirely in Spanish, but a glance at page upon page of rules will give you some insight into the complexity of the Mexican national sport.

Eight escaramuza teammates ride an intricately choreographed pattern.  Remember that the young women are riding sidesaddle!  Their costumes are as colorful as their routines.

In addition to the men's events, there is also an event for women known as escaramuza (skirmish). During this event, teams of eight women dressed in 19th Century charra clothing (and riding side saddle) perform a variety of precision riding techniques while riding at break-neck speeds. The escaramuza is usually featured between the coleadera and the jineteo de toros.  Escaramuza is the most colorful and exciting part of the charreada, although the men's final suerte, paso de la muerte usually has my heart in my throat.

No Mexican sporting event is complete without tequila.  Vendors ply the aisles selling straight shots, as mixed drinks, or by the bottle.

My companion and I were thrilled to attend the Campeonato Nacional de Charrería 2007 on Sunday night, October 14.  It was her first charro competition, but certainly not her, or my, last.