Category: Religion

Día y Noche de los Muertos en México: Day and Night of the Dead in Mexico :: A Preview of Customs

Highly decorated, very large cartonería (cardboard) skull for Noche de Muertos. One of these might be placed on a home ofrenda (altar) dedicated to the person of one's choice.

Panteón Municipal (Municipal Cemetery), Tzintzuntzan, Michoacán. In recent years, grave decoration has included traditional flowers, candles, and modern plastic wreaths, all of which you see in this photo. The white flowers in cans are nube (babies' breath) and clavel (carnations); the gold flowers are cempasúchil, and the wine-colored flowers are pata de león (cockscomb), all traditional. The wreaths are plastic flowers.

Mexico Cooks! will be touring Morelia and surrounding areas again during this special time of year. We'll be attending one or another special Noche de Muertos event every day for an entire week. Traditional ofrendas (altars dedicated to the dead), spectacular crafts exhibits, concerts, and annual concursos (contests) will fill our days and nights. Known in most parts of Mexico as Día de los Muertos (the Day of the Dead), here in Michoacán we call it Noche de los Muertos (Night of the Dead). By either name, the festival as it's celebrated in Mexico is unique in the world.

These four-inch-long skeletal figures, laid out on their petates (woven reed mats), are hooked up to intravenous bottles of either beer or tequila! They are given as gifts or added to a loved one's home ofrenda.

Tiny sugar footwear, in styles from baby booties to high-heeled pumps, are ready to be given as gifts to special friends or for placement on an ofrenda.

Mexico celebrates death as it celebrates life, with extreme enjoyment in the simplest things. Life and death are both honored and natural states.

The home ofrenda (altar) may memorialize a cherished relative, a political figure (either reviled or beloved), a pet, or a figure from the entertainment world. Traditional decorations include cempasúchil (marigold) and cordón del obispo (cockscomb) flowers, which are used in profusion in churches, cemeteries, and homes. Here in central Michoacán, wild orchids, blooming at this time of year, are also used to decorate graves, primarily in rural areas.

Sugar skulls are often inscribed in icing with a living friend's name and given to that person as a small token of admiration.

In October 2010, Chepo, my long-time cat companion, died. For Noche de Muertos, I created this ofrenda in his honor. It includes his favorite cat food (bottom left corner), his favorite toy (that little white pipe cleaner spring at the bottom right corner), candles, a sugar mouse, and a sugar fish, several photos of him, a big sugar cat between the photos, a large butterfly in remembrance of the many enormous dark-brown moths that he caught and delivered to me, and his ashes, in the wooden box at center. Click on the photo to enlarge it for a better view.

Relatives take favorite foods and beverages to the grave of a loved one gone before. It's said that the dead partake of the spirit of the food, while the living enjoy the physical treats at the cemetery. Mexican friends tell me, "In the morning, after our night-long vigil at the cemetery, we do eat the food that has been on the grave all night, waiting for our relatives to return from the más allá (the great beyond). The funny thing is that the food has no taste at all; our deceased relatives have eaten all the flavor–the flavor of home."

Pan de muertos (bread of the dead) is typically decorated with bone-shaped bread and sprinkled with sugar. The bread itself is flavored with orange and anise. In Michoacán, pan de muertos in the shape of human beings is often hung on ofrendas both in a private home or in a cemetery.

This miniature ofrenda (altar) is filled with tiny representations of treats that the deceased loved in life. Click on any photo for a larger view.

Several years ago, an article in the New York Times quoted Mexico Cooks! about the Noche de los Muertos: "There's a mutual nostalgia. The living remember the dead, and the dead remember the taste of home." That nostalgia imbues the cities and villages of Michoacán at this time of year just as surely as do woodsmoke and the scent of toasting tortillas.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours. And be sure to book your Mexico Cooks! 2020 Dia/Noche de los Muertos tour as soon as possible! We'll reserve space for you and your group to make sure you don't miss anything!

19 de October de 2019
Purhépecha Creation Legend :: Lo Que el Lago Me Contó :: What the Lake Told Me

Fishermen on Lake Pátzcuaro. Photo by Earl Leaf (1952), Michael Ochs Archives, courtesy Getty Images. Unless otherwise noted, all photos copyright Mexico Cooks!.

Mexico's state of Michoacán is a patchwork of cool pine-forested mountains bathed in freshwater streams and lakes, rocky surfers' paradises along the Pacific Ocean coast, and the Tierra Caliente, the hot, dry lowlands. The indigenous Purhépecha population, the largest of the four indigenous communities who live in this state, still retain many of their traditions and customs in today's 21st century life.

In the beginning, nothing existed. Everything was total darkness. Nothing was heard, nothing was seen, nothing moved. Everything was a great circle, without beginning and without end. Much time passed. Finally from the depth of the nothing and the darkness came a tiny ray of light. The small light ray grew until it formed a huge ball of fire which illuminated the darkness. From that great fire rose up Kurhikaueri, the giver of fire, who overcame the darkness with his enormous force of light. The father of the sun.

Their kingdom, centered in the town of Tzintzuntzan on the shores of Lake Pátzcuaro, is said to have been an advanced and prosperous civilization as early as 900 A.D.

Less is known anthropologically about the historical antecedents of the Purhépecha than about any other important Mexican group (the Olmecs, the Toltecs, and the Aztecs, for example). The Purhépecha had no written language and therefore kept no written record of their lives, culture, or activities. All of their history is extrapolated from post-first contact documents written by the Spanish. The Purhépecha language was established long before the arrival of the Spanish and is in no way related to any other indigenous language of Mexico–or to any other language in the world.

When the great collision occurred between the dark and the fire, four huge rays of light arose which were separated into four different points. Where each ray of light ended, four stars remained as permanent signs and four rays remained as the four paths which divided the newborn Universe.

In the early 1500s, the Lake Pátzcuaro basin had a population between 60,000 and 100,000 inhabitants spread among 91 separate settlements ranging over 25,000 square miles. Purhépecha government was strong, with effective social, economic, and administrative structure. A strong religion with many gods and goddesses underlay and supported the society.

Purhépecha woman selling flor de calabaza (squash flowers) from a wheelbarrow in Paracho, Michoacán.

What happened to the Purhépecha and their strong kingdom?

On February 23, 1521, the first Spanish soldier appeared on the borders of Michoacán. Even before this, however, the effects of the Spanish invasion had begun to be felt among the Purhépecha. The previous year, a slave infected with smallpox had come ashore after crossing the Atlantic Ocean with the army of Spaniard Pánfilo de Naravaez and had triggered a widespread and disastrous smallpox epidemic.

Tzuiangua, the Purhépecha calzonci (king) died in the smallpox epidemic of 1520. Measles and other diseases came along with the earliest Spaniards and led to further reductions in population. Partly as a result of these catastrophes, the young, newly-invested calzonci Tzintzicha Tangaxoana chose to accept Spanish sovereignty when the first Spanish soldiers arrived, rather than suffer the fate of Tenochtitlán, the grand Aztec pyramid city located near present-day Mexico City. As evidence of his submission, he accepted baptism and brought Franciscan missionaries into the region under his protection.

It is unclear whether the new young king did not fully understand the Spaniards' intentions and how their system worked, whether he thought he could pull the proverbial wool over their eyes, whether he was poorly advised, or some combination of the three.

The Spanish had intended to allow him to keep some symbolic measure of autonomy for himself and his empire as a reward for his cooperation. However, when the Spanish discovered that he was continuing to receive tribute from his subjects, they had him executed. On February 14, 1530, the last native king of the Purépecha was put to death at the hands of the conquerers.

So begins the mystical creation history of the Purhépecha people and Lake Pátzcuaro, the center of their spirituality. Still numerous and active in the modern world, the Purépecha maintain much of their supernatural culture in spite of the intrusion of globalization and the present-day world. The mid-20th Century, Mexican-Irish muralist Juan O'Gorman painted the history of the Purhépecha nation in the Pátzcuaro public library, still open on the Plaza Gertrudis Bocanegra (Pátzcuaro's small plaza). The mural depicts O'Gorman's vision of pre- and post-Spanish invasion Purhépecha life.

Just at this moment, Kurhikaueri began to work intensely with his light-filled hands. He molded a sphere from a ray of light, he hung it in space, and gave it the mission to illuminate the Universe. He named it Tata Jurhiata, the Lord Sun. Soon Kurhikaueri noticed that the light from the Lord Sun was monotonous and still, and Kurhikaueri thought of giving the Lord Sun a wife to help him light up the Universe. Thus he formed Nana Kutsi, the Lady Moon. Tata Jurhiata watched while Kurhikaueri molded Nana Kutsi, and she noticed him as well. In that way, love was born. Like all lovers, they dreamed of a way to meet one another. One time they met in the dominion of the moon and another in the dominion of the sun, and that is how the eclipses were produced. From their union, their daughter Kuerajperi was born.

This carved cantera (stone) statue of Bishop don Vasco de Quiroga stands at the side of the first hospital he founded in Michoacán, in Santa Fe de la Laguna, in 1533. Hospital, at that time, meant a center of hospitality, where weary travelers could rest and eat along their journey. The painted wall reads "Honor to Tata Vasco".

In 1533, don Vasco de Quiroga, a Spanish aristocrat, was installed as the first bishop of the province of Michoacán. At that time, the province was much larger than the present-day state. Don Vasco governed an area that encompassed over 27,000 square miles and 1.5 million people. Don Vasco oversaw the construction of three Spanish-style pueblos (towns), each of which included a hospital, as well as the great cathedral of Santa Ana in Morelia, numerous churches and schools, and founded the Colegio de San Nicolás Obispo (College of St. Nicholas the Bishop), the first school in all of the Americas. Quiroga is immensely important not only to the history of Michoacán but also specifically to the Purhépecha nation.

In The Christianization of the Purhépecha by Bernardino Verastique (pp. 92-109), the author states that the primary task assigned to Quiroga was to "rectify the disorder in which Niño de Guzmán had left the province after the assassination of the cazonci." Unlike Guzmán, who was a viciously murderous and enslaving conqueror, Quiroga was largely benevolent. He assumed a pastoral role of protector, spiritual father, judge, and confessional physician to the Purépecha.

He organized the Purhépecha villages into groups modeled on Thomas More's Utopia and extended his territorial jurisdiction, which brought him into direct conflict with the Spanish encomenderos (land grant holders). Quiroga recognized that Christianizing the Purépecha depended upon preserving their language and understanding their world view. He promulgated a multicultural, visual, and multilingual access to Christianity.

Even the Purépecha nation's name is debatable. Erroneously called Tarascans since the Spanish conquest, in the last 40 years the Purhépecha have begun to reclaim the actual name of their community. The term 'tarasco' means brother-in-law in the Purhépecha language. The newly arrived Spanish heard that term and misunderstood, mistakenly believing that it was the name of the entire nation.

Descendants of the Purhépecha remain in Michoacán, particularly in the Lake Pátzcuaro area. The language is still spoken, though only by a fraction of the population. A written Purhépecha language has been devised and is used in a regional newspaper, in books, and as signage.

Olive trees planted by the Spanish nearly 500 years ago still thrive in the churchyard at Tzintzuntzan, the former Purhépecha capital, on the shore of Lake Pátzcuaro. Some of the trees measure nearly 15 feet in diameter. In villages nearby, Purhépecha descendants still produce the crafts of the old days: wood carving, copper smithing, pottery making, textile production, and weaving tule (also known as chuspata, a lake reed) weaving. The present-day town has a population of less than one-tenth of the Purhépecha capital at the height of its power, and it continues to lose many of its young people as they migrate in search of jobs to other Mexican cities and to the United States.

Grinding Michoacán's native blue corn using the metate (grinding stone) and metlapil (its rolling pin). I took this photo just a few years ago.

Anthropologists are of two minds concerning contemporary Purhépecha life. One group, the 'Hispanists', argues that the Purhépecha remnant has become primarily a Spanish-speaking Mexican peasant culture. Though they have maintained their language and some of their basic Mesoamerican cultural elements (in particular their diet of beans, squash, chiles, native corns, and other ingredients of their pre-first contact life), they have become Hispanicized with regard to their religious lives, their economy, and their forms of traditional or 'folk' knowledge. In contrast, the other group is more persuaded by the consistencies they see between traditional Mesoamerican culture and the modern-day life of the remaining Purhépecha. They note in particular the areas of relationship between language and culture, gender relations, socialization, and world view.

As time passed, Kuerajperi became a lovely young woman. Kurhikaueri, the giver of light, saw her and fell in love with her. He began to court her, and when he won her favor, he sent her four rays of light which remained on her forehead, on her womb, on her right hand and on her left hand. The lovely young woman was changed into Nana Kuerajperi, the mother of creation, who gave birth in a tremendous storm to all natural things: the Earth, the mountains, rivers, trees, flowers, and lakes. And that's how I was born, I was molded like a half moon with six beautiful islands. In this world, there is nothing more beautiful than I.

Today, more than 120,000 Purhépecha live in 16 municipalities in the Zona Lacustre (Lake Zone) and the Meseta Purépecha (Purépecha tableland) of Michoacán. Within those municipalites are numerous towns and villages. Most Purhépecha are bilingual. Generally the language spoken by the family at home is Purépecha. Children learn Spanish when they enter primary school. There are still approximately 10,000 Purhépecha who speak only their native language.

The present-day economy of the Purhépecha is based, for the most part, in agriculture. They grow native corn for their own use and grow wheat to sell. In the Zona Lacustre, a number of people still fish commercially.

Another significant source of income is the creation of arts and crafts. In the mid-16th century, don Vasco de Quiroga taught the Purépecha not only Christianity but also the idea of self-sufficiency based on the refined production of items for daily use: pottery, textile weaving, copper smelting, mask making, and wood carving, among others. The making of utilitarian items was in place long before the Spanish arrived; Tata Vasco sent for artisans from Spain to work with the Purhépecha to improve the items that were already being made. Approximately 40,000 families in Michoacán presently work at one form or another of artesanía.

Moreover, I have been given peaceful and crystalline waters, so crystal-clear that they are like a mirror, and that's how I am used. You see, my grandmother, Nana Kutsi, combs her long silver hair every night when her rays are reflected in my waters. By day, my grandfather, Tata Jurhiata, reflects his golden rays in my waters, forming sparkles of every color. I am the lake of the ages. I am Lake Pátzcuaro.

The ancient Purhépecha believed that the Universe was divided into three parts: the region of the heavens, the region of the Earth, and the region of the dead. Each region had its own set of gods. The most important gods were those of the first region–the heavens–and among those the most important were Kuerajperi, the Lord of LIght, and Xaratongo, the goddess of the moon.

Many Purépecha continue to live in small villages, in some respects isolated from culture other than their own. Their ancient homes, called trojes, are made of heavy, hand-hewn thick pine boards. Each room of a troje is separate from every other room. The kitchen, living quarters, sleeping and storage rooms are individual small buildings. Family trojes are rapidly being sold as weekend cabins and for other non-Purhépecha use, and the Purhépecha are living in more modern dwellings.

Entrance to the Templo del Señor del Rescate, in Tzintzuntzan, former seat of the Purhépecha empire.

Today, the Purhépecha practice a Catholicism colored by their reinterpretation of the teachings of the early Franciscan and Dominican missionaries. Many Purhépecha believe that God, the Virgin Mary, Jesus, and the saints have special powers which interact among them. The devil, in some of his manifestations, has an importance which goes beyond that of the saints.

Life for the Purhépecha today is a battle for survival, both economic and cultural. Physical survival depends on many factors, including money sent home by the sons and daughters of the pueblos who now work in Morelia (the state capital), Mexico City, Guadalajara, and in the United States.

Cultural survival is constantly assaulted by the influences of television, technological advances (everyone has a cellular phone, everyone reads and posts to Facebook), everyone is connected via Whatsapp and Messenger), print advertising, and innovations brought home by the sons and daughters who work 'away'.

Social and political activism are crucial to the continuation of the Purhépecha nation.

Spiritual survival depends on the handing down of the old ways, the old traditions, by a generation of elders that is fast disappearing. The question of how and how much to mix with the mestizo community is not an idle one, but one which must be addressed if the Purhépecha are to survive as more than a curiosity in the modern world.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.

25 de May de 2019
Good Friday Silent Procession of Penitence :: Procesión del Silencio, Morelia, Michoacán

Nuestra Señora de Dolores (Our Lady of Sorrows) leads the procession. Hooded members of various Catholic cofradías (confraternities, or religious organizations founded in Europe) carry life-size statues on their wooden platforms approximately three kilometers through Morelia's Centro Histórico.

Nuestra Señora de Dolores (detail).

Drummers marked the beat of Morelia's penitential Procesión del Silencio, Good Friday's silent procession commemorating both the crucifixion of Christ and his Mother's grief. Only the drumbeat breaks the silence along the route.

Jesus during la Oración en el Huerto (praying in the Garden of Gethsemane), just prior to his arrest on Holy Thursday night. Boy Scouts (like the young man in red at the bottom right of the photo) hold the protective rope all along the route of the procession.

Hundreds of cofradía members marched in the still of this Good Friday night. Foreigners, particularly those from the United States, are often shocked by the hoods, which seem to them to be tragic cultural reminders of the Ku Klux Klan. In Mexico, there is no association between the two. The procession is penitential and the hoods are a guarantee of anonymity and humility for the cofradía members. They believe that humility and works of charity are best practiced anonymously.

Semana Santa (Holy Week) cofradías originated in 9th century Europe as pious organizations and arrived in Mexico with the earliest Spanish settlers. The figures in the 2017 photo above are from Seville, Spain, and are made of white chocolate. Photo courtesy Jane Bachner King.

Roman soldiers.

The majority of Morelia's Procesión del Silencio takes place after dark, by candlelight.

The Legion of Christ carry their banner and their lamps. The Procesión del Silencio lasts about five hours. During that time, all of Morelia's Centro Histórico is closed to vehicular traffic.

Jesus carries the cross a cuestas (on his back) to Calvary. More than 50,000 spectators stand along the entire route of Morelia's Procesión del Silencio.

Candle holders are made of many materials, from crystal to styrofoam to metal.

Penitents from one of Morelia's confraternities carry their crosses the length of the procession. Many march barefoot through the city streets. This year, the procession celebrated more than 40 years' existence.

Robed and hooded members of another Catholic confraternity carry this image, the Cristo del Entierro (Christ of the Burial), nailed to the cross prior to his elevation. Hoods cover the faces of those who march as a sign of penitence.

Clothed in gold and black, these marching penitents carry huge metal torches.

Six men of all ages carry Cristo Muerto (the dead Christ), while six others follow as relief when the burden of the image, the platform, the lights, and the flowers becomes too heavy. The man at the far right of the photo carries one of two saw horses used to support the platform during occasional pauses in the procession.

At the end of the Procesión del Silencio, la Virgen de la Soledad (Our Lady of Solitude) follows the body of her crucified Son. The platform bearing her image holds burning candles, a purple and gold velvet canopy, and banks of fresh flowers.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.

20 de April de 2019
Special Lenten Foods in Mexico :: Lent (Cuaresma), March 6 Until April 18, 2019

One year during Lent in Chiapas, Mexico Cooks! ate tortitas de papa (potato croquettes, left) and frijoles negros (black beans, right), ideal for a Lenten meal.

Catholic Mexicans observe la Cuaresma (Lent), the 40-day (excluding Sundays) penitential season that precedes Easter, with special prayers, vigils, and with extraordinary meatless meals cooked only on Ash Wednesday and during Lent. Many Mexican dishes–seafood, vegetable, and egg–are normally prepared without meat, but some other meatless dishes are particular to Lent. Known as comida cuaresmeña, many of these delicious Lenten foods are little-known outside Mexico and some other parts of Latin America.

Many observant Catholics believe that the personal reflection and meditation demanded by Lenten practices are more fruitful if the individual refrains from heavy food indulgence and makes a promise to abstain from other common habits such as eating candy, smoking cigarettes, and drinking alcohol.

Atole de grano, a Michoacán specialty made of tender corn and licorice-scented anís, is a perfect cena (supper) for Lenten Fridays.

Lent began this year on Ash Wednesday, March 6. Shortly before, certain food specialties began to appear in local markets.Vendors are currently offering very large dried shrimp for caldos (broths) and tortitas (croquettes), perfect heads of cauliflower for tortitas de coliflor (cauliflower croquettes), seasonal romeritos, and thick, dried slices of bolillo (small loaves of white bread) for capirotada (a kind of bread pudding).

This common Lenten preparation is romeritos en mole.  Romeritos, an acidic green vegetable, are in season at this time of year. Although romeritos look a little like rosemary, their consistency is soft and their taste is relatively sour, more like verdolagas (purslane).

Here are raw romeritos that I saw recently at the Mercado de Jamaica in Mexico City.You can see that they do look like rosemary, but the thin leaves are soft, more like a succulent.

You'll usually see tortitas de camarón (dried shrimp croquettes) paired for a Friday comida (midday meal) with romeritos en mole, although they are sometimes bathed in a caldillo de jitomate (tomato broth) and served with sliced nopalitos (cactus paddles).

During Lent, the price of fish and seafood in Mexico goes through the roof due to the huge seasonal demand for meatless meals. These beautiful huachinango (red snapper) come from Mexico's Pacific coast.

Chef Martín Rafael Mendizabal of La Trucha Alegre in Zitacuaro, Michoacán, prepared trucha deshuesada con agridulce de guayaba (boned trout with guava sweet and sour sauce) for the V Encuentro de Cocina Tradicional de Michoacán held annually in Morelia. The dish would be ideal for an elegant Lenten dinner.

Capirotada (kah-pee-roh-TAH-dah, Lenten bread pudding) is almost unknown outside Mexico. Simple to prepare and absolutely delicious, it's hard to eat it sparingly if you're trying to keep a Lenten abstinence! This photo shows capirotada as served by Carmen Titita Ramírez Degollado at the El Bajío restaurants in Mexico City.

Every family makes a slightly different version of capirotada: a pinch more of this, leave out that, add such-and-such.  Mexico Cooks! prefers to leave out the apricots and add dried pineapple. Make it once and then tweak the recipe to your preference–but please do stick with traditional ingredients.

A huge pile of piloncillo for sale at the Mercado de Jamaica. On the left are large cones of light brown piloncillo, in the middle are small cones, and on the right are large cones of dark brown piloncillo. You choose which you want!

CAPIROTADA (Mexican Bread Pudding)

Ingredients

*4 bollilos, in 1" slices (small loaves of dense white bread)
5 stale tortillas
150 grams pecans
50 grams prunes
100 grams raisins
200 grams peanuts
100 grams dried apricots
1 large apple, peeled and sliced thin
100 grams grated Cotija cheese
Peel of one orange, divided for two uses
*3 cones piloncillo (Mexican brown sugar)
Four 3" pieces of Mexican stick cinnamon
2 cloves
Butter
Salt

*If you don't have bolillo, substitute slices of very dense French bread. If you don't have piloncillo, substitute 1/2 cup tightly packed brown sugar.

A large metal or clay baking dish.

Preparation

Preheat the oven to 300°F.

Toast the bread and spread with butter. Slightly overlap the tortillas in the bottom and along the sides of the baking dish to make a base for the capirotada. Prepare a thin syrup by boiling the piloncillo in 2 1/2 cups of water with a few shreds of cinnamon sticks, 2/3 of the orange peel, the cloves, and a pinch of salt.

Place the layers of bread rounds in the baking dish so as to allow for their expansion as the capirotada cooks. Lay down a layer of bread, then a layer of nuts, prunes, raisins, peanuts and apricots. Continue until all the bread is layered with the rest. For the final layer, sprinkle the capirotada with the grated Cotija cheese and the remaining third of the orange peel (grated). Add the syrup, moistening all the layers little by little. Reserve a portion of the syrup to add to the capirotada in case it becomes dry during baking.

Bake uncovered until the capirotada is golden brown and the syrup is absorbed. The bread will expand as it absorbs the syrup. Remember to add the rest of the syrup if the top of the capirotada looks dry, and reserve plenty of syrup to pour over each serving.

Cool the capirotada to room temperature. Do not cover until it is cool; even after it is cooled, leave the top ajar.

Try very hard not to eat the entire pan of capirotada at one sitting!

A positive thought for this Lent: give up discouragement, be an optimist.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.

9 de March de 2019
San Judas Tadeo (Saint Jude Thaddeus) in Mexico City :: Searching for a Way Out of the Impossible

Mexico City's Templo San Hipólito, built starting in 1559 to commemorate the 1520 victory of the Mexica (later known as the Aztecs) over the Spanish invaders in a battle that became known as la Batalla de la Noche Triste (the Battle of the Sad Night), one of the worst defeats the Spanish suffered at the hands of the people they subsequently conquered. The church was finished late in the 17th century.

The church location has been a major influence in Mexico City since those early times. San Hipólito was the first patron saint of Mexico's capital city. Prior to the building of the church, the first mental hospital in the Americas, founded by Fray Bernardino Álvarez, stood on this corner. Today, Mexico City has a psychiatric hospital named for Fray Bernardino and located in Tlalpan, in the southern part of the city.

A prayer card image of St. Jude Thaddeus, patron saint of difficult or impossible causes. Your Catholic mother or grandmother–or maybe you yourself–might have an image like this tucked in your wallet or into a Bible.

Not your grandmother's version of St. Jude. Photo courtesy Tattoomuch.com.

Today, Templo San Hipólito is the site of enormous devotion to Saint Jude Thaddeus, known in Spanish as San Judas Tadeo. The most venerated statue of the saint in Mexico is here, and Mexico is deeply devoted to him and to his image. San Judas's feast day is celebrated on October 28 each year, when as many as 100,000 faithful converge on the small church. The huge number of faithful who visit their beloved saint–starting with the first Mass celebrated at midnight–inevitably cause chaotic traffic jams at the corner where the church is located, one of the busiest junctions in Mexico City.

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yoEsO7rDFoA&w=420&h=315]
The video will give you an idea of Mexico City's tremendous devotion to the patron saint of impossible causes. That devotion to San Judas in Mexico City is so great that his feast day is celebrated not only on October 28 each year, but also on the 28th of every month. My first visit was one July 28, when a friend and I visited the saint on his day.

Merchandise sold by vendors around the perimeter of the church–merchandise like these rosaries–is often colored green, white, and gold, the traditional colors of San Judas's clothing.

My companion and I arrived at Templo San Hipólito relatively early, but people had been pouring into the church for each Mass of the day; on the 28th of every month, Masses are said on the hour, all day. This view, from outside the church entrance, did not prepare us for the packed sanctuary.

Once we entered the sanctuary, we were unable to advance beyond the half-way point due to the enormous number of people already inside. At the top middle of this photo, you see a very large statue of the Virgin Mary. Below her is San Judas.

Unlike predominately female crowds at Masses in other churches or at prayer services devoted to other saints, the majority of this crowd is male. While women are certainly present, you can see in the photo that the people in front of us were almost all male.

Custom here is to wrap a figure of San Judas in scarves, scapulars, beads, and medals. When I asked this woman, seated on a bench along the inside of the church, if I might take a picture of her statue, she said yes, but bowed her head to show him, not herself. It's also customary to take small gifts, such as the candy this woman is holding, to share with others at the church.

St. Mar
tín de Porres is also much-venerated in Mexico. This life-size statue of him, holding a real broom, is at one side of the San Hipólito interior. Notice that much of the broom straw has been broken off and taken by the faithful as mementos. Click on the photo (and any photo) to enlarge it.

This young man gave me permission to photograph him and his statue.

Many faithful parents dress their babies in the green, gold, and white colors of the saint. Usually they have made a vow to St. Jude to do this in thanks for a favor granted; oftentimes, the favor granted is the birth of a healthy child after a prolonged period of difficulty conceiving, or after complications of pregnancy.

The man who carried this elaborately wrapped statue during the entire Mass set it on a stone wall so that I could photograph it.

Vendors along the sidewalks sell every kind of St. Jude-related goods. People carry these candles into the church to be blessed, and then carry them home to light their personal altars dedicated to the saint.

We visited many of the booths selling figures of San Judas. The sizes range from about six inches high–like the ones at the left in the front row–to life size or larger. The seated figure just right of center represents Jesús Malverde, an 'informal' saint (one revered by the people but not a saint in the church). Jesús Malverde, a Sinaloa legend, is also known as the 'narco saint', the 'angel of the poor', or the 'generous bandit'. The green sign refers to the copitas (little goblets) filled with San Judas's seeds of abundance just above it. Each goblet with seeds costs 10 pesos. That's approximately 60 US cents, at today's exchange rate.

Feeling like your world is standing on its head and pulling yourself together is impossible? You might want to try a chat with St. Jude.

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23 de February de 2019
The Feast of the Three Kings on January 6 :: Rosca and Reyes and the Journey to La Candelaria

Most Mexicans eat traditional rosca de reyes (Three Kings' Bread) on January 6. Its usual accompaniment is chocolate caliente (hot chocolate).

The Día de los Reyes Magos (the Feast of the Three Kings) falls on January 6 each year. You might know the Christian feast day as Epiphany or as Little Christmas. The festivities celebrate the arrival of the Three Kings at Bethlehem to visit the newborn Baby Jesus. In some cultures, children receive gifts not on Christmas, but on the Feast of the Three Kings–and the Kings are the gift-givers, commemorating the gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh that they presented to the Baby Jesus. Many, many children in Mexico still receive special gifts of toys from the Reyes (Kings) on January 6

Typically, Mexican families celebrate the festival with a rosca de reyes (Three Kings' Bread). The size of the family's rosca varies according to the size of the family, but everybody gets a slice, from the littlest toddler to great-grandpa. Accompanied by a cup of chocolate caliente (hot chocolate) or an atole (a corn masa (dough) thickened, hot and often fruit-flavored drink), it's a great winter treat.

A friend who lives and works in the northern state of Tamaulipas recently wrote a bit about the significance of the rosca. He wrote, "The rosca de reyes represents a crown; the colorful fruits simulate the jewels which covered the crowns of the Holy Kings. The Kings themselves signify peace, love, and happiness. The Niño Dios hidden in the rosca reminds us of the moment when Saint Joseph and the Virgin Mary hid the Baby Jesus in order to save him from King Herod, who wanted to kill him. The three gifts that the Kings gave to the Niño Dios represent the Kings (gold), God (frankincense), and man (myrrh).

"In Mexico, we consider that an oval or ring shape represents the movement of the sun and that the Niño Dios represents the Child Jesus in his apparition as the Sun God. Others mention that the circular or oval form of the Rosca de Reyes, which has no beginning and no end, is a representation of heaven–which of course is the home of the Niño Dios."

On January 6, 2009, Paty Mora de Vallejo, wife of Morelia's mayor Fausto Vallejo, served a slice of the enormous rosca de reyes monumental moreliana, prepared jointly by bakeries from everywhere in the city.

Everywhere in Mexico, bakers prepare an annual monumental rosca for the whole city to share. The rosca pictured above contains nearly 3000 pounds of flour, 1500 pounds of margerine, 10,500 eggs, 150 liters of milk, 35 pounds of yeast, 35 pounds of salt, 225 pounds of butter, 2000 pounds of dried fruits, and 90 pounds of orange peel. The completed cake, if stretched out straight, measures two kilometers in length! Baked in sections, the gigantic rosca is the collaborative effort of ten bakeries in the city. The city government as well as grocery wholesalers join together to see to it that the tradition of the rosca continues to be a vibrant custom.

The plastic niño (baby) baked into our rosca measured less than 2" tall. The figures used to be made of porcelain, but now they are generally made of plastic. See the tooth mark on the head? Mexico Cooks! is the culprit. Every rosca de reyes baked in Mexico contains at least one niño; larger roscas can hold two, three, or more. Morelia's giant rosca normally contains 10,000 of these tiny figures.

Tradition demands that the person who finds the niño in his or her slice of rosca is required to give a party on February 2, el Día de La Candelaria (Candlemas Day). The party for La Candelaria calls for tamales, more tamales, and their traditional companion, a rich atole flavored with vanilla, cinnamon, or chocolate. Several years ago, an old friend, in the throes of a family economic emergency, was a guest at his relatives' Three Kings party. He bit into the niño buried in his slice of rosca. Embarrassed that he couldn't shoulder the expense of the following month's Candelaria party, he gulped–literally–and swallowed the niño.

El Día de La Candelaria celebrates the presentation of Jesus in the Jewish temple, forty days after his birth. The traditions of La Candelaria encompass religious rituals of ancient Jews, of pre-hispanic rites indigenous to Mexico, of the Christian evangelization brought to Mexico by the Spanish, and of modern-day Catholicism.

In Mexico, you'll find a Niño Dios of any size for your home nacimiento (Nativity scene). Traditionally, the Niño Dios is passed down, along with his wardrobe of special clothing, from generation to generation in a single family.

The presentation of the child Jesus to the church is enormously important in Mexican Catholic life. February 2 marks the official end of the Christmas season, the day to put away the last of the holiday decorations. On February 2, the figure of Jesus is gently lifted from the home nacimiento (manger scene, or creche), dressed in new clothing, carried to the church, where he receives blessings and prayers. He is then carried home and rocked to sleep with tender lullabies, and carefully put away until the following year.

Each family dresses its Niño Dios according to its personal beliefs and traditions. Some figures are dressed in clothing representing a Catholic saint particularly venerated in a family; others are dressed in the clothing typically worn by the patron saints of different Mexican states. Some favorites are the Santo Niño de Atocha, venerated especially in Zacatecas; the Niño de Salud (Michoacán), the Santo Niño Doctor (Puebla), and, in Xochimilco (suburban Mexico City), the Niñopa (alternately spelled Niñopan or Niño-Pa).

This Xochimilco arch and the highly decorated street welcome the much-loved Niñopan figure.

The veneration of Xochimilco's beloved Niñopan follows centuries-old traditions. The figure has a different mayordomo every year; the mayordomo is the person in whose house the baby sleeps every night. Although the Niñopan (his name is a contraction of the words Niño Padre or Niño Patrón) travels from house to house, visiting his chosen hosts, he always returns to the mayordomo's house to spend the night. One resident put it this way: "When the day is beautiful and it's really hot, we take him out on the canals. In his special chalupita (little boat), he floats around all the chinampas (floating islands), wearing his little straw hat so that the heat won't bother him. Then we take him back to his mayordomo, who dresses our Niñopan in his little pajamas, sings him a lullaby, and puts him to sleep, saying, 'Get in your little bed, it's sleepy time!" Even though the Niñopan is always put properly to bed, folks in Xochimilco believe that he sneaks out of bed to play with his toys in the wee hours of the night.

Trajineras (decorated boats) ready to receive tourists line the canals in Xochimilco.

Although he is venerated in many Xochimilco houses during the course of every year, the Niñopan's major feast day is January 6. The annual celebration takes place in Xochimilco's church of St. Bernard of Sienna. On the feast of the Candelaria, fireworks, music, and dancers accompany the Niñopan as he processes through the streets of Xochimilco on his way to his presentation in the church.

Gloria in Xochimilco with Niñopa, April 2008. Photo courtesy Colibrí.

Blue papel picado (cut paper decoration) floating in the deep-blue Xochimilco sky wishes the Niñopan welcome and wishes all of us Feliz Navidad.

El Día de La Candelaria means a joyful party with lots of tamales, coupled with devotion to the Niño Dios. For more about a tamalada (tamales-making party), look at this 2007 Mexico Cooks! article.

From the rosca de reyes on January 6 to the tamales on February 2, the old traditions continue in Mexico's 21st Century.

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5 de January de 2019
Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe :: Queen of Mexico and Patron of the Americas in Images

The actual tilma (cape-like garment) worn by San Juan Diego in December 1531. The framed tilma hangs over the main altar at the Basílica de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, Mexico City.

The annual feast of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe (Our Lady of Guadalupe) falls each year on December 12. Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe is Mexico's patron saint, and her image adorns churches and altars, house facades and interiors, taxis, private cars, and buses, bull rings and gambling dens, restaurants and houses of ill repute. The shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe, la Basílica, is a place of extraordinary vitality and celebration. On major festival days such as the anniversary of the apparition on December 12th, the atmosphere of devotion created by the hundreds of thousands of pilgrims is truly electrifying.

Statues of Our Lady of Guadalupe for sale at the many, many souvenir booths outside the Basílica.

The enormous Basílica of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe in Mexico City is the most visited pilgrimage site in the Western Hemisphere. Its location, on the hill of Tepeyac, was a place of great sanctity long before the arrival of Christianity in the New World. In pre-Hispanic times, Tepeyac had been crowned with a temple dedicated to an earth and fertility goddess called Tonantzin, the Mother of the Gods. Tonantzin was a virgin goddess associated with the moon, like Our Lady of Guadalupe who usurped her shrine.

Our Lady of Guadalupe tattoo.

Read the full story of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe here.

Our Lady of Guadalupe surrounded by fresh roasted peanuts, Morelia, Michoacán. November 2009.

Holy water bottles in rainbow colors of plastic, for sale at the booths just outside the Basílica.

Art casket, Our Lady of Guadalupe and the Basílica.

Primitive folk art depiction of Our Lady of Guadalupe. A saying in Mexico: "No todos somos católicos, pero todos somos guadalupanos." "We aren't all Catholics, but we are all followers of Our Lady of Guadalupe."

Statue in resin of Our Lady of Guadalupe and Pope John Paul II, who was devoted to her. This image is reproduced as calendars, statues of all sizes, and pictures to hang on the wall.

Portrait of Monseñor Diego Monroy, rector of the Basílica de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe. The painting is part of Monseñor Monroy's private collection.

In 1810, Padre Miguel Hidalgo carried this banner to lead the struggle for Mexico's independence from Spain.

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8 de December de 2018
Wandering Mexico with Mexico Cooks! :: Dando la Vuelta por México con Mexico Cooks!

Making chicharrónes–freshly fried pig skins, just out of the vat. If you haven't eaten this when it's fresh and still hot, you haven't really eaten chicharrones! This man's stand is a favorite on one of my market tours. Mexico City, January 2018.

It occurred to me the other day that I have taken literally hundreds of photographs this year and have shared comparatively few with you. Remember when Mexico Cooks! regularly published a "flaneur" report, of wanderings and wonderful or weird things all over the country? Today we're taking a photographic nostalgia trip through 2018.

Tulips are always a sure sign that Mexico has turned the corner from winter to spring. These, at our wholesale flower market, have jumped the gun just a bit–but so nice to see them now! Mexico City, January 2018.

Color is everywhere in Mexico. Boxes of fresh chile serrano, fresh chile habanero, and fresh pale-green tomate verde (you probably know them in English as tomatillos) are for sale in one of my favorite Mexico City markets. At the very bottom left of the photo are a few limones–in English, key limes. Mexico City, January 2018.

Pinole (toasted and finely ground dried corn flour, sweetened with piloncillo (raw cane sugar, and cinnamon) is an old-fashioned treat still much loved today. It's for eating as a powder, as is, or it can be combined with milk and other spices into a hot atole. It's a very, very dry powder, to the point that Mexico has a saying about it: "El que tiene más saliva, traga más pinole" (he who has the most spit can eat the most pinole). Or two: "No se puede chiflar y comer pinole" (you can't whistle and eat pinole). Morelia, Michoacán, March 2018.

This may well be my number-one favorite restaurant dish of 2018. What you see is a tennis-ball size "albóndiga" (literally, meatball)–but in this case, it's not really a meatball. The golden brown crust is made of crushed corn and amaranth; the interior is filled with quesillo (Oaxaca cheese), huauzontle (a pre-Hispanic green vegetable), and Oaxaca-style chorizo (spicy round sausage links). The albóndiga is fried until golden, plated in a pool of Oaxacan green mole–with fresh snow peas and fresh green beans, topped with beet sprouts. Thank you, Pasillo de Humo–this is an unfailingly stupendous meal. Mexico City, April 2018.

A round fogón (space that encloses a cooking fire) with its clay comal (griddle), ready for making tortillas, roasting tomatoes, onions, and garlic, or for whatever the needs of the day are. El Coyul, Oaxaca, May 2018.

My dear friend Carina Santiago, in her cocina tradicional (traditional kitchen) in Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca. If you're planning at trip to this town, known for its hand-woven woolen rugs as well as its traditional cooks, don't miss breakfast or comida (Mexico's main meal of the day) at Tierra Antigua, the restaurant/gallery run by Carina and her family. The gallery's rugs are woven from hand-dyed wool by Pedro Montaño (Carina's husband) and their sons; Carina and her kitchen team prepare the food, and everything is glorious. Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca, May 2018.

Nuestra Señora de la Soledad con el Sagrado Corazón de Jesús, Teotitlán del Valle, May 2018.
Our Lady of Solitude with the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Church of the Precious Blood of Christ.

Oxcart heading home, late afternoon in San Blas Atempa, Isthmus of Tehuantepec, Oaxaca. May 2018.

Cocktail picks and their woven case, from the early days of Restaurante Los Danzantes in Coyoacán. A flea market find one beautiful Sunday! Mexico City, early June 2018.

So much travel and so many pictures–and we're only halfway through the year. We'll be back after Christmas with more!

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1 de December de 2018
Guadalajara’s Panteón de Belén (Bethlehem Cemetery) :: Are You Brave Enough to Brave the Tour?

Originally published in late October 2007, this article about Guadalajara's Panteón de Belén lead up to several articles about Mexico's Día de los Muertos–Day of the Dead. All these years later, Mexico Cooks! will follow that same path as we relive Mexico's early November traditions.

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 an urgent 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 with trepidation, 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 a small gift or a piece of candy, your life in the future will be sweet."

We moved along to the next monument. Jessica 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 Cathedral. 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.

A Mexican girl's quinceañera (15th birthday celebration) is the most important day of her life, the day she leaves her childhood behind and is presented to God and to society as a young woman.

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, pale pink tulle 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.

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17 de November de 2018
Day and Night of the Dead in Indigenous Mexico :: Oh Death, Where Is Thy Sting?

Remember me as you pass by,
As you are now, so once was I.
As I am now, so you will be,
Prepare for death and follow me.
…from a tombstone

What is death? We know its first symptoms: the heart stops pumping, breath and brain activity stop. We know death's look and feel: a still, cold body from which the spirit has fled. The orphan and widow know death's sorrow, the priest knows the liturgy of the departed and the prayers to assuage the pain of those left to mourn. But in most English-speaking countries, death and the living are not friends. We the living look away from our mortality, we talk of the terminally ill in terms of 'if anything happens', not 'when she dies'. We hang the crepe, we cover the mirrors, we say the beads, and some of us fling ourselves sobbing upon the carefully disguised casket as it is lowered into the Astroturf-lined grave.

Octavio Paz, Mexico City's Nobel Laureate poet and essayist who died in 1998, is famously quoted as saying, "In New York, Paris, and London, the word death is never mentioned, because it burns the lips."

Tzintzuntzan, Michoacán panteón (cemetery), Mexico Cooks! photo. These fellows sing to la Descarnada (the fleshless woman) on November 2, 2009.

In Mexico, on the contrary, every day is a dance with death. Death is a woman who has a numerous affectionate and humorous nicknames: la Huesuda (the bony woman), la Seria (the serious woman), la Novia Fiel (the faithful bride), la Igualadora (the equalizer), la Dientona (the toothy woman), la Pelona (the bald woman), la Patrona (the boss lady), and a hundred more. She's always here, just around the next corner or maybe right over there, behind that pillar. She waits with patience, until later today or until twelve o'clock next Thursday, or until sometime next year–but when it's your time to go, she's right there, ready to dance away with you at her side.

November 2013 altar to La Santa Muerte (Holy Death), Sta. Ana Chapirito (near Pátzcuaro), Michoacán. Devotees of this deathly apparition say that her cult has existed since before the Spanish arrived in Mexico.

In Mexico, death is also in the midst of life. We see our dead, alive as you and me, each November, when we wait at our cemeteries for those who have gone before to come home, if only for a night. That, in a nutshell, is Noche de Muertos: the Night of the Dead.

In the lower center portion of this photograph, you can see the Quiroga, Michoacán, panteón municipal (town cemetery). Late in the afternoon of November 1, 2013, most townspeople had not yet gone to the cemetery with candles and flowers for their loved ones' graves. Click on any photograph for a larger view.

Over the course of the last 35-plus years, Mexico Cooks! has been to countless Noche de Muertos events, but none as mystical, as magical, or as profoundly spiritual as that of 2013. Invited to accompany a very small group on a private tour in Michoacán, I looked forward to spending three days enjoying the company of old and new friends. I did all that, plus I came away with an extraordinarily privileged view of life and death.

A magnificent Purépecha ofrenda (in this case, a home altar) in the village of Santa Fe de la Laguna, Michoacán. This detailed and lovely ofrenda was created to the memory of the family's maiden aunt, who died at 74. Because she had never married, even at her advanced age she was considered to be an angelito (little angel)–like an innocent child–and her spirit was called back home to the family on November 1, the day of the angelitos. Be sure to click on the photo to see the details of the altar. Fruits, breads, incense, salt, flowers, colors, and candles have particular symbolism and are necessary parts of the ofrenda.

Detail of the ofrenda casera (home altar) shown above. Several local people told Mexico Cooks! that the fruit piled on the altar tasted different from fruit from the same source that had not been used for the ofrenda. "Compramos por ejemplo plátanos y pusimos unos en el altar y otros en la cocina para comer. Ya para el día siguiente, los de la cocina tenían sabor normal, pero los del altar no tenían nada de sabor, no supieron a nada," they said. 'We bought bananas, for example, and we put some on the altar and the rest in the kitchen to eat. The next day, the ones in the kitchen were fine, but the ones from the altar had no taste at all.'

Preparing a family member's ofrenda (altar) in the camposanto in the village of Arócutin, Michoacán. The camposanto–literally, holy ground–is a cemetery contained within the walls of a churchyard. The beautiful beeswax candles used in this area of Michoacán are hand made in Ihuatzio and Santa Fé de la Laguna.

Come with me along the unlit road that skirts the Lago de Pátzcuaro: Lake Pátzcuaro. It's chilly and the roadside weeds are damp with rain that fell earlier in the evening, but for the moment the sky has cleared and is filled with stars. Up the hill on the right and down the slope leading left toward the lake are tiny villages, dark but for the glow of tall candles lit one by one in the cemeteries. Tonight is November 1, the night silent souls wend their way home from Mictlán, the land beyond life.

At the grave: candlelight to illuminate the soul's way, cempazúchitl (deeply orange marigolds) for their distinctive fragrance required to open the path back home, smoldering copal (frankincense) to cleanse the earth and air of any remnants of evil, covered baskets of the deceased's favorite foods. And a low painted chair, where the living can rest through the night.

Watching through the night. This tumba (grave) refused to be photographed head-on. From an oblique angle, the tumba allowed its likeness to be made.

"Oh grave, where is thy victory? Oh death, where is thy sting?"

Noche de Muertos is not a costume party, although you may see it portrayed as such in the press. It is not a drunken brawl, although certain towns appear to welcome that sort of blast-of-banda-music reventón (big blow-out). It is not a tourist event, though respectful strangers are certainly welcomed to these cemeteries. Noche de Muertos is a celebration of the spirit's life over the body's death, a festival of remembrance, a solemn passover. Years ago, in an interview published in the New York Times, Mexico Cooks! said, "Noche de Muertos is about mutual nostalgia. The living remember the dead, and the dead remember the taste of home."

One by one, grave by grave, golden cempazúchitles give shape to rock-bound tombs and long candles give light to what was a dark and lonely place, transforming the cemetery into a glowing garden. How could a soul resist this setting in its honor?

"Our hearts remember…" we promise the dead. Church bells toll slowly throughout the night, calling souls home with their distinctive clamor (death knell). Come…come home. Come…come home.

Waiting. Prayers. No se me olvido de tí, mi viejo amado. (I haven't forgotten you, my dear old man.)

Next year, come with me.

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3 de November de 2018