“Only in passing are we here on earth”
Ancient Nahuatl Poetry
A friend brought me a pot of beautiful orange marigolds about a week ago. He knows they are a favorite of mine and it was a thoughtful gift. Their smell filled my kitchen and filled me of remembrances of “Flor de Muerto” and my grandmother. Their name in Nahuatl is zempasuchil and has been associated with honoring the dead in Mexico for at least 5,000 years or longer. My grandmother said the smell helps the dead souls find their way home. When I smell them it takes me home to my grandmothers’ house in Cholula, Puebla, Mexico.
As a little girl I loved the preparations for Dia de Los Muertos and our trips to the Victoria Market in the City of Puebla. For several weeks before the event the market geared up for the special day. There were piles of black pottery and candle holders, huge beeswax candles, mounds of special bread, Paper Mache skeletons, sugar skulls, copal and of course flor de muerto filled the main area of the market place. The market was very dark inside but it became darker and more mysterious with the burning copal and the hunched nanas selling their wares celebrating death. My grandmother said that the wall between the spirit world and our world became thin during Dia de Los Muertos so the spirits could come back and visit us. As a child I certainly felt them visiting in the Victoria Market!
My grandmother would sweep and wet the dirt outside her house and pluck the petals of the marigolds to make a line of them in front of the house. Only Mexicans attempt to clean dirt! When the spirits of our dead ancestors would fly over the line of orange petals it was a signal to them that we were ready to welcome them and that our ofrenda was prepared, laden with mole, pulque and tamales.
The customs of remembering the dead were well established before the coming of the Spaniards and Christianity. Nov 1st coincides with an ancient festival honoring the warriors who have died in battle. Those grinning skulls were hard wired into our psyche from the time our ancient ancestors associated them with Mictlantecuhtli, the god of death. The Spanish priests realized there were some things they weren’t going to change and so they made the attempt to fuse the old and the new together. Our ancient ancestors believed in an afterlife and they believed that life was a dream and death was where real living took place. They did not fear death. In the celebration of Dia De Los Muertos our culture manifests the love and respect of our ancestors, the belief in the continuance of life and solidarity as a community vowing to never forget the contributions of the ones who have gone before us.
As a community it has been a very hard year. I feel that as a culture we have been bullied by agendas of fear and hatred. We have seen our civil rights violated and I feel there is more to come. When I prepare my ofrenda this year the faces of my loved ones will inspire me to keep fighting, to keep voting, to keep being an instrument of change no matter what the cost. I can feel them tugging on me already. It started with the first smell of the Flor de Muerto. Our departed ancestors are concerned about us, our children our grandchildren. They are whispering in our ear, “Maybe you will be the one who transforms history for our people this time!” Let’s not disappoint them.
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