November first is the actual Dia de los Muertos. We wanted to explore its indigenous roots a bit more, so we booked a cultural tour of Mayan villages in the area.
Zinacantán, in the hills west of San Cristóbal, was our first stop.
After the Spanish invasion, Christianity was forced on the indigenous population. The Maya adapted by merging Christian symbols and stories with their own belief system.
The cross was turned into a representation of the traditional four directions--up, down, sunrise, sunset. The cross is rooted in the earth and points to the sky. The cross bar represents the path of the sun across the sky. Pine needles symbolize the fertility of the earth.
We visited a traditional compound where several families live--mud-daub walls, thatched roof, compressed earth floors.
The women fed us delicious bean and cheese tacos prepared over a wood fire. That's beef jerky drying on the pole.
They use many varieties of corn and chiles in their cooking. The white corn represents the sky, yellow, the earth, red, the sunrise, black, the sunset.
They have a weaving workshop where you can buy their wares. All handmade. It takes about a month to make one of the meticulously-embroidered blouses.
Lots of kids playing underfoot. So cute.
An elaborate altar was set up in one room.
Catholic saints adorned with colorful Mayan garb.
Los muertos will not go hungry tonight.
I had to drag O away from the stylish goat-hair regalia.
Next we visited the cemetery in the nearby town of Chamula. It was crowded with people paying respects to their muertos.
The women were decked out in their holiday best.
The cemetery is crowded with graves covered in pine needles and marigold petals.
The air is filled with laughter and music, a true celebration of life and death.
The men in the white goat-hair tunics are local officials/police.
O wore her Dia de los Muertos skirt. Is she longing for a lovely goat hair replacement?
So many flowers!
Later, we strolled into town, passing many fine eateries.
We wandered through the market toward the main church.
The church is decorated with various Mayan symbols. Unfortunately, photos of the inside are forbidden. There are dozens of shrines to a wide variety of saints, each with their own altar, and all lit with a myriad candles and festooned with flowers and other offerings. The smell of copal incense fills the air.
People line up to keep the bells continuously tolling.
Our next stop was the village of Romerillo, in the hills east of San Cristóbal. It was like going to a county fair. Mayan style.
Ferris wheels! Tilt-A-Whirl! Cheap merch!
Fair food! Sausages and chicharrones!
Booth after booth after booth of pizza! Fries! Fried plantains! Churros!
But almost no tacos or tamales. It really was like going to the fair and eating all the terrible stuff you don't eat normally. Deep-fried Twinkies, anyone?
I love these mobile ice cream vendors with their cooler mounted on a motorcycle.
Very different scene than Zinacantán. Here they lay planks on the top of each grave. These are doors that allow communication between the living and their muertos.
A man and his dinosaur contemplate the impermanence of life and the finality of death.
A goat-hair skirt is fashionably accessorized with stylish heels.
Fun for the whole family!
Not so fun for the clean-up crew.
We feasted on barbecued chicken brochettes and fried plantains. There were no trash cans, so eventually we were forced to throw our trash on the ground like everyone else.
Back in San Cristóbal, I found that my new look is like catnip for the ladies.
Surprisingly, the streets were pretty empty. I guess the frenzy of Halloween was enough for most locals. There were still groups of kids in costume dashing through the streets singing their Halloween song to solicit candy from the merchants, but nothing like the crowds last night.
P.
