During the Night of November 1-2 is Noche de los Muertos. In central Mexico’s state of Michoacan, local residents of towns around lake Pátzcuaro with fun-to-pronounce ancestral Tarascan names like Tzintzuntzan, Ihuatzio, and Chucuchucho, take their Day of the Dead traditions very seriously. With great curiosity I joined their annual pilgrimage to nearby cemeteries for all-night vigils in order to honor departed souls. Driving from village to village throughout the night, I was continuously impressed how literally every cemetery in the region was set aglow by thousands of candles, illuminating everywhere the marigold-laden altars carefully erected by living relatives and loved ones of the dead. In some locations the cemeteries were hidden and intimate, while in others they stretched adjacent to town cathedrals and crowded craft markets with live music and countless vendors offering an incredible variety of Mexican street food favorites. Wide-eyed and spellbound I indulged in taking night-time photos, while keeping myself warm by drinking homemade steaming-hot fruit punch prepared and sold everywhere by local Mexican grandmothers. It all went down so well mixed with tequila…

One of the cemeteries still fresh in my mind was a rather tiny one, located on the hill top of Isla de la Pacanda – a small island in the middle of lake Pátzcuaro, which is accessible by boat and populated by only about 200 people from the same 20 families who had probably lived there forever. Gliding through the night across black water toward shimmering lights of the island in the distance, all the while listening to onboard musical score in the form of melodic indigenous Purapecha songs, I thought about how peaceful and appropriate the local attitude towards death was, how devoid of fear, and how radiant of some kind of pure magic… Instead of focusing on emotionally negative outcomes of loss and mourning, the purpose of this holiday was clearly intended to celebrate aspects of death experience that transcend sorrow. By bringing the deceased food and personal items they favored during lifetime, by spending time with them graveside, the local traditions center around honoring personal legacy of the deceased as something that remains alive and present in the living as a result of the gifts of influence the dead had left behind. To see death from this perspective and to be able to relate to the significance of local people’s intimate relationship with it, is to understand the spiritual and transformative power lying at the root of Mexican culture.

I will conclude the second installment of my Day of the Dead photo-story with these beautiful words by Octavio Paz:

 “The word Death is not pronounced in New York, in Paris, in London, because it burns the lips. The Mexican, in contrast, is familiar with Death, jokes about it, caresses it, sleeps with it, celebrates it; it is one of his favorite toys and his most steadfast love.”

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Last week I was sponsored by Mexico Kan Tours, Tulum-based agency specializing in conscious travel, to visit central Mexico’s state of Michoacan for a photo-reportage of the famous Day of the Dead festivities held in towns and villages near Morelia and lake Pátzcuaro. Sharing the same values in travel with my friends at Mexico Kan Tours, I was overjoyed at the opportunity to collaborate because all of us strive to present to our respective audiences a deeper look into Mexico’s complex culture, something sadly missed by vast numbers of visitors to this country who do not venture out of ubiquitous resorts. But all work aside, witnessing Day and Night of the Dead in Michoacan has been my personal bucket-list item for a very long time, therefore I immediately jumped at this last-minute chance to travel, to photograph the celebration, and to ultimately share with everyone what I came to know as one of the most beautiful traditions in the world.

Day of the Dead or Día de los Muertos on November 2 is one of the most important national holidays in Mexico and is a perfect time to observe in action how the beliefs of contemporary Mexican people stem from a foundation based in the blending and layering of complicated indigenous cultures with Catholic traditions of Spanish invaders. Because of the great variety of indigenous groups throughout Mexico, the specific traditions and rituals also vary from region to region. For the most part, the actual Day of the Dead festivities begin on November 1, which is called the Day of Little Angels or Día de los Angelitos, devoted specifically to honoring deceased infants and children. Preparations for celebrating start on November 31, the day when local people gather to decorate the streets with myriads of marigolds and build altars to honor the dead. The variety of altars is creatively impressive since they’re not always devoted to people’s actual dead relatives. Altar-building competitions are held throughout the area’s schools and I have seen altars honoring dead kings, queens, and famous saints like Mother Theresa. Some altars are more abstract and aren’t devoted to people at all. One of my favorites was actually built to honor maize, better known as corn – Mexico’s most important food staple, which someone depicted in their altar as crying and ultimately dead as a result of being replaced by new genetically-modified breeds.

As I allowed myself to be guided by the camera and talked to people in my slowly-improving Spanish, what I saw and what I hoped to capture in my images was the utmost care and seriousness with which people infuse their preparation process. It struck me as pure, meditative and absolutely profound! For this reason I devote the first installment of my Day of the Dead coverage exclusively to day-time preparations.

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