A public service announcement will have to suffice for my own photography during the Night of the Dead observance. What you see in that link, I saw-and so much more. I made a conscious decision not to take my camera so I could (1) be fully present (2) not have a falling down accident in the dark. I can't say anything that could fully express the mood of the night: serene, surreal, solemn.
If you remember from the butterfly post, the Purepecha people of Michoacan believed the returning monarch butterflies were the souls of their recently departed. The Night of the Dead ceremonies coincide with the arrival of the monarchs that migrate from the north. The actual ceremonies are solemn and held in the graveyards but as 21st Century shenanigans would have it-the fun abounds in the small towns of Michoacan. There was plenty of drinking and eating and partying. Maybe a little too much for some folks.
The sugar!
The cuties! (taken by a friend)
Now for the historical portion of our program: Atrocities perpetrated by the Spanish on the Tarasco and Purepecha Indians were substantial. Atonement was attempted by a Spanish bishop named Vasco de Quiroga. He helped each village around Lake Patzcuaro hone a craft or skill. He is much revered and beloved in the area, monuments to him are everywhere. Whatever. Mommy is getting a bathtub!
Santa Clara is known for its copper works. These little boys were grandsons of the man in the red shirt. Employees didn't show up for work, so they were pressed into service, demonstrating the skills needed to make the beautiful things we saw. Do yourself a favor and click on the picture.
Tzintzuntzan (remind you of the noise hummingbirds make? Well, there you have it!), another little village around the lake, was once an ancient capital of the Purepecha. There are prehistoric ruins still standing but the important centers of "pagan" worship were destroyed so that Catholic churches could be built in their place. The Spanish generally left one small part of an original wall to show what was there before. This was a beautifully restored monastery instead of a church and I loved that the work was done by young Mexican apprentices learning the art and craft of restoration.
This is a part of the original wall showing an ancient spiral carving.
I really enjoyed the monastery and the obvious pride our guide had in the restoration.
Other things I saw during the weekend, in no particular order:
The bakery...lordy lordy.
Underneath the fog is Lake Patzcuaro.
This guy is a famous artisan working in a small shop. He made the official nativity for the Vatican seven years ago. He's hand rubbing chia seed oil with pigment into the tray. I asked about his hands and he told me after the third day of rubbing his skin begins to shred. He was finishing up carving the tray when we arrived.
This is his lovely wife who paints exquisite boxes.
One little cool snap makes the poinsettias burst out in bloom.
It was a lovely weekend focused on honoring those who have gone before us. I don't mean to preach, but the celebration is so much more meaningful than what Halloween has become in the US. I am still reveling in the spirit.
If you remember from the butterfly post, the Purepecha people of Michoacan believed the returning monarch butterflies were the souls of their recently departed. The Night of the Dead ceremonies coincide with the arrival of the monarchs that migrate from the north. The actual ceremonies are solemn and held in the graveyards but as 21st Century shenanigans would have it-the fun abounds in the small towns of Michoacan. There was plenty of drinking and eating and partying. Maybe a little too much for some folks.
Tzintzuntzan (remind you of the noise hummingbirds make? Well, there you have it!), another little village around the lake, was once an ancient capital of the Purepecha. There are prehistoric ruins still standing but the important centers of "pagan" worship were destroyed so that Catholic churches could be built in their place. The Spanish generally left one small part of an original wall to show what was there before. This was a beautifully restored monastery instead of a church and I loved that the work was done by young Mexican apprentices learning the art and craft of restoration.
Other things I saw during the weekend, in no particular order:
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