Día de los Muertos: A Sustainable Holiday

Today’s celebration with skulls, skeletons, and bread eating ghosts, woke the dead and comforted the living.  I’m not talking about Halloween, I’m talking of course about Día de los Muertos, the traditional Mexican holiday celebrated November 1st and 2nd.   Traditional might even be an understatement in this context, as this holiday has been celebrated for 3,000 years.

There are many things to embrace about this holiday and thankfully, not a lot of things to buy. This holiday hasn’t been overtaken by commercialism, consumerism and Made in China labels.  The simple to elaborate “ofrendas” or offerings to your departed loved ones are made up of things you have in your home already.

To celebrate this year the only bought some Pan de Muerto (Bread of the Dead) at a bakery in the Fruitvale district of Oakland where I attended their annual festival.  Fruitvale’s festival is one of the largest outside of Mexico and is a sensory banquet. The drums pound out the beat for the Aztec dancers, incense burns for the spirits, food sizzles on carts, marigolds adorn the streets as you inch your way along the crowded E12th St.  The artists and craftsmen display incredible works of art.

The quieter part of the holiday, for me, is creating my own ofrenda. This year I wanted to honor Las Madres (the mothers) because I recently lost both my mother and her mother. As I began to assemble the photos and momentos I realized there were many mothers who needed honoring. I went back six generations on my mom’s mother’s side, four on mom’s dad’s side, four on my husband’s side and four on my father’s mom’s side.  Mothers, grandmothers, and grandfathers too got a place on the ofrenda.

Tradition calls for marigolds, pan de muerto, bright colors, spicy foods, and candles, but I set out some of their favorite things too. Like tea and a teapot, chocolates and candies, and some symbols of longevity and fertility like acorns and corn.  I pulled together precious heirlooms as well as whimsical rememberances, like a little clay pig my daughter had made my mom.

As I lit the candles and added the final touches to my ofrenda I felt very connected to my people and felt grateful for all of their influences upon the person my children and I have become.  I looked at the altar and was happy to see not one thing needs to be thrown out when I take it down and most of it can go back to the shelves and spaces it came from.  I can do it all again next year, now that’s sustainable.