Dia de los Muertos

It's day of the dead once again. Dia de los Muertos is a Mexican (and some parts of the USA) celebration that starts from October 31 and ends in November 2. It is a very festive celebration which they mark with interesting flower arrangement, skull shaped candies, food, and lots of candles. From the pictures that I've seen, you'd think it was a town fiesta. So I guess it's not only a celebration to honor the dead, it's also a celebration of life.

In the Philipines it's the time of the year when lots of people flock to the cemetery to visit their dearly departed. Some bring with them flowers, some food (along with the whole family or clan), some do general cleaning on their departed's puntod. I did my thing yesterday but not for my own dearly departed. How could I? My father is buried in Leyte. I helped the significant others paint their puntod then I went to what served as the chapel, lit a candle and said a prayer for my dad. While there, I observed that aside from the usual visitors there were lots of persons, some young some old plying their trade - selling mani, painting your puntod for you, or selling candles. Some of these "painters" would approach you offering their services despite seeing you there doing it yourself, still some of them seeing that we bought one big can of paint hover like vultures ready to snatch leftover paint from you. The flowers and candles were expensive. An otherwise 1.50 peso candle at any other time of the year was sold for 3 pieces at 10 pesos which prompted us to just have our candles lighted at the chapel fearing that a box of matches would cost us a fortune.

We went to another cemetery which was a great contrast to the one from which we came. The first cemetery we went to was a public cemetery - overly populated. The first stop at this second cemetery was to see Aaron, a former classmate way back in college who died violently early this year then to my plot of land. Before going home, we made a circuit of the whole cemetery to admire the mausoleums and wonder aloud what sort of people they were when they were alive.

During the whole thing, I kept checking myself and I must confess I did not feel anything. I could not connect to this tradition. The view of the river from the cemetery was great, the scenery was great, the people who were there were a nice thing to be observing but I could not connect. I simply just don't feel it and I don't think I would feel it even if I was visiting my father. Empty...