I love this dude and his dog! Captured in a courtyard in Oaxaca.Today, Laura had arranged for us to join the Garcia family, who live in Mitla, for their celebration. Her friend, Carina, invited Laura and her students to join the family on the annual trip to the cemetery, to visit Senor Garcia, and "bring him home for comida (lunch)." About 25 people, some students, some spouses, and other interested gringos made up the group.
Carina's mother, Lucia, had a most impressive altar for her husband in the living room. We admired the altar while sharing shots of mescal. Little Romina, 5 years old, worked her way quietly around the room, greeting each of us with a solemn handshake. After a couple passes of the mescal bottle for the adults only!, we were ready to walk to the cemetary. It's a beautiful, sunny day, and the five block walk was nice. We were part of a small crowd of people, both going to and coming from the cemetary, everyone carrying a three-legged, clay vessel of burning copal. The smoke of the copal is thought to be a perfect way for the spirits of dead loved ones to travel.
At the entrance to the cemetery, a small group of vendors was selling the last minute supplies the families might need for the visit to fetch the loved one home for comida. Modelo beer (the Budweiser of Mexico), cigarettes, more flowers, nuts for the living (for sustenance before lunch!), and various candies and fruit drinks.
Inside the cemetery wall, we found gleaming white stone tombs and markers. While not nearly as elaborate as the Oaxaca cemetery, it was in total contrast to last night in Atzompa, where we saw almost no tombs or fancy markers. Here, as expected, every grave was heavily decorated with flowers, nuts, fruits, cigarettes and flowers. I don't know about the cigarettes; not many people smoke in this part of the country. Perhaps it's a hold-ever from earlier days, when many people smoked.
We picked our way through the closely packed graves, following Carina, her mother and sister. We watched with respect as they set the smoking copal burner on the grave and poured a drink for Sr. Garcia. Carina put more flowers in the vases attached to the grave marker, laid some fruits and nuts on her father's grave, and then passed around cigarettes for us all. We had been cautioned beforehand to take the cigarettes, even if we don't smoke! We surely don't want to offend our hosts.
Carina's mother, Lucia stood silently while Carina and her sister Sophia took care of all the prep. I learned later that Sr. Garcia died 5 years ago, at the age of 62. Carina spoke to her father's spirit, telling him he was missed and inviting him to come for a meal at home. A few minutes of silence, and she picked up the smoking copal pot, and we followed her back to the house.
It was a pretty ceremony, full of emotion for the family. As I looked around, the same quiet ceremony was being repeated all over the small cemetery, little family groups surrounded with smoke, candles, fruits and drinks on all the graves.
Sophia added fresh water to the flower vases on her father's grave, while Carina poured a drink for him.
This unknown man and woman carried their smoking copal in a bucket, escorting their dead family member to their home for comida.
At their house again, Carina, Sophia and Lucia had another moment at the alter with their father's spirit. The room was so smoky I couldn't see them! Of course there was music, her father's favorite, playing from a cd player in the corner. Afterwards, the mescal was passed around again, along with beers. Some men, neighbors I think, appeared, and they strung a plastic canvas over the courtyard to shield us all from the sun. We all helped set up chairs and tables in the courtyard, children scampering through the legs of adults and around the tables. Hot chocolate and delicious pan de muerta, was passed around. Just in time, I needed something other than mescal! The beer and mescal flowed freely all afternoon. Soon, bowls of mole made their way down the tables. It was the best mole I've ever eaten! Not heavy, the best flavor. Everyone at the table agreed it was the best. Stuart, bless his heart, spilled a generous amount on his shirt. They don't call this mole "the table cloth stainer" for no reason. Oh well. I think he'll have another beer. What the hell, I'll have another shot of mescal!
Lucia, Carina and my teacher Laura posed for some photos...you can't see the mescal glasses in their hands!
Lucia and her family are weavers, like many families in Mitla. They brought out some of their work for us to admire. Of course, I had to buy a couple of pieces. I wandered to the back, to the open workrooms, to see the idle looms. One was warped with cotton, another with wool. I heard one of the neighbors, who came over for some mole, say the spun yarn these days comes from Puebla, and they buy some wool roving to spin themselves. I watched as he spun a little, for a demonstration, on a hand-made wheel made from a bicycle tire rim. Thrifty!
It was a very nice day. Before the sunwet, we loaded the bus for the ride back to Oaxaca, many of us napping in an effort to recover from a very late night last night, and shots of mescal this afternoon. So, Oaxaca cemetery, Atzompa cemetery, and a family celebration in Mitla. All very different and equally beautiful. Tomorrow: San Felipe del Agua.
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