Day of the Dead

The small town of Guadalupe, Arizona is a refuge of Mexican Indigenous culture surrounded by the vast, modern Metropolitan Phoenix area. This city is the settlement of many Yaqui Indians that were displaced from their home by the Yaqui River in Sonora, Mexico, during the late 1800s by the Spanish ruler Porforio Diaz. This tribe was forced into the jungles of the Yucatan, but during the Mexican Revolution the Yaqui joined Pancho Villa. When Villa's army was defeated, the Yaqui sought safety in the United States and settled in the Salt River Valley. Here they were employed by the construction of the canal system in Maricopa County and they created a village that has come to be known as Guadalupe. Overtime, the rapid development of the Phoenix Area occurred around this small village, yet the town of Guadalupe has maintained a uniquely independent culture. There are open air markets with fresh fruit and meat. Religious signs written in Spanish adorn the town square. Our Lady of Guadalupe Church, built in 1910, stands proudly in the center of the town displaying its traditional Mexican steeples and adobe architecture. The town also hosts a Yaqui Temple where many traditional ceremonies are held.

I visited Guadalupe to witness the celebration of Dia De los Muertes, or day of the dead, in late October, 2006. This is a celebration of ancestors and relatives who have passed-on. It is practiced throughout Mexico, Latin America and certain areas of the Southwestern United States. Dia De Los Muertes can be traced to Mesoamerican native traditions beginning with the Aztec Culture. The holiday is a festive time of welcoming relatives back from the dead.

In Guadalupe, the town's citizens adorned the town square with altars prepared for the dead. This practice of creating altars for the dead involves decorating them with items that are believed to be attractive to the deceased. The altars that I witnessed included personal items of relatives who have passed as well as favorite foods and other items that the person enjoyed during their life. Some alters held certain brands of cigarettes or alcohol that the relative enjoyed while he or she was living. One altar contained a motorcycle helmet, another had stacks of books, and yet another held a person's well worn baseball mitt. There were letters written to and by the deceased people, photos of wedding days and little babies and memoirs of all types. The altars are also decorated with candles which remain lit thorough out the multi-day celebration. Flowers were used to decorate altars and to represent the pithiness of the state of living. Many altars also had a bowl of water, which I was told was placed there so the spirits can wash themselves before returning to the spirit world.

The experience of witnessing these altars and the dedication of living relatives was extremely moving. Several people set up chairs and sat next to the altars in order to tell stories of their relatives to people passing by. Other altars had written accounts of the dead person's life posted to them. A sense of the brevity of life and the reality of death was present, yet the mood of the Guadalupe citizens was festive and joyous. I, however, noticed a sense of sadness in myself, perhaps due to my own preconceived notion about death. I found myself thinking that it is important to remember lives of those that have passed and I lamented living in a culture that does not practice this sense of honor for relatives. I considered possible manners of celebrating and honoring the people that I have loved who are no longer living, in which I could engage. I found myself wondering who would celebrate my own life when it has ended.

In terms of awareness of world view, this event helped to open my eyes to a unique attitude about death that is greatly varied from that of the dominant white culture. These people of Yaqui decent embrace death as a positive situation. The belief is held that the afterlife is more pleasant and peaceful than this earthly experience. Hence, there is no purpose in mourning the loss of relatives. It is more appropriate to celebrate their lives. In fact, one participant told me that she cannot cry for her dead son, as he will not be able to find his was back to Heaven if she muddles his path with tears. In contrast, the White culture from which I have come encircles this special town with its rushing freeways, quickly raised apartment buildings and a discount shopping mall offering goods that nobody seemed to make. The common attitude of these busied Americans is to not stop long to look at death and certainly not to take the time to celebrate this inevitable stage of life. I worry that this dominant culture works so hard to cover up the fear of the unknown, which is ingrained in the death experience, that it has ignored the beautiful and vital experience of relating the stories of lives lived and remembering the love of people who have passed before us.

In summary, the experience of Dia de los Muetes in the town of Guadalupe, Arizona was enjoyable and eye-opening. The people of this town have managed to maintain an independent culture regardless of the development that encroaches upon them. The celebration of their ancestors attests to this. Attending the celebration helped me to have a clearer understanding of a different attitude toward death and family bonding, which will assist me in the future as I offer assistance to people who come from this cultural heritage.