The Day of the Dead

This week, we explore the Day of the Dead (Día de los Muertos), a Mexican holiday celebrated on November 1st and 2nd when the gates of heaven are believed to open, allowing children’s spirits to return on the first day and adults’ spirits on the second day.

We discuss how the holiday originated from a combination of Mesoamerican rituals, European religion, and Spanish culture, including an ancient Aztec belief system where the dead had to overcome nine challenging levels to reach the city of the dead. Families create ofrendas (altars) with photos, favorite foods, personal items, and traditional elements like candles, salt, and bread to welcome back their deceased loved ones.

Then, we dive into several personal encounters, including stories of a woman hearing mysterious singing near her ofrenda, a man being walked home by his deceased father’s friend, and a widow’s husband experiencing a powerful connection with his late father through an ofrenda.

The Day Of The Dead, also known as Dia de los Muertos.

Is there a day when the veil becomes thin between life and death?

What would you say to your lost loved ones if you had the chance?

Why do ancient traditions still impact Latino culture today?

What is up, Bizarros?! This week, we are diving into an annual celebration, The Day Of The Dead. 

What Is The History Of The Day Of The Dead?

It is the Mexican Holiday that comes from a combination of religious backgrounds that has to do with the complicated history of the Mexican colonization.

Mesoamerican rituals, European religion, and Spanish culture have created something that is still celebrated today.

On November 1, those who celebrate the day believe that the gates of Heaven open up on October 31st at midnight, and the spirits of deceased children can rejoin their family for 24 hours, and November 2nd is when adults can come to visit.

The native Nahua people believed that when they died, they had to go through 9 challenges to arrive at Chicunamictlán (the city of the dead).

1 The first region of the Mictlān was Itzcuintlán, the “place where the dog lives.” Here, the dead found Xoloitzcuintle (pronounced show-low) dogs, the breed considered sacred. It is inhabited by Xochitónal, a giant iguana who is in charge of guarding the place. The travelers had to cross the river with the help of one of the dogs, who assisted only the deserving ones, the people who treated dogs well, while the ones who weren’t worthy were left stranded on the shore.

2 The second section was Tepeme Monamictlán, “place where the mountains meet”. The dead had to cross between two hills that constantly collided and separated.

3 The next level was Itztépetl, “obsidian mountain”, a hill with an obsidian path that lacerated those who walked it.

4 Then, the dead arrived at Cehuelóyan, a “place where there is a lot of snow,” to face cold winds, sharp rocks, and non-stop snowfall.

5 Pancuecuetlacáyan, “place where people fly and flip like a flag,” the fifth region was a desert where there were strong, cold winds and no gravity. The dead had to surf the wind to be able to leave.

6 The sixth section was Temiminalóyan, “place where arrows dart you”, a path in which invisible hands threw sharp arrows into those who were crossing.

7 After that, the dead would arrive at Teyollocualóyan, the “place where you get your heart eaten.” Here lives the jaguar, who eats peoples’ hearts. To avoid this, the dead had to give a stone that simulated the heart.

8 Once they got out of the seventh region, they arrived at Apanohualóyan, a “place where you have to cross water.” Here, the traveler had to go across the black waters of Apanohuacalhuia to continue to

9 Chiconahualóyan, “place where there are nine waters”, in which they had to go through nine rivers which involved nine states of consciousness. This was the final step on the journey of the dead. At this point while crossing the nine rivers a dense fog would roll in, extreme fatigue and the impossibility to see would cause a reflection of decisions and actions made in life, leading them to connect with everything that had happened during their lives and eventually, to connect with everything around them. In this way, the dead would become one with the whole, ending their suffering and finally liberating their tonalli (the soul). Then, they would be welcomed by Mictlantecuhtli and Mictecacíhuatl.

From there, a person would strive for Mictlán, the final resting place.

The Nahua would hold rituals that would have been August in order to help these spirits by providing water, food, and tools.

This was the inspiration for the special altars called ofrendas that either go on a person’s grave or a place in the home.

Where Is The Day Of The Dead Celebrated?

The Day of the Dead is celebrated in more than just Mexico and Mexico City. Although the celebration has its roots there. It’s also celebrated in most of Latin America, Central America, and even heavily in The United States, as there is a large Latina population.

How Is The Day Of The Dead Celebrated?

Parties and parades are a common way to celebrate the dissolving of the barrier between the world of the dead and the living.

People also gather in town squares and community centers in order to celebrate as well. They eat, drink, play music (folk songs), dance, and even pretend to be dead. It is a large community event. 

Some places go to the cemetery with offerings and bring the cemetery to life with colorful celebrations to honor deceased family members. 

During this time, when the dead visit, they party with the living, and the family makes the deceased’s favorite foods, as well as other offerings, like fresh flowers or flower wreaths, on the ofrendas and graves.

The skeleton and skull are symmetrical for the Day of the Dead, and they usually wear skull masks. They eat candy skulls and spicy dark chocolate, as well as drink a corn-based drink called Atole.

You say the happy day of the dead by saying, “Feliz día de los Muertos.”

What Is On An Ofrendas?

Traditionally, what goes on in an ofrendas has to do with the loved ones who have been lost and are remembered.

Now, some of these may be frowned upon, but it all depends on regional long-held traditions.

There are no rules. They can be as big and grand or as small and meaningful as they need to fit the home.

But there are some things that are staples for the ofrendas.

They need to have a representation of the four elements: fire, earth, wind, and water. These represent the terrestrial plane of the earth. It helps ease the transition from the spirit world.

The ofrendas also need to have a strong element of decoration. It just shows the dead that the family cares, and it welcomes them into the home for the night.

Lastly, they also need to have an element of food and or other things the departed loved (think the guitar from Coco)

Incense is usually burned to purify the space. This comes from the catholic church brought to the culture.

Paper picado is also put on most ofrendas as a representation of wind.

Candles for fire.

Salt for purification and stability.

Pan de muerto (day of the dead bread)

It’s a bread made to represent the day of the dead and different body parts. It also has roots in its ancient traditions as well.

The most important element, however, is the photos of the loved ones. They are to honor the dead and to show that they are still cared for. The pictures are usually of them doing something they love or where they look great. If, for some reason, there are no pictures, a sugar skull is used as a representation.

Some families even put mats down underneath as a place for the spirits to rest.

Day of the Dead Experiences

From Amadeus Law on Reddit

She reported that her aunt sent this video of her aunt Olfrenas

“More about the Post: In Mexican culture, it is common on November 1st to set up an Altar and offer for all of your deceased relatives and friends to come eat and enjoy all of the things they once loved when they were alive.

This video was taken in Texas at night, my Aunt had spent the whole day cooking Mexican food to place in the Altar for the Day of the Dead (Día de los muertos). She completed the Altar with all of the pictures from our relatives and sent us a video of her finished work.

Please note this video was taken in a quiet neighborhood at night; there was no TV and no music at the time of the video; the only sound that is normal in the Video is the sound of my Aunt’s slippers as she walks around the Altar to film, however, if you listen closely, you can hear screams and what seems like a woman singing in the background. (This video was taken last year, but I have not thought of posting it until now.)”

Day of the Dead experience from Reddit user pilatedead

Día De Los Muertos

So I grew up in Southern California in a town that big-time celebrated Día De Los Muertos. I’m not Mexican, but my oldest daughter’s father is from Guadalajara, so I’ve done my best to raise her so that she feels connected to her roots. I moved to the Midwest years ago to finish a PhD, where I met and married a white guy, and we have a little daughter together.

I’ve always put out ofrendas for my Irish Nana and my German grandmother – because growing up in a Mexican community taught me the value in such practice – and I like to keep my oldest kid connected to where she was born and to her culture.

Last year, my husband’s father died rather unexpectedly from late-onset muscular dystrophy. My husband has really struggled with this loss over the past year. His father, Randy* was a wonderful man. Salt of the earth railroad worker on the Soo Line. I only knew him for four years, but I loved him deeply. When he died, my husband changed.

We’re both professors – my husband and I – and his dedication at work slipped, he drinks a lot more, he’s often up late watching football with his father’s ashes nearby, he cries out of the blue.

Randy was such an important part of what motivated him to be a good father, husband, and scholar.

He was the kind of blue-collar social justice warrior baby boomer that’s hard to find.

So this year, I asked my husband if I could put out an ofrenda for Randy.

I gathered photos and his Soo Line hat – his ashes and cold summer sausage and PBR. I placed all this next to my Nana’s ofrenda on a built-in bookcase in our front living room yesterday. I lit candles.

The kids were trick-or-treating and had friends over, and there was fun chaos all around the house.

The candles glowed, and the ofrendas were background reminders of the family we miss, but nothing noteworthy.

Just like all the years before. My daughter said hello to my Nana and Grandmother and to Randy this year, and we went about our holiday as usual.

But.

After the kids went to bed and my husband came home from a get-together with colleagues, we had a stern disagreement about his drinking.

I was upset that he continues to rely on alcohol to help him cope with his grief.

He was apologetic and kind – but still very much in denial. He huffed off to bed, drunk and discouraged. And I stayed downstairs to turn out lights and blow out candles.

I went to the ofrendas. I stopped and, as I do every year, had a long talk with my Nana.

We were very good friends in life, and I miss her a ton even though she died 16 years ago now.

I took care of her while she was dying, and the night she passed was very overwhelming.

It’s a long story that most people (save my father, who was there with me) believe.

But when she died, she came to the front door and knocked on it loudly to tell us she was going. It was incredible, and to my father and I, who are atheists, it shook us into agreeing that there is more to living and dying than we know.

So there I was, at 3:19 am, talking to my Nana like she was there in the room.

I was sober, but for a glass of rosé, I drank for my grandmother, and I was listening to “Ah! Sweet Mystery of Life” on my phone – one of Nana’s favorite Irish operettas.

I was just chilling in the feels about my Nana, not thinking of Randy at all, really. When was his framed photo shot suddenly, or pushed forward, with such force – flinging salami and beer out of the shelf?

His hat flew from the shelf, and beer went everywhere. I was stunned. I couldn’t move for a moment.

I just stood there shaking and trying to figure out how in the hell the mess happened.

Nothing of my Nana’s – no coffee or toast or photos were disturbed. My grandmother’s ofrenda was untouched as well.

No windows were open; nothing had shifted or fallen – except every single item associated with Randy.

I was crying suddenly. Picking up salami and beer and laughing. “Okay, ok…I’ll go get your son,” I said out loud. I ran upstairs almost giddy, and woke my husband.

I didn’t tell him what had just happened. But I insisted like a crazy person that he HAD to go down and talk to his father.

He did.

I left him downstairs and tucked him in. Today, he told me that he had talked to his father until sunup.

That he (and he’s the most atheist of all atheists) felt his father there with him – listening to him, loving him, helping him with his grief.

My white-as-hell husband – who is always very cynical about my ideas on death and living and things like ofrendas – thanked me for calling Randy home to us. And he said, “Next year, we’re going to grill him steak.”

Happy Día de Los Muertos. 💐🕯🖤

Day of the Dead Story From Reddit User Ruben’s Mejia

My father’s dead friend walked me home on Día de los Muertos

I want to share this experience that happened to me around 15 years ago when I started studying in a town away from my parent’s home.

There was one man, let’s call him ‘Tony’, which was a good friend of my father, helped him at work sometimes, hence, I hanged out with them usually.

When I was 17, I moved to a bigger city to start university, so I traveled every two months to visit my parents for long weekends or vacations.

After my second year away, this friend, Tony, died from alcohol abuse.

My father told me on a phone call how that happened or at least how he heard it happened.

Around 2 months later, on Día de Muertos (the day of the death) here in Mexico, I went to visit my parents also to go and visit the tombs of the family, as the traditions go.

At this point, I had literally forgotten about Tony’s death.

The apparition came around because I didn’t catch the bus that arrived at my parents’ hometown during the day, so I was forced to take one that arrived there around 2 am. It is quite a small town, so since I didn’t find any taxi near the bus station, I decided to walk home.

Around 5 blocks away from the house, I had to pass on a bridge where people say that a decapited donkey spirit scares people during the night, I was a bit scared tbh.

But then, suddenly this friend, Tony, reached me on his bike (I didn’t mention that he always moved on a bike), and asked me if I was just arriving from University.

Maybe because I was originally thinking about the ‘decapitated donkey,’ I completely forgot about the fact that Tony was supposed to be dead.

So I started to talk to him also, and we walked past the bridge and a couple more blocks for around 4 or 5 minutes, talking about the school, the food in the other city, and stuff like that.

Just 1 block away from my parent’s house, he just told me, “ok, I have to go check some things over here (pointing in another direction), but keep safe, say hello to your father for me.”

We said goodbye, and then I got home.

Since it was early morning, I walked directly into my room and waited to the next day to go and see my parents.

It wasn’t until the next morning when I was just about to tell my father about Tony, that I remembered that he was already dead.

At that moment I didn’t tell my parents, but a bit later into the day my father told me that he saw me arriving, he asked me if I was drunk or something because he saw me “talking to nobody”… So then I told him.

I think it was some kind of company on that bridge that I was affraid of because of the stories, and also because of that scare (from the donkey story) I didn’t even pay attention to the fact that my company was someone I knew was already dead.

It is kind of funny for me, and I actually never felt afraid of that moment.

So, thanks to that old friend who was there with me even after death.

Day of the Dead Story from Vocal from Grace

I was having breakfast with my brother that day when my mom approached me and mentioned she wanted both of us to take her to visit my grandparent’s tomb so she could drop off some food, among other things, because it was the last day of the day of the dead celebration.

It was my brother, both my parents and myself. We took off that morning, and my mother decided to make a full day out of it at the last minute.

I gotta tell ya I was a little annoyed by her decision but we were about 30 minutes into the road so I had no choice.

She wanted to stop by 2 of my aunt’s houses as well after, but she didn’t want to spend the night with either of them.

We took care of business at the cemetery, and we headed towards my aunt’s house.

We had lunch, we had some laughs and moved on and headed towards the other house.

By the time we realized it had gotten a little late.

My aunt insisted on us spending the night, but my mother utterly refused.

Something about her having a horrific paranormal experience there that she never wanted to talk about, and there was no way in hell we were gonna stay.

It was close to midnight when he started heading back.

The road was deserted and creepy, and I was extremely tired. It had been a long day already. My brother, being the dofus that he is, kept making jokes and creepy sounds.

My parents were out, and I didn’t want to wake them up because he was being idiotic.

I kept driving, and he kept at it.

I was at my wit’s end when he decided to turn my lights off and told me, “When you turn the lights on again, you’re gonna see a scary face in the windshield.” I lightly punched him, and I turned the lights back on.

As soon as I did, I almost hit a group of people walking on the side of the empty road. It looked like it was a family of 5.

The parents and the kids, I was assuming.

I got so freaked out, but I was able to break in time. The weird thing is that the family had no reaction when my brakes screeched.

I was almost about to hit them with my car, and there was nothing from them.

They didn’t turn around, they didn’t yell, they didn’t get scared, absolutely nothing but silence.

I stayed in place for a few minutes to collect my thoughts, and my brother asked if we should go check on them to make sure they were okay.

But the family just kept walking down the road.

They were motionless, arms to the side, and just kept walking, looking forward. It was kind of strange seeing a group of people at that time of night, especially on that particular isolated road.

I decided to start driving again but lower my speed this time, and since my brother felt guilty, he put his head out the window and yelled at them, “Hey. Are you guys ok? Need any help?” he turned around paperwhite and in a low but urgent voice tells me “Drive” we need to get out of here.

Again, thinking he was playing around, I lowered my speed even more.

Grace, you need to listen to me and drive he tells me again.

Those people have no eyes!

What?

Stop messing with me, I said.

I’m not joking I promise please for the love of god drive.

I started getting scared myself, and I didn’t wanna look his way.

Hesitant at first, I started to drive, but curiosity got the best of me, and at the last minute, I decided to look through the rearview mirror.

My brother was right.

Those people had no eyes. I had never seen or experienced anything paranormal before

I was frozen in fear, but I just sped up without looking at them until they vanished in the distance.

The rest of the way was quiet. We couldn’t even look at each other, and nevertheless, we could say nothing at all.

We told our mom what happened the following day, and very casually, she told us, “Oh, I believe what you guys saw. No need to be scared. It was the dead going back to where they came from; it was their last day”.

Discussion About The Mexican Celebration.

Do we believe that spirits are actually coming back because of the traditions and practices, or are these just ghosts that would come back no matter what?

It could be that the spirits come back because of the focused and concentrated energy on the dead’s likeness, and the things they enjoyed are almost like an amplification method.

Do You Believe In The Day Of The Dead?

What do you think of the Mexican Tradition, Bizarros?

Do you think that loved ones who have passed are present during the celebration of life?

Is there a ghostly family reunion that happens during this traditional two-day celebration?

Let us know in the comments!

Sources used for the article: 

History.com, CEO’s.com. Nine Steps to Death: Unburying the Origins of a Tradition, PBS.com, lolomercadito.com, Reddit, Vocal