Travel Journal — Mexico City

The Beautiful Thing from the Day of the Dead

My first Dia de los Muertos encounter after a two-year wait

Who doesn’t love watching Coco movies? For those of you who don’t know, it is an animation movie by Pixar inspired by the Mexican holiday Day of the Dead. And because of this movie, I want to experience it firsthand.

As I stepped out of Mexico City’s Benito Juárez airport a few years ago, I was looking forward to the vivid and emotional events that celebrate this day.

Dia de los Muertos, or the Day of the Dead, is the day when millions of Mexicans create intricate altars and gather in cemeteries to honor and be with their deceased loved ones. Unfortunately, during my first and second years, my expectations were shattered by the harsh reality of the pandemic. The graveyards were only open to family members.

But last year, things finally seemed to be returning to normal. A dear friend of mine who had grown up in Mexico City took it upon herself to show me one of the most famous places to experience Dia de los Muertos: San Andres Mixquic in the southeast of Mexico City.

As we arrived in this vibrant neighborhood, the streets were packed with people of all ages, and the papel picado hung spanning the street.

We wandered through the neighborhood before heading to the graveyard, and the most remarkable thing was that the residents opened their houses to the tourists, allowing them to enter and admire their magnificent altar up close.

This was a moment I’d been looking forward to the opportunity to figure out the significance and symbolism of the Dia de los Muertos altar. The family welcomed us and patiently described the numerous elements of their altar.

They pointed us to photos of their loved ones, and I understood why they had placed such delicacies, drinks, fruits, and other items there: they were all favorites of the departed. Pan de Muerto, or elaborate sugar skull designs, were a must-have to feed deceased family members who crossed over the day. And the Cempasuchil flowers, which I saw from their front door, were supposed to guide the souls back home.

After that, we headed to the graveyard. I was amazed by the sight of tombs adorned with colorful marigold petals, candles, and the scent of burning copal incense wafting through the air.

The beautiful thing from my visit was seeing that Dia de los Muertos isn’t a sad time. Families get together with love to welcome back their loved ones, who are like guests for a short visit. It’s not about feeling sad, but about remembering and having a happy celebration. It’s like a big, lively party to remember their ancestors.