I’m taking an anthropology course at USM over Winter Session. These are “compressed” between semester course options. Basically, 15 weeks of work gets forced into an intense four-week offering. Lots of reading, writing, and reflection tacked onto an already busier stretch than I’ve had in probably three years. For a part-time student like me, it’s a way to make progress. “It’s all good,” as they say.
One of our assignments required watching an excellent documentary produced by the BBC on the Mexican Day of the Dead. In a nutshell, this is a day that combines indigenous Aztec traditions about death with the Catholic Holy Day, All Saints Day. Because Americans are rarely curious about anybody else but their own dysfunctional culture, most know little or nothing about this Mexican tradition that actually honors the dead in a way that Americans fall far short in their avoidance of the topic, or their superficial “thoughts and prayers” Facebook contributions.
Once a week since Christmas, I’ve had to respond to one of three assigned student questions we’ve all had to generate from our reading for the class. This week, I tackled this question because death and how we as Americans process it is something I’ve been living for the past three years.
Question:
Why do Americans make the death of a loved one such a heart-tearing occurrence for decades, when the Mexican culture is much faster to move on and celebrate?
I know my fellow student didn’t mean to conflate the differences in how our two cultures process and in the latter sense, bring “celebration” to the experience of the death of a loved one, but that’s how I read his question. So this is how I answered it.
Josiah (not his real name),
I’m not sure I’d agree that Americans make death a heart-tearing occurrence. Like Stefan’s own experience being British, I think Americans tend to be uncomfortable with death and would prefer to acknowledge it as briefly as possible and then, move on.
Why do I say that? Because I’ve just spent the past three years trying to come to terms with the death of my son Mark Baumer. He was a gifted poet and a committed activist who was hit and killed while walking across America (barefoot) to raise awareness about climate change.
While both my wife and I have had to find a way to move through the process of grief and loss, much of that experience was done alone, or supporting one another. Friends and family—while some being supportive initially—can’t be bothered to “stay with” two people who have had their lives turned upside-down. Sometimes, total strangers have been more supportive than those closest to us, or Mark’s own friends.
In terms of the Mexican experience, especially the Oaxacan one chronicled by Stefan Gates, a BBC food writer in the documentary (Day of the Dead-BBC Culture, 2011), I don’t think they are “much faster to move on” at all. Celebratory—yes, for sure! But in celebrating, they carry the memories forward of loved ones lost in a much more meaningful manner (in my opinion) than we do in the U.S.
With the Day of the Dead, the combining of indigenous Aztec traditions with a Catholic Holy Day, All Saints Day, seems like an odd pairing. But it works.
At the start of part 2 of the film, I think it’s Catalina (sp??) who says that Aztecs believe that “life is just a dream.” Perhaps then, death is actually reality.
Stefan is skeptical initially. He wonders if the celebrants really believe that the “dead are coming back,” or if it’s merely and “excuse for a celebration.”
I liked when Catalina explained the Day of the Dead as like “a birthday” for the dead person.
As Stefan talked about Brits equating death with misery, I was reminded of that very same thing. Often, I might think of talking about Mark, my son, but they I remember how often people give the usual hackneyed responses when they learn of the death, more often than not saying, “I’m sorry.” I get it—what else is there to say? Perhaps asking me about him, or asking me how it feels, even three years out (we’re coming up on the third anniversary of his death on Jan. 21).
When Stefan meets Jorge, the festival organizer, Jorge tells him that the celebration is “more about life than death.
Stefan talks about his experience, being part of the Day of the Dead festivities, as a “normalizing” of death.
The Mexican state of Oaxaca is in a poor region of Mexico. Yet, the film shows their willingness and almost, a compulsion, to honor those who have died, by the offerings of food and flowers. Regardless of anyone’s thoughts about flowers for dead people, I found this truly touching that they want to honor their loved ones.
Nora (a local resident) says,
“You are always going to find money for the dead.”
Nora’s story about her grandmother and preparing mole (a favorite food of her grandmother’s) captures the essence of how Mexicans allow their sense of grief and loss to be infused with happiness and the memories from the lives of the people they loved.
Nora tears up, remembering her grandmother, as she eats the mole.
Stefan, a “proper” Englishman, is deeply touched by being part of this celebration. Perhaps, he’s actually allowing himself to feel the emotions and complexities associated with death in his own life.
Catalina talks about her grandfather. She’s emotional because thinking about him makes her miss him again. Yet, there’s a sense that he’ll be returning and this allows her to also feel happiness thinking that in some sense, he’ll be returning in spirit form.
The welcoming of the dead children was especially moving. Not only the locals and their reaction, but Stefan, with his scientific detachment, was able to recognize that remembering those children who had died was honoring to their memories.
Stefan comments how exhilarated he feels after spending the night in the cemetery, celebrating, drinking mescal, etc.
The day after his experience in the cemetery, Stefan’s mentions that memories of your dead loved ones don’t need to be mournful. There can be joy and happiness.
Stefan is visibly moved when he places the photos of his own family members on the altar. Watching this, it’s obvious that these emotions are totally unexpected. There’s a sense of catharsis taking place for him, which is another positive element in the Mexican Day of the Dead.
As Stefan reflects on the events, as they prepare food and offer incense while fireworks are going off, he notes the fundamental difference in this Mexican approach. The dead aren’t acknowledges just once, but every single year. The tragic and celebratory are conjoined.
I think the contrast between the usual way we minimize and avoid death, is clearly contrasted by the Mexican celebration represented by the Day of the Dead. Maybe when you celebrate death, death is slightly easier to bear. Or better, it’s no longer something to fear and avoid but, celebrate.
I appreciate you posing this question. It was helpful for me to view the BBC film again to answer this, and reflect on death (and life).
Works cited:
Gates, Stefan. BBC World News, “Feasts: Mexico: The Day of the Dead, 2011. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JFt8-WdstQA