Marigold flowers in glass cups. Two bread of the dead alongside scattered sugar remnants. A small pot, the smallest in the cupboard, filled with mole that has already formed a layer of cream. Faded papel picado stained by drops from a spilled shot of tequila. At the top, the photo of the deceased relative watching over everything: the abundance or scarcity of the offering, the missing bone in the bread. This scene repeats every year on the Day of the Dead altar. This is a scene of mestizo tradition.
I don’t know if it was Coco, I don’t know if it was James Bond. This custom, half pre-Hispanic, half Spanish, has resurged strongly in the corners of Mexican homes. Fray Bernardino de Sahagún, in the General History of the Things of New Spain, already recounted that the Aztecs were known to hold festivities for the dead. The altar remembered the four-year journey that the deceased had to undertake to Mictlán, the land of the dead. As in almost all religions and beliefs, there was no altar without an offering, and as in almost every offering, there was always something to eat.
According to Licenciado José N. Iturriaga, historian and writer, there was one indispensable ingredient in pre-Hispanic altars: tamales wrapped in corn husks. There was also water to help the soul of the deceased navigate the treacherous path. Later, with evangelization, Catholic customs such as the rite to saints and the fermentation of wheat began to blend with local customs.
The altar is pure mestizaje. For example, there are endemic flowers like marigolds, beans, tequila – which, although it has a designation of origin, would not exist without distillation, originating from Asia. Mole is a baroque dish, the result of exchange with North Africa, Spain, Southeast Asia... The bread of the dead is the result of the syncretism of the soul bread made in Segovia or the "huesos de santo," a Spanish almond paste dessert whose presentation resembles reliquaries.
Just as the origin of the altar is diverse, so is the celebration: “November 1, All Saints' Day, was a day to celebrate the saints that did not have a specific date, instituted in the seventh century; the Day of the Dead was established by Pope Boniface IV at the Abbey of Cluny Odilón,” explains Iturriaga. This occurred in the 10th century – clearly, long before the Conquest – with the aim of having the faithful pray for the dead.
For those who criticize Halloween assuming it is a counterfeit of our festival, Iturriaga states that the word comes from All hallow's eve, another way to refer to “all saints.” The celebration dates back to medieval times, and it was the Irish who brought it to America. The Frankenstein and Dracula aspect, that is indeed a gift from the United States – and, well, from Mary Shelley and Bram Stoker.
The symbolism of the altar is naturally Mexican. An offering that is respected must have all its components: water, earth, sugar skulls, flowers, food, a candle, and copal to guide the dead to the altar. For Iturriaga, the root food that connects us with our ancestors should also not be missing: the tamal. Tamales are individual pieces that preserve well and withstand the elements – let’s remember that many altars are found in cemeteries – and far from having a specific symbolism, they stem from “The mother grain that shapes a culture. The most iconic food.”
Our belief is unique: for one day of the year, we have back home that beloved family member, that being we admire so much and who we miss. We forget the fear that ghosts give us on less festive days of the year, to wait for our loved one to cross the sky or the parallel world to eat, drink, and smoke. Just don’t make the mistake of forgetting the matches.
To honor them, here I share the
section where we put all that food they might like.