Dia de los Muertos and Hanal Pixán

There’s nothing like a total stranger insisting she shove food directly into my mouth… and me permitting it… to tell me that I'm having a "cultural experience".

But first:

Many folks are aware of Dia de los Muertos, or the Day of the Dead. It happens on October 31^st and involves facepainting, creepy costumes, and many, many skeletons. Think of it as Halloween, but where the All Souls Day of the Catholic Church not only hasn’t been forgotten but is on equal (or greater) footing than the spookiness.

Here in the Yucatan, the holiday is called Hanal Pixán, and is firmly rooted in the people’s Mayan heritage. Whereas in the rest of Mexico, Dia de los Muertos is vibrant, exploding with color, and often a bit rowdy, in Merida, Hanal Pixán is grounded in nature, family, and food. While it’s certainly not somber, the tradition uses more muted colors in the festivities, there’s a larger focus on celebrating and mourning lost loved ones, and (since Hanal Pixán in Mayan means “food for the souls”) the focus on food, feeding, and offering up food as tribute takes center stage.

Throughout the city, families use bamboo and banana leaves to build temporary ‘altars’ to honor their dead. For a week leading up to the holiday we found these altars in the Grand Plaza (the large central square), in city parks, in people’s front yards, on random corners… Wherever we found one, there was usually a family member present to care for it; but if not, they were revered and respected by passersby. Inside the altars you’ll find photos of lost loved ones (often many generations of photos), special mementos, foods in tribute, crosses and other Christian icons (the mingling of Mayan and Christian beliefs is fascinating!), and an extensive use of marigolds. Fun fact: Marigolds are native to Mexico. According to Mexican tradition, the flower’s aroma and bright orange color ensure the spirits don’t get lost during their annual visit to the land of the living.

Although we didn’t fully understand all elements of the holiday, it became apparent that food, and the act of feeding, play central roles. At the beginning of the holiday week, we attended a food festival focused on Mucbipollo.  The word is half Mayan and half Spanish and means “buried chicken”- referencing the traditional underground ovens in which the dish has historically been prepared. (Modern preparations often use more kitchen-based ovens).  Erik and I waited in line, bought a piece, asked for a second fork, and found a shady spot to eat. The dish is kind of like a giant tamale… that married a lasagna… and had a baby. With chicken.

Two days after the food festival we found ourselves at the Grand Plaza, walking around and checking out the altars. We were surprised and confused that there appeared to be lots of people waiting in lines in front of many of the altars. We approached to try to figure out what was happening.

This brings us back to a stranger feeding me food as if I were a petulant toddler.

The aforementioned people were lined up for food. Family members inside the altars were distributing food to the onlookers, as a means of honoring their ancestors. When a woman saw us looking on with curiosity, she started yelling at the women inside the altar “¡Hay extranjeros aqui! ¡Dame un pedazo para los extranjeros!”  (There are foreigners here! Give me a piece for the foreigners!)

I began protesting that we didn’t need anything, that this was so very kind of her, that there

are all these other people waiting, and really, it’s just fine… so… she shut me up by shoving part of her food in my mouth. She then proceeded to call Erik over and repeated the process with him (though reaching his mouth required a stretch for her). We thanked her profusely, and, having discovered we speak Spanish, she began the interrogation about our lives. We ended up having a lovely chat for a few minutes, and she gave up on pressuring the people in the altar to give us a piece of food. Eventually we said our goodbyes and she wandered into the crowd… but as we were walking away, one of the women from the altar came running after us and shouting- to hand us our own piece of, you guessed it, Mucbipollo.

The day before Hanal Pixán we headed to San Juan Park to check out its holiday display. This one was much more in line with our past experiences with Dia de los Muertos…. It was bright, vibrant, and involved lots of skeletons. That evening we returned to see the displays lit up.

The night of the holiday there is a ‘Parade of the Souls’ that goes from the cemetery to San Juan Park- about 1.5 miles away. Hundreds of people don traditional face paint and march the route, while thousands line the streets to watch. We were lucky enough to be invited to party at a house on the parade route, so we got to watch the parade slightly removed from the throngs of people, while enjoying a cool beverage (and more mucbipollo!). 

Again, despite the thousands of people, I was struck at how different Hanal Pixán felt from other Dia de los Muertos festivities in other parts of Mexico. I’ve previously experienced very loud, drunken crowds. Not here. The streets were full of families eating, couples holding hands, elderly grandparents laughing, children playing, and in general, an overwhelming sense of community.

*Many thanks to local friend JulieMarie, who shared some of her photos of the parade.