The Dead Can Dance


Mariarchi bands, guitarists, and occasional lone singers, float joyful and doleful tunes across the field of high stacked graves, trays of steaming tamales and variously clad celebrants. A line of observers wends silently through, over a rough boardwalk recently erected, some dropping a tear or a flower, greeting an old friend, stopping the procession to linger at the final resting spot of their abuela or tia. Bordering the ancient burial grounds a festival has grown up, mushroom like, over the previous few days. Gifts, crafts, food and pulque, and even entertainment for children. This is a fiesta, a feast day, or days, it is Dia de los Muertes [Day of the Dead], in Tepoztlan, the 3500 year old birthplace of Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent god, and home of a grand cathedral and many churches.

Here is a place to witness the thousands of years of cultural collision that epitomizes the Americas.



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3 thoughts on “The Dead Can Dance

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