November 1st was Dia de los Santos here, and I spent the majority of the day in a cemetary. It wasn´t like Memorial Day, though--I did not witness much mourning or sadness. In fact, there were ice cream trolleys and pizza deliverymen and kids of all shapes and sizes running over and around the graves. Families picnicked next on top of concrete tombs and the gringos present shot photo after photo of the hundreds of homemade kites, some of them 6-8 feet in diameter, flying above the buried bodies of their family members, neighbors, and friends.
In the little town of Santiago, about 40 minutes from Antigua, the local residents create and fly their kites in order to send messages to their loved ones in the cielo. Although I am not usually fond of crowds and being herded from place to place, this festival was worth every minute of the crowded tourist bus packed with gringos. We (two good friends from my Spanish school and I) were there for 4 hours, and I ate street food with abandon, took photos like the turista that I am, and sat atop a tomb watching the experts fly their kites with much passion and effort. It truly felt like a celebration. (Photos coming soon, I promise!)
There is, however, a darker side to Dia de los Santos. That evening, just after dark, we arrived (via the back of a pick-up truck) in the village of El Hato to stay the night at the Earth Lodge. The church bells started to toll as we arrived and all of the townspeople were gathered in the central part of the village just outside of the school. Adults, the elderly, and the children were all there, standing in lines. My friend Betsy, from my Spanish school, told us (although she didn´t remember her source) that All Saint´s Day is the day that the children who died in the past year come and select the children who will die in the coming year.
Kind of gives, you chills, huh?
In the little town of Santiago, about 40 minutes from Antigua, the local residents create and fly their kites in order to send messages to their loved ones in the cielo. Although I am not usually fond of crowds and being herded from place to place, this festival was worth every minute of the crowded tourist bus packed with gringos. We (two good friends from my Spanish school and I) were there for 4 hours, and I ate street food with abandon, took photos like the turista that I am, and sat atop a tomb watching the experts fly their kites with much passion and effort. It truly felt like a celebration. (Photos coming soon, I promise!)
There is, however, a darker side to Dia de los Santos. That evening, just after dark, we arrived (via the back of a pick-up truck) in the village of El Hato to stay the night at the Earth Lodge. The church bells started to toll as we arrived and all of the townspeople were gathered in the central part of the village just outside of the school. Adults, the elderly, and the children were all there, standing in lines. My friend Betsy, from my Spanish school, told us (although she didn´t remember her source) that All Saint´s Day is the day that the children who died in the past year come and select the children who will die in the coming year.
Kind of gives, you chills, huh?
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