Here are some of the sights (and scents) from the Day of the Dead 2009 celebration at Casa Ramirez in the historic Heights neighborhood of Houston. I took these photos yesterday and today.
I'm neither Mexican nor Aztec, but I've long been drawn to this particular remembrance of the dead. Perhaps because it's the only one you actually see celebrated in America. Well, at least in Texas.
In France, this is All Saints Day, and while the traditions are a bit different, the goal is the same - to stop and remember our loved ones who've passed beyond the veil ahead of us. And in the case of the Day of the Dead, to remember that we, too, shall pass beyond the veil soon enough. Death being the great equalizer and all.
Several years ago I got to visit the tomb of my French ancestors with my mother on All Saints Day. We brought flowers (there it's mums, here it's marigolds), tidied up the area, and refreshed the gold paint on the names carved in stone. I was glad to be there. When you've moved around as much as I have, it's good to know where your roots are, even if they are an ocean away.
Hope you enjoy the pics. As you'll see, the Day of the Dead is a very colorful celebration. Click on the pics to make them bigger.
The community altar at Casa Ramirez. You can add names, photographs and offerings if you'd like.
Marigolds on the community altar. Marigolds are the flowers of the dead and the flowers of the Sun. Marigolds are everywhere during the Day of the Dead, but these didn't smell as much as I thought they would.
A corner of the community altar with photographs, sugar skulls and offerings.
You can also build your own family altar at the shop. This one includes the dearly departed's favorite foods: pickles, fish and chocolate.
This altar was lovingly built by the friends of the Cancer Diva, a woman who blogged about her cancer in the local newspaper. Based on the items they placed on it, she loved cats, Paris and girly things.
Note the skull in the mirror, over her left shoulder. They placed a skeleton in a chair facing the mirror, so that it appears in the mirror only at certain angles. Quite disconcerting at first.
This altar was built by the brothers of a boy who died at age six. When I approached it yesterday I felt a wave of grief sweep over me. It was the only altar with that kind of energy attached to it. I didn't know the story then. I do now. The boy, Lauro (Larry), fell into the deep end of pool while chasing after a butterfly. He died after a series of tragic delays and mishaps, including a accident in which his ambulance overturned.
Larry's brothers did a beautiful job telling the story of their brother's happy life, how it ended too soon, and how the family has grieved ever since (29 years), both in words and through this altar (those are his toys!). I feel honored to know about little Lauro.

A husband made this altar for his wife. It has a peaceful, calm feeling about it. Not completely sure why, it just does.
Another family's altar at Casa Ramirez. You can see how different they all are from one another. They're like visual and tactile and at times olfactory obituaries. Very personal.
The altars will be on display through Sunday, November 15th, so if you're in Houston and you haven't seen them in person, there's still time.
When I arrived at Casa Ramirez tonight, this woman was helping to set up the procession. She was also at the shop yesterday. I don't know her story; one of the altars may be hers. I found her interesting because she seemed to be here and yet not here, patient, peaceful and reverent. Whomever she is remembering was close and dear to her.
The following photos are of the procession held tonight just before sunset. You may see some people wearing or carrying photographs. These are their beloved dead, for whom they were walking tonight. I'm tired, so I'm just going to post the pictures in chronological order without commentary. I think they'll give you a sense of how it was. The incense being burned is copal, the traditional incense of the Day of the Dead.
Again, you can click on the pics to make them bigger.
At the front of the procession were the gracious owners of Casa Ramirez. Hope you can join the celebration next year.
Oh, yes, they call this little guy Chupacabra. He's a bat, but they call him a goat-blood-sucking vampire. He makes me laugh.