tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4655467696511999992.post3169409910231744138..comments2008-12-05T08:38:25.459-08:00Crossing Bordershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00003653094162053116noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4655467696511999992.post-2002311147209226222008-12-05T08:38:00.000-08:002008-12-05T08:38:00.000-08:00Tannia, Tannia, Tannia<BR/><BR/>Your words just took me back to that night in Ocotepec. I remember much the same things you do- las ofrendas, el pan, the things that remind a family of a life they can't touch anymore. Día de los Muertos makes me think about the treatment of death. For me the United States has not been a culture of grieving nor has it been a culture of celebrating death. "Move on," "There's nothing you can do to change it now," "Don't waste time being sad," have come to be consistent (and trite) mantras in my life. But after being in Ocotepec and seeing a connection I still cannot really understand, I wonder, could there ever be a better reason to cry and to celebrate?Faye Whistonnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4655467696511999992.post-44981312971249268452008-12-02T15:38:00.000-08:002008-12-02T15:38:00.000-08:00I spent dia de los muertos in Tlayacapan watching my friends sing from their stomachs also remembering their ancestors, las letras de sus canciones flowed between nostalgia, español, esperanza, nahuatl and rhythms steady but rough. loud but soft. After me and Delía walk through the iglesia to look at the ofrendas/ disconnect/ on purpose? maybe the next day with her in Hueyapan we visited el panteon to prepare her abuelitas grave. Next to laughter, were tears and next to tears children playing tag beyond the flowers. I admire the history invoked on this day, though history to me is an enigma long before i entered this world my ancestors where gone, and all of my abuelas/os. My family began middle aged and many of the young ones ya have been taken, and so sometimes i feel like i am remembering and imagining history and my ancestors backwards , some of the young ones have gone already, and assimilation doesn´t leave much I feel that imagining a new future from these intersections while remembering pieces of the past is my taskElisabeth-Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13442900850493018966noreply@blogger.com