Celebrating the Night of the Dead festival in Pátzcuaro, Mexico — an exceptional experience

by Ann Cabot; Austin, TX

Perhaps you’ve heard about Oaxaca’s Day of the Dead festival, but have you heard of the Night of the Dead festival in Pátzcuaro? No? Neither had I until I joined an exceptional 2011 tour to Mexico designed to give visitors a very personal experience.

Settling in

The journey to Pátzcuaro was 45 minutes by taxi from Morelia, which is two hours by air from Houston, Texas. Our group stayed at Villa Victoria B&B, a 19th-century adobe casa conveniently located 1½ blocks from the town’s central plaza.

All the rooms had fireplaces and were decorated with handicrafts and tangerine-colored bedding. The villa’s garden was heavenly, with pomegranate trees, roses and blooming lilies visited by small, white butterflies and purple hummingbirds.

Pátzcuaro, built over the ruins of a pre-Columbian Tarascan city, is one of the earliest colonial municipalities in the Americas. This town has enforced a color scheme for the outside of its stucco buildings — russet-red and white walls trimmed in pink — resulting in a uniform appearance.

Pátzcuaro has a large central square, Plaza Vasco de Quiroga, where an enormous craft market is held in conjunction with the Night of the Dead festivities. Craftsmen and women from surrounding towns set up their jewelry, carving, pottery and textile handicrafts in the plaza, and buyers, like me, arrive with high hopes of finding original treasures.

Festival preparations

The people of Pátzcuaro, with its large indigenous Tarascan, or Purépecha, population, celebrate Noche de Muertos by decorating graves and spending the night of November 1st in the cemetery awaiting the arrival of their familial spirits.

Musical groups and craft displays in the Plaza Vasco de Ouiroga were already in full swing when I visited on October 30th. Lively buying and selling were the order of the day.

Tamales wrapped in corn husks, roasted sweet potatoes, chayote squash steamed over hot coals, fruit-flavored ice cream, with Spanish names, and pastries filled with cream were available and welcomed by the shopped-out tourists.

Local women came to Villa Victoria to prepare tortillas, bean soup and chayote squash filled with tuna to nibble on. And if that wasn’t enough, on the way to the plaza there was a bakery that produced free pastries hourly, so food was plentiful and delicious. (I often bought a cream-filled pastry to enjoy with my hot tea before bedtime.)

Adding to the festive atmosphere, gold marigolds and crimson cockscomb flowers were tied to light posts and building columns; unpeeled bananas and oval wheat buns were added to the flowers as food for the visiting spirits. It was a very happy setting, and I spent long hours in the market browsing, sampling unidentifiable ice cream flavors and resting on a bench to watch children play.

Island escape

On October 31st, our group took a much-needed respite from shopping and boarded a boat to Janitzio, one of several small islands in the middle of Lake Pátzcuaro. In former days it was a refuge for the indigenous Tarascan people, but these days it is a popular day-outing destination for Mexican tourists. The entire view is dotted with spires of extinct volcanoes. Although none are active now, their past activity has permanently shaped this part of Mexico.

Our arrival on the island coincided with groups of local fishermen rowing their boats toward Pátzcuaro, their butterfly-shaped nets decorated with golden marigold blossoms. Their trip was made in order to receive a blessing for the next year’s harvest.

In the evening, we prepared an altar in our villa to remember our loved ones, in the spirit of the Night of the Dead tradition. We took turns arranging marigolds, white baby’s breath and fuchsia cockscomb blooms on our altar. It is believed that the returning spirits see the living as gold and purple, so using these flowers helps them find their loved ones.

The sharp, pungent smell of so many marigold flowers permeated the air in the villa courtyard. To complete the altar, orange lights were strung to outline the space, and white candles were lit.

Festival day

On the morning of the Night of the Dead festival, church bells were my alarm clock. They seemed to ring out more enthusiastically than on previous days.

After breakfast, our leader called us around the altar that we had begun assembling the previous night. Now it included a box of chocolates, a man’s scarf, playing cards, greenish-gray tobacco leaves and a Janis Joplin CD — all memorabilia of our loved ones. (My mother’s watch was among the items.)

Our leader marked a spot with red embers and drizzles of tequila, saying, “Spirits, here we are,” as she explained the tradition of inviting those whom we had lost to death to return on this day. Each person in our group had a chance to name their loved one and add a lit candle to the altar.

The mood was pensive and expectant. Who knew what would happen in the hours to come? In any case, we were able to better understand the cemetery vigil we would witness a few hours later.

In the afternoon we witnessed a cavalcade of a thousand horses and riders, caballeros, who arrived at the Basilica of Our Virgin of Health to receive Mass. Everywhere there were signs of the evening’s coming festivities, and back at the villa our activities were accelerating too.

Arrangements had been made for us to help a family decorate their loved one’s grave, so we arrived at the little cemetery in Tzurumútaro, a community of 20,000, armed with two dozen orange gladiolas, two bunches of marigolds and sprigs of baby’s breath. We also brought four bottles of wine, three loaves of traditional pan de muerto, or bread baked in the shape of a human body, and candles. Candy and lighted wristbands were saved for the kids.

Our gifts made quite a stir with the younger set, while the family attending the grave was very grateful for our food, decorating help and company during their vigil in the cold night air.

They shared a hot drink made from sugarcane and offered us seating on rugs laid on the ground. We all took turns walking around the candlelit graves, taking photos and trying to take in the amazing sights.

Almost every grave had a flowered arch decorated with fruit and bread, and each mounded grave was covered in yellow marigold petals. Many also had crosses decorated in flowers along with photos of the deceased.

Family members sat around the graves keeping vigil, while burning incense gave off exotic aromas. The entire scene was lit only by candles, but they were so numerous that the entire graveyard glowed.

We stayed there for two hours before traveling on to an even smaller cemetery, finally returning to our villa in the early morning hours. It was a profoundly moving experience as well as an opportunity to experience a living heritage event unique to that part of the world.

The details

This tour was organized and led by Joan Griffith, owner of the Wild Wood Café in Austin, Texas (soon to be reopening as Wild Wood Bake House). Joan is a knowledgeable guide who specializes in tours that include artist visits and local festivals.

The 8-day tour was priced at $175 per day, including meals, accommodations, driver/guide and all ground transportation. For information on upcoming tours, contact Joan at Authentic Presence Tours (512/797-9559).

Villa Victoria B&B (Navarrete #45, Centro Historico, Pátzcuaro; phone, in the US and Canada, 250/361-5871) has five unique suites, each with its own fireplace. Homemade breakfasts prepared by local cooks are served in the spacious living and dining common area. The private walled garden is available to guests for quiet relaxation.