day after day of the dead

i hope some of you made it to the day of the dead





procession and altars on friday night. these photos don't even come close to this incredible sensory and emotional experience. rich was was sick with the flu and i ventured out at bedtime with both kids because i wanted them to be with me. at 24th and bryant things were starting up, with a crowd gathering, and then things started happening on the four corners. intense native american (sadly i don't know who they are? aztec?) dancers with animal skulls and rattling beads and feathers all over their bodies danced and chanted. people started playing drums. skeleton people drifted by, danced, walked on stilts. the air is full of incense. a woman walks by with a box hanging around her neck, the top and front cut out. a candle burned in the bottom of the box, surrounded by photos of people (her parents?) on the sides. we see some friends. the kids are just quiet and taking things in. a marching band goes by with ghost dancers. ghost prisoners in chains. we enter the procession and walk slowly down the middle of bryant street. it is so beautiful at night with all the candles everywhere. maya waves and says hello through her pacifier to the people she sees watching from their steps and windows. eerie very ancient sounding bagpipe music floats by. a car-sized stand of indonesian drums comes soon after. there are people laughing and talking, most serious, most looking happy. a group goes by singing give peace a chance. a silly guy tries to crack a whip on his front porch and he hits himself accidentally and catches my eye and we laugh.

now we arrive at garfield park. there is a tree with altars all around and fruit hanging from strings. we see that another part of the park has candles and altars all around odd shapes on the ground and then realize the shapes are the americas. there is a lot of strange and beautiful art. miles notices a baby skeleton in a sculpture's belly. there are names on stones and paper and flowers all over. there is a pile of shoes with nametags. are these shoes of people who died? asks miles, very unexpectedly, and i say yes. by the shoes is a big maze of paper bags and people are walking through it with nametagged shoes, some ending by a fence covered with huge b and w photos. i overhear someone explain that the shoes are from immigrants who died trying to cross the border, and the bags represent their journey, and the fence the end of the journey. i don't quite understand and then hear someone say it is about the war, but nevertheless we walk through and tie a shoe on the fence.

this music and the mood and the candles are so uplifting. it is a gorgeous fall night in the mission. of course you think about people lost, and some strains of music might make a tear come, but it is a celebration. i'm sure it is something different for everyone. come next year if you can.