Dear Friends,
This morning Zing and I were leaving the farmers market, bags full of grapes and fish and a beautiful loaf of whole wheat bread, when we noticed an almost-adjacent fair just down the alley. So we went. There were a few things for sale, yes, but this was not a market. Mostly the booths were memorials. “This is a tradition of indigenous Mexican people from before the Spanish arrived,” a man told me. He had stepped back to look at the placement of family photos and a ceremonial bottle of beer on his altar. “We celebrate our ancestors. You are not dead until you are forgotten.”
Sounds sad, and it is, but there was candy and a bandstand and bright colors everywhere. Orange marigolds are the symbol for Día de los Muertos, November 2.
Love,
k
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