My dog Spirit and I are still in Terlingua, the old ghost town right at
the entrance of western Texas’ Big Bend National Park, and over two weekends
in late October and early November of 2007, we joined the community in celebrating
Viva La Historia (Long Live Our History) and Día de Los Muertos (Day of
the Dead). Both events are filled with emotions, colors and sounds.
For Viva La Historia, the last weekend in October, Terlingua had invited anyone
who has ever lived in this Chisos Mine area to return and share a few days awash
with memories, speeches, hugs, tears, laughter, music and food. It all began
on a Friday evening with a welcoming ceremony at the Porch and the Starlight
Theater, now a restaurant with a stage. Spirit and I had come as strangers just
passing by, but we found ourselves welcomed and included like family. Altogether,
about 250 people turned up - former residents who had come back with their
children - now adults - and with cousins, aunts, uncles and grandchildren.
As a school project, local students had researched and compiled the names
of all the families, who arrived throughout the afternoon.
As they checked in, there were embraces among forgotten faces but remembered
names.
At first, I expected that Spirit and I would just keep a step back and simply
watch the emotions flowing through the reunions of so many who had not seen each
other for years. Maybe I could just overhear the many stories. It was not my
weekend or event, but the kindness and open arms of the families here quickly
made us part of it all. We ate, laughed and witnessed firsthand the memories
so many were reliving.
On Saturday morning, vans were provided for the families to tour the more
distant, and now abandoned, residences. In the afternoon, under great weather,
tools where provided to help restore the cemetery where so many family members
and friends had been interred. It was adorned with memorabilia for the buried
- a bottle of wine, a peanut butter sandwich, a plate of chips and queso, perhaps
some loose change. There were surprises, emotions, thoughts, when so many discovered
family tombs at locations long forgotten or never seen. There was a sense of
closure and peace, gained through the knowledge that “now” they
knew their resting places. So many years had gone by. Still the memories had
not been forgotten. Shortly afterwards, in waves moving up the road, music and
dance began with old and young, some supported by their arms, moving up slowly
to the heart of cheerful times - a joy to feel and experience.
As the evening descended, tables and chairs were set up for a potluck dinner
- BBQ, homemade tamales, salads, desserts - right at the cemetery. It became
an occasion for everyone to sit down, talk and rekindle old acquaintances or
make new ones.
As darkness fell, a bonfire was lit. Candles were placed on every tomb and
stone, providing a softly lit aura for this cemetery that was once again filled
with the families of those who had passed.
Back up the road, more music followed, and with everyone full and content, it
was time for dancing and laughter - the end of an incredible celebration.
For Día de los Muertos, the next weekend and the first one in November,
the town again took on color in and around the cemetery.
The celebration is a
holiday borrowed from Mexico, where the Spanish borrowed it from the Indians
during colonial times. It is a time when families pray for the souls of the departed,
honoring them by erecting ofrendas, or
small altars with such things as flowers, coins, food and pictures. Again, many
brought food.
Everyone helped with lighting candles, which were placed on the cemetery’s
400 grave sites.
Some 200 of the burials have not been identified. Some had no more than a
simple, fallen wooden cross, the name long since having disappeared. Some had
no headstone at all. Some had been covered by brush. But they were all included
in the celebration, which is not - like Halloween - intended to be ghoulish
or scary. Rather, it is supposed to be fun and funny, the idea being to welcome
the spirits with favorite foods, bright colors, songs and laughter.
In the Día de los Muertos tradition, the dead need not be feared. Death
is regarded simply as part of the cycle of life. A celebration of past lives,
Día del los Muertos comes with music, joy and respect.
Everyone has left now, and Terlingua has returned to its daily routine. The
cemetery is empty of visitors, but it is still all dressed up with the ofrendas that will last until the next storm blows them all away. Still the memories linger.
This is life in the desert.
