A photo essay about November 2nd, Día de los Difuntos, also known as Day of the Dead, not to be confused with the similar, but distinct, Mexican holiday, Día de los Muertos.
At 10:30am, we arrive at cemetery #1 in Ilumán, my host community.
My host sister, Laymi, posing with flowers for the dead.
My host brother, Yauri, joining other children playing on top of the graves.
Selling chocolate covered strawberries and candied apples in the cemetery.
Everyone brings food, which is shared with family, friends and strangers.
It was a crowded, but beautiful day.
Next stop, the bigger, busier, Otavalo cemetery. This is the indigenous side of the cemetery, the mestizos have their own section.
One tradition during Día de los Difuntos is los rezadores, which means the prayers. They walk around the cemetery with holy water and prayer books and pray for your ancestors in exchange for a bowl of food.
Wawas de pan, which I talked about my post in 5 Things Kichwa Has Taught Me About Indigenous Culture, being sold along the path into the cemetery.
Last stop, the Cotacachi cemetery, we got there around 2pm, when most of the celebration was over, so it was pretty calm, and you could see the beautiful flower arrangements left by the families.
Día de los Difuntos was a long day for me, I wore the traditional dress all day, and almost passed out from the fabric holding my skirt up, and we visited three different cemeteries where different members of my family were buried, but all things considered, it was a good day.
Till next time,