Dia de Los Muertos en Atzompa

Atzompa is a small town with traditional Dia de Los Muertos celebrations.  We gathered, five of us, to load into Nicholas's van at 12:45am on Thursday morning.  We were sleepy and a little hesitant about our nighttime journey.  When we arrived at the cemetary, there was jarring music to greet us.  Horns, guitars and a musical act, that seemed more suited to a Las Vegas bar than this ethereal Day of the Dead celebration, belted out songs and serenades. 
I took only one picture of this event, wishing I could capture the surreal and ethereal nature of this night, but not wanting to offend or intrude on the families gathered here.  Just about every gravesite had a family group seated around the large mound of dirt that marked the site.  This alone, the earthy, rounded mountain of dirt, was enough to evoke feeling, no flat, tidy grass blanket-here it seemed,the dead could easily reach out from their covering of soil.  I walked around this cemetary, trying to engage with the energy and connect with the deeper aspects of what was unfolding.  The event was so different than anything I had experienced, it seemed almost impossible to do this. 
Nicholas, our guide, talked about his own development in understanding the deeper meanings of Dia de Los Muertos.  He said as a child he thought of this as a party, a time to be with his friends, have fun.  As he has grown, has children of his own, his feelings for this are much more reflective, he thinks of his own death now.  I think about Nicholas, that he has spent his whole life with this event, once a year, this gathering of community, connecting around death, loss, grief, giving solace to one another, sharing stories.  I try to imagine, think about, what this does for a community.  Someone told us that people who, prior to their loved ones' deaths, didn't know one another but become friends and support to one another because the gravesites of their loved ones are next to each other. 
As Cate and I talked about this evening of being surrounded by the flower smells, the smoke of the copal incense, the families, we began to feel more connected to the deeper aspects that are clearly present in this celebration.  They are not feelings that can be described in words so very easily.  Silence might describe them best and in that silence the total of the event:  the graves, the band, the food stands, all make sense.