Day of the ... You Know

No Longer Among Us:  And you thought the holidays were over!  True, the three High Holidays (Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Fashion Week) have strutted by.  Sukkot (Outdoor Insect Week), Shemini Atzeret (The Mystery Holiday), and Simhat Torah have finished their runs.  The beloved Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta has blown away.  So what's next?

The next Jewish holiday is, of course, Thanksgiving.  But before we get there, we've got to get through Halloween, All Saints Day, and - Dia de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead.  Here in New Mexico, the general (non-Jewish) public celebrates all three.

If you're not from around here, Dia de los Muertos can take a bit of getting used to.  And Abq Jew cordially invites everyone to celebrate Dia de los Muertos in Albuquerque.  But no, it's not Halloween!  Think of Dia de los Muertos as Halloween on steroids. 

Now, we Jews have our own rituals with the ... no longer living.  As but one example - Gail Rubin, aka The Doyenne of Death, explains Tahara in her latest post in her blog, The Family Plot.  And as Abq Jew explained in two previous posts - Torah and Talmud and Zombies and The Final Tisch: No Zombies - normative Judaism can steer very close to the macabre.  Still, the Day of the Dead makes Yizkor look like a walk in the ... park, let's say.

New Mexico is nothing if not multicultural, and Abq Jew strongly believes that members and adherents of different cultures can co-exist and treat each other with dignity and respect.  But ....

To help you attain the proper understanding of Dia de los Muertos - this old Mexican and hence New Mexican holy day - Abq Jew offers the complete text (and illustration!) of Dear Mountain Room Parents, by Maria Semple, which appears in the Shouts & Murmurs section of the October 24th issue of The New Yorker.

Note:  Abq Jew seldom reprints entire articles.  But this piece was too short and too juicy to chop up.  Therefore, Abq Jew exhorts you: Subscribe to The New Yorker!

Warning!!!
This is not a How To article!
Do not attempt this at home or in your school!

Illustration: Jordan Awan

Hi, everyone!

The Mountain Room is gearing up for its Day of the Dead celebration on Friday. Please send in photos of loved ones for our altar. All parents are welcome to come by on Wednesday afternoon to help us make candles and decorate skulls.

Thanks!

Emily

Hi again.

Because I’ve gotten some questions about my last e-mail, there is nothing “wrong” with Halloween. The Day of the Dead is the Mexican version, a time of remembrance. Many of you chose Little Learners because of our emphasis on global awareness. Our celebration on Friday is an example of that. The skulls we’re decorating are sugar skulls. I should have made that more clear.

Emily

Parents:

Some of you have expressed concern about your children celebrating a holiday with the word “dead” in it. I asked Eleanor’s mom, who’s a pediatrician, and here’s what she said: “Preschoolers tend to see death as temporary and reversible. Therefore, I see nothing traumatic about the Day of the Dead.” I hope this helps.

Emily

Dear Parents:

In response to the e-mail we all received from Maddie’s parents, in which they shared their decision to raise their daughter dogma-free, yes, there will be an altar, but please be assured that the Day of the Dead is a pagan celebration of life and has nothing to do with God. Keep those photos coming!

Emily

Hello.

Perhaps “pagan” was a poor word choice. I feel like we’re veering a bit off track, so here’s what I’ll do. I’ll start setting up our altar now, so that today at pickup you can see for yourselves how colorful and harmless the Day of the Dead truly is.

Emily

Parents:

The photos should be of loved ones who have passed. Max’s grandma was understandably shaken when she came in and saw a photo of herself on our altar. But the candles and skulls were cute, right?

Emily

Mountain Room Parents:

It’s late and I can’t possibly respond to each and every e-mail. (Not that it comes up a lot in conversation, but I have children, too.) As the skulls have clearly become a distraction, I decided to throw them away. They’re in the compost. I’m looking at them now. You can, too, tomorrow at drop-off. I just placed a “NO BASURA” card on the bin to make sure it doesn’t get emptied. Finally, to those parents who are offended by our Day of the Dead celebration, I’d like to point out that there are parents who are offended that you are offended.

Emily

Dear Parents:

Thanks to their group e-mail, we now know that the families of Millie and Jaden M. recognize Jesus Christ as their Saviour. There still seems to be some confusion about why, if we want to celebrate life, we’re actually celebrating death. To better explain this “bewildering detour,” I’ve asked Adela, who works in the office and makes waffles for us on Wednesdays, and who was born in Mexico, to write you directly.

Emily

Hola a los Padres:

El Día de los Muertos begins with a parade through the zócalo, where we toss oranges into decorated coffins. The skeletons drive us in the bus to the cemetery and we molest the spirits from under the ground with candy and traditional Mexican music. We write poems called calaveras, which laugh at the living. In Mexico, it is a rejoicing time of ofrendas, picnics, and dancing on graves.

Adela

Parents:

I sincerely apologize for Adela’s e-mail. I would have looked it over, but I was at my daughter’s piano recital. (Three kids, in case you’re wondering, one who’s allergic to everything, even wind.) For now, let’s agree that e-mail has reached its limits. How about we process our feelings face to face? 9 A.M. tomorrow?

Emily

Dear Parents:

Some of you chose to engage in our dialogue. Some chose to form a human chain. Others had jobs (!) to go to. So we’re all up to speed, let me recap this morning’s discussion:

• Satan isn’t driving our bus. Little Learners does not have a bus. If we did, I wouldn’t still need parent drivers for the field trip to the cider mill. Anyone? I didn’t think so.

• Ofrenda means “offering.” It’s just a thing we put on the altar. Any random thing. A bottle of Fanta. Unopened, not poisoned. Just a bottle of Fanta.

• We’re moving past the word “altar” and calling it what it really is: a Seahawks blanket draped over some cinder blocks.

• Adela will not be preparing food anymore and Waffle Wednesdays will be suspended. (That didn’t make us any new friends in the Rainbow and Sunshine Rooms!)

• On Friday morning, I will divide the Mountain Room into three groups: those who wish to celebrate the Day of the Dead; those who wish to celebrate Halloween; and Maddie, who will make nondenominational potato prints in the corner.

Dear Mountain Room Parents:

Today I learned not to have open flames in the same room as a costume parade. I learned that a five-dollar belly-dancer outfit purchased at a pop-up costume store can easily catch fire, but, really, I knew that just by looking at it. I learned that Fanta is effective in putting out fires. I learned that a child’s emerging completely unscathed from a burning costume isn’t a good enough outcome for some parents. I learned that I will be unemployed on Monday. For me, the Day of the Dead will always be a time of remembrance.

Happy Halloween!

Emily