{"id":519,"date":"2025-10-28T09:00:00","date_gmt":"2025-10-28T08:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/coffinfolk.se\/?p=519"},"modified":"2025-10-29T22:53:58","modified_gmt":"2025-10-29T21:53:58","slug":"dia-de-muertos-de-dodas-dag","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/coffinfolk.se\/en\/dia-de-muertos-de-dodas-dag\/","title":{"rendered":"Dia de Muertos (Day of the Dead)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Death can feel heavy and frightening \u2013 but in Mexico it is met with color, music, and humor. D\u00eda de Muertos is a reminder that our loved ones never truly leave us, as long as we remember them.
Here you can read about the celebration of the \u201cDay of the Dead,\u201d which, despite its theme, is anything but gloomy. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A blend of the old and the new<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

The tradition of honoring the dead has its roots in pre-Columbian cultures, going back as far as 3,000 years. When Christianity came to Mexico, Catholic beliefs were woven together with the ancient ceremonies. The celebration was moved to coincide with the Christian holidays All Saints\u2019 Day (November 1) and All Souls\u2019 Day (November 2).<\/p>\n\n\n

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<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The mascot La Catrina<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

La Catrina, the skeleton dressed as an upper-class lady, was created as a satirical figure by Mexican artist Jos\u00e9 Guadalupe Posada in the early 1900s. Posada used her to criticize people who tried to imitate the European elite and were ashamed of their own roots.

Later, artist Diego Rivera painted La Catrina in his mural Sue\u00f1o de una tarde dominical en la Alameda Central<\/em> (1947). There she stands in full figure, wearing a feathered hat and a long dress, alongside Posada and Rivera himself as a child. You can see the mural HERE<\/a>.
After this, she gained her iconic status as the mascot of D\u00eda de Muertos.

Today, La Catrina is a symbol of both life and death, humor and seriousness. She reminds us that death is universal, but also something that can be faced with pride, color, and a touch of irony.
During D\u00eda de Muertos, many people dress up as La Catrina with skeleton-style face paint, often combined with colorful flowers, clothing, and jewelry.
She has become a bridge between the old and the new, between satire, art, and popular tradition.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A colorful celebration through the night<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Death is not seen as the end, but as a natural part of life. By celebrating together with their dead, families keep their memories alive and strengthen the bonds between generations.

Decorated graves<\/strong>
Similar to our tradition of lighting candles on graves during All Saints\u2019 Day, families gather at cemeteries to clean and decorate the grave sites with flowers and candles.

Ofrendas<\/strong>
At home or at the cemetery, families prepare an altar to welcome their deceased relative back for a night of celebration among the living. The altar is decorated with candles, flowers, photographs, and personal items.

Marigolds<\/strong>
It is said that the bright color and scent of the flowers help the souls find their way back to their families.
In addition to decorating the ofrendas, marigold petals are often scattered along the path from the grave to the home \u2013 a golden trail for the soul to follow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Food and drink<\/strong>
In addition to placing the deceased\u2019s favorite food and drink on the altar, families prepare traditional dishes such as the sweet pan de muerto (\u201cbread of the dead\u201d) and the iconic treats calaveras de az\u00facar <\/strong>(sugar skulls).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Music, dance, and festivities<\/strong>
In the streets, colorful parades with music, singing, and dancing take place.
At home, families eat and drink, sing, laugh, tell stories, and share memories of the deceased.

Calaveras literarias<\/strong>
With short poems or verses about death, people lovingly poke fun at the deceased. In calaveras literarias aimed at a living person <\/strong>, one \u201cpretends\u201d the person has already died or is just being collected by Death, while keeping the tone lighthearted. Famous figures and politicians are not spared from receiving a witty jab either.
The tradition began in Mexico in the 1800s, when newspapers published similar satirical texts around D\u00eda de Muertos.

These texts are a way to demystify death with humor while also remembering and honoring the person. They are also an expression of Mexican folk satire, where laughter is used as a counterbalance to the fear of death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

D\u00eda de Muertos in Sweden<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

In Sweden, D\u00eda de Muertos is acknowledged and celebrated through various events, mainly in larger cities. Museums and associations host exhibitions, performances, and workshops about the colorful Mexican death culture.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

Just like the playful celebration of Halloween, D\u00eda de Muertos can clash with the quieter traditions of All Saints\u2019 Day in Sweden.
Spend the day \u2013 or night \u2013 in the way that feels right for you.
Colorful or subdued, with song and dance or in silence \u2013 there is space for everyone.
Show respect for those who choose differently, but don\u2019t let anyone take your traditions away from you, whether they are inherited from generations past or something you\u2019ve created yourself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Would you like to take part in the D\u00eda de Muertos celebration?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

A short story with Quinley & Herrow<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
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Who are Quinley and Herrow?<\/strong>
In Coffinfolk Caf\u00e9\u2019s stand alone short stories, you\u2019ll meet two most unlikely friends: 
Quinley<\/strong> \u2013 Coffinfolk\u2019s caf\u00e9 host. A young woman who loves life just as much as she loves exploring the cultural heritage of death and sharing advice, information, and insights that can help people \u2013 whether they are facing their own encounter with Death or living with grief.
Herrow<\/strong> \u2013 Death himself. He may look frightening in his black cloak, but beneath the bones is a kind soul who enjoys a cup of coffee and sharing experiences gathered from every corner of time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You can find a longer introduction + a short story about their first meeting HERE<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMemories That Never Die\u201d<\/strong>
Narrated by Quinley<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I like to think I\u2019m good at many things. Face painting is definitely not<\/em> on that list.
For the fifth time, I plunged into the sink and washed away my attempt at a sugar skull makeup. Even if no one else could see me, I didn\u2019t want to dishonor another culture with something that looked more like war paint than celebration.
\u201cI give up\u2026\u201d I muttered as I wiped my face with a towel.
Herrow\u2019s comforting voice answered from the caf\u00e9, where we had said goodbye to the last guests hours ago.
\u201cBring the brush and the paint, and we\u2019ll sort it out.\u201d
Can the Grim Reaper paint? Well, it could hardly turn out worse than my own attempts.

When I rounded the corner into the caf\u00e9, I almost dropped the palette in my hands.
Apparently, I wasn\u2019t the only one who wanted to dress up for our trip tonight.
On the sofa sat Herrow, dressed in an elegant gown that looked like it belonged to the early 1900s, with a matching hat so beautifully decorated with pearls, flowers, and feathers that only a fine lady could have afforded to wear such a piece of art.
\u201cH-Herrow\u2026?\u201d I stammered, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

I jumped when I heard his voice right next to me, dressed in his black robe as usual.
\u201cThere\u2019s someone I want you to meet, Quinley.\u201d He carefully slipped the brush and palette from my hand. \u201cMay I introduce La Catrina.\u201d With an encouraging nudge, he broke my trance. \u201cLa Catrina, this is my friend Quinley, the one I\u2019ve told you about.\u201d
On stiff legs, I approached the woman on the sofa. She leaned forward, stretched out her hands, and took mine in hers.
\u201cSo lovely to meet you, Quinley! Come now, sit.\u201d She patted the spot beside her. \u201cLet\u2019s get you ready for the evening.\u201d The Reaper handed her the brush and palette. Even though she, like Herrow, was only a skeleton, I could hear the smile in her voice. She brushed aside a few strands of hair from my face with a bony finger. \u201cIs this your first time celebrating D\u00eda de Muertos?\u201d
I gave a short nod as she began painting with a steady hand.
\u201cI hope you\u2019ve got comfortable shoes, so you can dance for hours,\u201d La Catrina giggled.
\u201cI\u2014I can\u2019t dance. Not even when no one\u2019s watching.\u201d
La Catrina paused and tilted her head.
\u201cNonsense! In death\u2019s company, anyone can dance, mija<\/em>.\u201d I felt the brush continue its own dance across my face. \u201cIf you let the music move your body, you\u2019re doing it right. What matters is how it feels, not how it looks.\u201d

\u201cMay I ask\u2026 why are you here? Why me? I have no ties to Mexico, other than\u2026 curiosity.\u201d
La Catrina set down the brush on the table, crossed her legs, and folded her hands over one knee.
\u201cIsn\u2019t that enough? I am like Se\u00f1or Reaper here\u2014\u201d she nodded toward Herrow \u201c\u2014you see your own personification of me. I am not the only La Catrina, but I am your<\/em> La Catrina, mija<\/em>.\u201d She patted my knee. \u201cHerrow is a good friend of mine, and his friends are my friends. Let me show you a very special holiday in my people\u2019s life\u2026 and death.\u201d
I nodded again, this time with a big smile.
The Reaper took one of my hands, and the iconic figure of D\u00eda de los Muertos took the other. I squeezed my eyes shut as the familiar gust of wind swept across my face.

Even before I opened my eyes, I could feel we were no longer in the caf\u00e9.
The evening sun warmed my skin, and the scent of fresh flowers tickled my nose.
\u201cWelcome to M\u00e9xico<\/em>, mija<\/em>!\u201d La Catrina wrapped an arm around my waist. \u201cWhat shall we do first? See the parade? Dance? Taste\u2014ah, no, that\u2019s right, you can\u2019t eat or drink during these travels, can you?\u201d Just as she said it, a group of costumed girls passed straight through us as if we were nothing but air\u2014which we were, to everyone else here.
I stumbled out of reflex. Herrow was quickly at my side, steadying me.
\u201cMija<\/em>, you have every right to be here. You are my guest. Stand tall, take your place, even if no one else can see you.\u201d I did as she said.
When I glanced at a shop window behind us, I caught a glimpse of our reflection.
\u201cWe look like a\u2014\u201d
\u201cFamilia<\/em>?\u201d La Catrina finished with a laugh, resting her chin on my shoulder. \u201cThat\u2019s what this day is about, mija<\/em>. Honoring and remembering, but also strengthening the bonds between people\u2014living and dead.\u201d
I peeked at Herrow, standing at my other side.
\u201cQuinley isn\u2019t too fond of noisy parties. Perhaps we could visit a cemetery and see the ofrendas<\/em>?\u201d Herrow\u2019s suggestion made La Catrina clap her hands.
\u201cOf course! Come along!\u201d The fine lady took the lead, and we followed after.
\"Thanks, Dad<\/em>,\u201d I whispered to Herrow with a crooked smile. He answered with a gentle pat on my head.

I felt almost like a soul visiting from the other side as we followed the trail of scattered golden marigolds along the path. The cemetery was full of life and movement. Some families decorated graves with flowers and candles; others prepared ofrendas, the altars dedicated to their loved ones.
We stopped at each ofrenda. Of course, I didn\u2019t know any of them, but their altars painted such a vivid picture of who they had been.

When night began to fall, we found a bench to sit on. I listened to the songs being sung, with La Catrina humming along. She translated for me as a family joked about their late grandfather. They laughed until tears ran down their cheeks. There is something so liberating about laughing together in grief.

La Catrina leaned closer.
\u201cMija<\/em>, who do you remember tonight?\u201d
I thought for a moment. More than one person came to mind, but tonight there was one name that needed a little extra care to find peace in my heart.
\"My dad.\"
\u201cPap\u00e1<\/em>? What would you place on his ofrenda<\/em>?\"
\u201cVinyl records. He loved music. His apartment was filled with it, from floor to ceiling.\u201d I turned to Herrow. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t be surprised if he tried to bribe Death himself into staying a little longer, just by listening to music together.\u201d
Herrow let out his raspy chuckle and brushed away a tear from my cheek. La Catrina squeezed my hand.
\u201cDon\u2019t cry, mija<\/em>. Tears water the flowers on our ofrendas<\/em>, but his memory lives in your laughter.\u201d She leaned a little closer. \u201cWhat else? What would you offer him to eat and drink when he visits tonight?\u201d
\u201cHe\u2019d definitely want cigarettes and whiskey. A big one, no ice,\u201d I replied with a grimace. That made all three of us burst out laughing.

We walked down one of the less crowded streets. From open windows came music, voices, and laughter.
La Catrina began moving to the rhythm and nudged me with her bony hip.
I guessed there was no escaping anymore. Grabbing Herrow for moral support, I began to dance too.
\"That's it, mija<\/em>\u2014don\u2019t think, just dance! Stand tall, take your place! The night is ours!\u201d
She had been right earlier: in Death\u2019s company, anyone can dance.

I don\u2019t know what time it was when I finally came home and collapsed into bed.
The last thing I remembered was a bony hand stroking my cheek.

When I woke the next morning, I thought at first it had all been a dream. But in the bathroom mirror, I saw the same beautiful makeup I had glimpsed in that shop window in Mexico.
\u201cThank you, La Catrina. My<\/em> La Catrina\u2026\u201d
I washed away the traces of my first D\u00eda de los Muertos. Now it was time to create new memories with the living again, in Death\u2019s company. He\u2014or she\u2014is always present: in everyday life and celebration, in tears and in laughter.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Death can feel heavy and frightening \u2013 but in Mexico it is met with color, music, and humor. D\u00eda de Muertos is a reminder that our loved ones never truly leave us, as long as we remember them.
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