Day of the Dead: Oaxaca 2010

As Americans don funny or spooky costumes and go door-to-door collecting Halloween treats, Mexico gears up for Day of the Dead, one of the country's most important and breathtaking festivities. Both holidays are rooted in the same Catholic tradition, with "All Hallows Eve" (October 31) followed by All Saints Day (Nov. 1, also called All Hallows or Hallowmas) and All Souls Day (November 2). But whereas Halloween is a time of campy horror, mischief and pranking, Day of the Dead is both somber and joyful, a time when Mexicans of all ages pay homage to deceased relatives, honoring them with altars, parties and gifts.

Despite having lived nearly a year in Oaxaca, and five years in Mexico at the time, it wasn't until last year that Aran and I spent Day of the Dead in this city known for one of the holiday's most elaborate and colorful celebrations. Oaxaca is a sensual feast under the most mundane of circumstances; during Day of the Dead, the sights, sounds and tastes are all-consuming. This year we'll celebrate Dia de Muertos in our new adopted home of Valle de Bravo, but Oaxaca is always close to our hearts during this time. Here are some images from last year's trip.

The centerpiece of the holiday is the ofrenda, the altar built to honor friends and family who have passed away. The ofrenda is decorated with photos of the deceased, their favorite food, drink and candies, marigolds, candles, skulls and skeletons and colorful cut paper (papel picado). Here is an image of an altar at the Bugambilias bed and breakfast in Oaxaca, along with a Catrina, the iconic elegant skeleton lady, and another whimsical skeleton figure.

Cities around the world have displayed cows, bears and and other sculptures painted by well-known artists. Oaxaca commissioned oversized skulls. This is image of one of many that lined the pedestrian walkway on Allende.

A mural in nearby San Agustin de las Etlas reads: "Death waits for us everywhere, but if we're prudent everywhere, we wait for it."

The municipal cemetary is the site of raucous parties. "Here eternity starts, and wordly grandeur turns to dust."

We spent the evening of November 2 in the cemetery with friends from the foreign and Oaxacan community, remembering Thorny Robison, who with his wife Jane, owned and ran the bed and breakfast Casa Colonial. Thorny was killed in a car accident in 2008 but his memory lives on. Here, mariachis get the party going, in front of a portrait of Thorny. The eating, drinking and dancing, next to Thorny's grave, went late into the night.

On the way home, we caught a glimpse of this partygoer, passed out with his favorite toy.