It is a big holiday, time when families visit the members who are no longer with them.
The sementeries are full of people and life. There are street vendors selling flowers, purple wreaths and candles to set on the graves.
People eat guaguas de pan, bread babies and colada morada, a traditional purple beverage.
|Picture is from Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Colada_morada.jpg|
Before Columbus and Catholic Church people made, not only babies, but animals, plants, anything that nature would give them.
On other hand, the day commemorates the dead and it's roots come from worshipping ancestors.
The dark moments of our life will last only as long as is necessary for God to accomplish His purpose in us.
In Latin America and in the Ecuadorian indigenous cultures the family is the shelter. The group that guards you against everything else. Your ancestors, parents, are the people who keep you safe as you keep your family safe.
While I enjoy my occational colada morada with guaguas de pan and love dearly my family and miss even more dearly the people who have already parted from us, while they are important to me... They are not my shelter.
What I do wish on this Day of the Deceaced is that my loved ones have found their shelter.
One day I wish to see them. Not their graves. Not spend time with the tumb. But meet them, hug them, tell them again that I love them.