I first experienced El Día de los Muertos in Oaxaca, México, where I studied at La Universidad Mesoamericana with my sister Emily during the fall semester of 1999. I have vivid memories of dusk falling on those days in la Ciudad de Oaxaca. Thousands of candles were flickering throughout the zócalo (the town square), and there was color everywhere. Vibrant sand sculptures formed skeletons and the blossoms of bright orange marigolds made bold borders around the art. It was celebratory, but it was reverent.
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