This year, Carla Frey had a hard time finishing her usual offer in her Boucherville, Quebec. house.
Two months ago, her five-year-old neighbor and his mother died in a car accident.
She remembers how every year a little boy would come to her and ask questions about her. offer — an altar that she has erected annually for the past 15 years to honor the memory of departed loved ones.
Burdened by the thought of a mother dying with her son, Frey broke through and finished installing the altar. She took out photo frames, candles, decorative version of bread known as bread of the dead, shredded papermezcal, tequila and marigold (Mexican marigolds) and got to work.
“I was thinking about how much my little neighbor loves life. He loved mine offerand I made some for him – and for his mom,” Frey admitted, looking at a photo of two neighbors relaxing on top of the altar, a heart hovering above her.
This year, the curious five-year-old boy will visit her again, but in a different way.
“Now I feel good when I see the finished offer and I see them there. I’m happy,” Frey said.
Day of the Deador Day of the Dead, is a multi-day holiday starting from late October to early November, based on indigenous traditions and widely celebrated throughout Mexico.
People honor their deceased relatives, friends, children and pets by reflecting on, celebrating and decorating graves, cemeteries, streets and homes. They bring life back through memory, love and vibration.no flowers welcoming the dead.
In Quebec, the Mexican diaspora carries with them these ancestral traditions.
For Frey, who never celebrated Day of the Dead While she lives in Mexico City, this holiday is not just a way to reunite with her deceased loved ones, it has become a bridge between Quebec and her homeland.
Fighting death through memories of life
Every year, Frey gathers friends at her home, and each of them shares memories of their loved ones.
Frey puts mezcal, water and tequila on her altar because, as she explains, the dead are thirsty when they come to visit. And the smell of copal incense and photographs lead them to the right altar.
She noted that remembering the dead is very important, because if this is not done, they will die again – this time from sadness.
Putting all my emotions into offerings The years have helped her accept her father's death more easily. For her, this is an “opportunity for exchange.”
“It’s not just emotional, it’s something visual,” she said. “I feel like people need to see that this person is gone.”
After years of participating in Day of the Dead celebrations, the holiday took on new meaning for Gerardo Familiar Ferrer after he celebrated it with his indigenous friends in the mountains of Oaxaca, a state in southern Mexico known for its rich indigenous history.
“That moment really changed my understanding of Day of the Dead, and I have a lot more respect for the tradition,” Familiar Ferrer said.
At his home in Gatineau, Quebec, on the altar of a Ferrer acquaintance sits a small box containing the names of deceased loved ones, including his maternal grandmother.
His deep understanding of traditions allowed him to share email. Day of the Dead with others.
Over the past week, groups of people eager to discover Day of the Dead have gathered at UNAM-Canada in Gatineauwhere they embark on a thrilling journey that begins in a dimly lit cave.
This is not a real cave, but rather a replica of the setting that is key to understanding the Mexican holiday.
“For the indigenous people of Mexico, caves and caverns are points of contact between the afterlife and the living world,” explained Familiar Ferrer, who works for UNAM-Canada, a language school that runs free tours.
When visitors enterAt one of the tour's burials, the air is filled with different aromas: fir, sage, cedar and copal – a smell designed to convey the mood of Mexican cemeteries.
exhibition The cemetery shimmers with marigolds, skeletons, flickering candles and Xoloitzcuintle, the dog that accompanies souls.
The tour, which runs until November 8, is one of several examples of Mexican Quebecers sharing their traditions with a wider audience.
Rafael Benitez, Montreal resident, interim director and co-founder PAAL Let's share the worldorganizing a city Day of the Dead Festival also helped him channel his grief into connecting with others.
When he was five years old, his sister died at birth. And just recently his mother died.
“[The festival] helped me a lot in my own grieving process and in understanding my mother’s transition to another stage of life, death and cycle,” he said.
“I'm not afraid to die”
Although the first festival was more intimate, over the years it has become a space for cross-cultural exchange.
Organizers are holding an event on Saturday that will feature about 10 themed altars.
“I want [people] remember that in Montreal, intercultural dialogue is productive and can lead to good results,” Benitez said.
For Benitez, each publication is also an opportunity to recognize the resilience of indigenous peoples, from Comcaaq in Mexico to Kanienqueh:ka, in preserving ancestral traditions.
Both nations will be present at the event on Saturday.
“I'm very grateful because they've suffered a lot in the past for us to be able to present this today,” he said.
And people celebrating the holiday have a message for the uninitiated: despite ideas about death and grief, He Day of the Dead not intended to frighten.
“The second of November is a day of reflection, reflecting on everything these people did for me, the moments I spent with them,” said Carla Frey, a Boucherville resident, with a beaming smile and infectious energy.
“It's a joyful day, it's not a sad day.”
Frey carefully curates her offerthis is her chance to show her daughters that when the time comes, she wants them to pay her the tribute she paid to her loved ones.
“I want the girls to see how much I love them. That way they know I want to be there,” Frey said.
“I'm not afraid to die… I'm someone who lives life to the fullest.”
