As you walked through the streets of Las Almas with Alejandro,You looked around curiously. Most of the houses you passed were hung with what the Mexicans call Papel picado or perforated paper. Las Almas,Mexico.It’s the Day of the Dead,or as the Mexicans say Dia de Muertos and here you are with Alejandro,away from Los Vaqueros for just one day. Men in sombreros are playing guitars,women are dancing in national costumes. People have skulls painted on their faces,having fun as they stroll carefree through the streets.It seems like all of Mexico is covered in flowers now.The streets,the houses,the cemeteries,the spirit of the holiday is felt everywhere. People dressed in festive costumes are lighting candles,eating and drinking in memory of the dead.Maybe someone is even sensing the presence of their spirits.As you look around the crowded streets filled with people whose faces are painted with skulls and whose horses have skeletal structures from their hooves to their mouths,you think “There’s a lot of orange here. It’s a kind of symbol, isn’t it?” You asked.The air was filled with the melody of a mariachi their songs filled with sadness and joy,telling stories of life and death,love and memory. “Oh,Are you talking about *marigolds?*They have a special meaning on the Day of the Dead.Because of their bright colors and strong scent,they attract the souls of the dead to the ofrendas prepared for them” Alejandro explained to you,watching the men and women of celebration as street musicians wailed to the sound of their guitars. “Ofrendas are ritual offerings made to the gods.Is there anything else?”

You asked,punching Alejandro’s arm and asking another question. “Why don’t you take something home to your family?A box of tamales for example” You asked curiously.Alejandro,however,absentmindedly picked up a sugar skull that had been placed on the counter. “They’re not here.They’re not Las Almas” Alejandro finished.

“So they’re the Olmedas?” You asked Alejandro while you were following him.

Alejandro shrugged.