A Mexican Graveyard

Last weekend I was invited to go with Paco and his dad (Paco Senior) the small village of Coyotitan an hour north of Mazatlan to place candles at the grave of Senior's parents on the anniversary of his mother's death. Coyotitan is the "Rancho" where Paco and his eleven brothers and sisters were reared.


As an adopted member of the family I am invited into the lives of my Mexican friend's to experience their culture in ways I never could as a tourist or resident. This visit was a prime example.

Mexican graveyards are, if nothing else, interesting. Above many of the graves the families of the departed erect small chapels or shrines in which they place photos of the deceased and religious icons, flowers and on occasion lit candles. The cemetery at Coyotitan was also occupied by a small herd of Mexican cattle grazing on what little green vegetation was there - which wasn't much. No one seemed to consider it a sacrilege, or was bothered that the owner of the cattle was enjoying some free range.


Paco told me a funny story on the way back to Mazatlan. A few years ago one of Senior's aunts died while visiting Mazatlan and it would cost the family a large amount of money to have her body transported back to Coytitan. Paco volunteered, placing his aunt's body in the passenger's seat of his pickup wearing a pair of sunglasses to hide the death in her eyes. She drew a curious look from the attendant when he stopped for gas (they still fill your tank for you in Mexico) but Paco explained that she was simply sleeping... soundly I'd say.