New Orleans: Dia de los Muertos

 

Ominous chanting reverberates through the damp chill. A procession of over eight hundred women and men with paper white faces and black Joker smiles march steadily to the mournful sounds of a brass band.

It's New Orleans' Dia de los Muertos headed by voudou priestess Sallie Ann Glassman. Other than the vibrant Frida Kahlo-esque flower headbands and skull expressions, it bears no resemblance to the traditional Mexican festival. 

As dusk approaches, participants gather at the train tracks surrounded by neglected warehouses in the Bywater neighborhood. When the sun sets, torches of white sage are lit and the procession begins. Over the course of several hours, it makes its way past dozens of rickety, pastel-colored homes and into a muddy, grass field. Without hesitation, the women in long early 20th century-inspired lace gowns and men in tired top hats and blazers follow the leaders. Suddenly, we stop.

A large circle organically comes to life as the seduction of what's next fuels the crowd's attention. A group of five brings a small tipi of spiritual objects into the center. Dead silence honors the ceremony. It goes up into flames and a choir begins to chant behind the blaze.

The singing gets faster, the energy builds. We begin to move. We begin to dance. The gravity transforms until we're howling madness like wolves. The funeral is over and the celebration of death has begun. 

We march back onto the street walking further and further into the night. The tall flags at the front of the crowd halt at a steep mud hill. Once again, we obediently follow. We walk onto a path lining a deserted stretch of the Mississippi river continuing down, down, down until we reach what feels like the end of the world. A large industrial ship chugs by in slow motion creating powerful waves that crash up onto the river walls. A canal in the distance crossing over the water twinkles in urban glory. The line filters into a circle and a large paper skull is brought to the middle. The crowd hauntingly hums. "On and on and on..." as sparks at the base of the skull explode into flames.


             

Finally, a makeshift boat with a glowing light is sent out over the waves. The evening becomes a memory to be remembered by few and unknown by many.