Día de los Muertos
"In the mountains of Chiapas, death was a part of daily life.
It was as common as rain or sunshine.
People here coexist with death, death of their own, especially the little ones.
Paradoxically, death begins to shed its tragic cloak,
Death becomes a daily fact.
It loses its sacredness.
You see it as someone you sit down with at the table, like an old acquaintance.
You don't lose your fear of death, but you become familiar with it.
It becomes your equal.
Death, which is so close, so near, so possible, is less terrifying for us than for others.
So, going out and fighting and perhaps meeting death is not as terrible as it seems. For us, at least.
In fact, what surprises and amazes us is life itself.
The hope of a better life.
Going out to fight and to die finding out you're not dead, but alive.
And, unintentionally, you realize you are walking on the edge of the border between death and life.
You're walking on the edge of the border between them."
-Subcomandante Marcos
It was as common as rain or sunshine.
People here coexist with death, death of their own, especially the little ones.
Paradoxically, death begins to shed its tragic cloak,
Death becomes a daily fact.
It loses its sacredness.
You see it as someone you sit down with at the table, like an old acquaintance.
You don't lose your fear of death, but you become familiar with it.
It becomes your equal.
Death, which is so close, so near, so possible, is less terrifying for us than for others.
So, going out and fighting and perhaps meeting death is not as terrible as it seems. For us, at least.
In fact, what surprises and amazes us is life itself.
The hope of a better life.
Going out to fight and to die finding out you're not dead, but alive.
And, unintentionally, you realize you are walking on the edge of the border between death and life.
You're walking on the edge of the border between them."
-Subcomandante Marcos