Day of the Dead 2014

Thursday, February 9, 2017

Day of the Dead is a misnomer, since there are actually two days, November 1 and November 2, during which time it is believed that the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest, and the spirits of the dead come back to earth to be with their loved ones.  Originating in Mexico, Day of the Dead is an amalgamation of two different religions, that of the indigenous people of Mexico and the Catholicism of the conquering Spaniards.  The Aztecs had the feast days of the Little Dead Ones and the Adult Dead.  These death-related festivities coincided with the Catholic All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day, and so were incorporated into the Church holidays in the same way the early Christians incorporated Roman and other pagan holidays into their own religious celebrations.

But in 2014 in San Miguel de Allende, Day of the Dead festivities took place over four days.  On October 30, Mujeres en Cambio, a non-profit organization on whose board I sit, hosted their annual Day of the Dead tea, this year called Death by Chocolate.  Tea sandwiches were offered, along with a selection of beverages, but the main event was the chocolate desserts.


The owner of Mente Cacao (Chocolate Mind, not Chocolate Mint), an all-things-chocolate shop in town, brought displays of cocoa pods and beans, offered us a chocolate drink made with Kahlua, and gave us a short course on chocolate, opening with the reminder that chocolate was first a drink of the Aztecs.  The chocolate bar, he said, has been around for only about 300 years.


I hope you can see the skull necklace I created from three of four bracelets I bought; I used the remaining one for my wrist.



















And in the photo, you can't really see the fabulous skull earrings that I bought in Guanajuato when I was there earlier in October for Cervantino.

On a magnificent afternoon, we sat in our hosts' huge garden to enjoy our treats and hear about the successes and needs of Mujeres en Cambio, which, through putting on monthly events such as this one, provides scholarships to girls in the campo (countryside) to attend school and university.  This year, we are supporting 165 girls.



















That evening, there was a Catrina parade as part of La Calaca Festival.  It started about four blocks from my house and worked its way up Calle Hidalgo toward the jardin.  By the sounds of the accompanying trumpets and tubas that were increasing in intensity, I knew they were near, so I dashed down to the corner just in time to catch them going by, and then followed them up to the jardin.






Mojigangas, huge papier-mâché puppets, are a part of every celebration in San Miguel.






 At first glance, I thought this was a guy with a very hairy chest and shoulders, but upon closer examination of the photo, I see that it is a little fake-fur shawl for warmth on a quite cold and blustery evening.
















A far more somber event awaited in the jardin:  a demonstration of anger over the disappearance of the 43 students from a teacher-training college in Ayotzinapa, in the state of Guerrero, in southwest Mexico, following a dispute with police.  You can see the photos of all of the young men who are missing. Candles were lit, speeches made, banners of support were hung on the fence around the parroquia (parish church).


This one says:  They took them alive; we want them back alive.
We are all Ayotzinapa.  San Miguel de Allende is with you.



 These signs say "Mexico wounded," and Mexico cries."

Quite chilled, both physically and spiritually, I made my way back home through throngs of people and apparitions.





This might be a time for a little history and explanation of Spanish terms used here that you might not know.

"The Catrina was originally an engraving by José Guadalupe Posada (1852-1913)...Before being called Catrina, the image of a skeleton wearing a showy hat was called "La Calavera Garbancera" and it was a representation of Mexicans with indigenous roots who were chickpea sellers and pretended to have European roots, and although they were poor, they wanted to show a life style that they did not have.  In the engraving the skeleton is nude because it is also a reference to the poverty that Mexicans were living in at that time.  


"Muralist Diego Rivera took the image of the Calavera Garbancera and in his mural entitled 'Dream of a dominical afternoon in the Alameda,' he painted the calavera and dressed it up with showy dresses and called her for the first time, 'Catrina.'  The image mocked the high class during the Porfiriato era (1876-1911)." (Atenciíon, Oct. 31, 2014)

"'Calaca' is a colloquial Spanish name for 'skeleton,' and is a figure of a skull or skeleton (usually human) commonly used for decoration during the Mexican Day of the Dead festival.  Calacas are frequently shown with marigold flowers...They are often shown wearing festive clothing, dancing, and playing musical instruments to indicate a happy afterlife.  This draws on the Mexican belief that no dead soul likes to be thought of sadly, and that death should be a joyous occasion.  This goes back to Aztec beliefs, one of the few traditions to remain after the Spanish conquest." (Wikipedia)  "The elaborate depiction of skeletons involved in everyday activities are never macabre but a reaffirmation of life and a triumphant snub against the inevitability of its passing." (Atención, Oct. 31, 2014)

2014 was the second year of the Calaca Festival in San Miguel, with many parties, loud music, and elements that some in the city feel are not fitting with the historic roots of the holiday.  There are tensions around this.

The Aztecs believed that the pungent scent of marigolds helped the spirits of the deceased to find their way back to earth, and marigolds rule the holiday.  It is the only time of year that they are around.  You will see them in many of the following photos.  I like the color and aroma of the flower and bought a bouquet for my apartment.


Carlos, my Spanish teacher, told me of a grave cultural error some gringos make, and that is giving a bouquet of marigolds to someone.  This is tantamount to wishing them dead.

There is the belief, also, that spirits come back as hummingbirds or Monarch butterflies, and darned if I didn't see three butterflies in one block in the center of the city on this day.

The next day, Halloween, on a holiday the Mexicans don't generally celebrate, it has become traditional in San Miguel for the gringos to give out candy to the Mexican children in costume in the jardin.  I decided to buy something other than candy for the kids and had fun shopping for little gifts that I thought they might enjoy:  balloons, barrettes, fake Mexican money, super balls, temporary tattoos.

Mid-day, I went to the biblioteca (library, the cultural and social center of the gringo community) on an errand and was enchanted by the decorations and altar there.  Altars are constructed all over town in memory of deceased loved ones or famous people, and all contain similar elements:  a glass of water to quench the souls' thirst after their long journey; salt to purify the soul and to scare away the bad spirits; candles to help guide the soul's way to its old home; incense for cleaning the house of bad spirits and to protect the souls; flowers as a sign of festivity and to make the loved ones happy; palm straw to be used as the base of the offering and as a cushion where the soul can rest; bread, an element added by Catholicism and which represents Jesus' body; sugar cane and bread.  The bread represents the heads of the enemies and must be stuck on the sugar canes.  Optional elements include a picture of the honored person and his or her favorite foods. (Atención, Oct. 31, 2014)











Of course at the library, we were sure to see a calaca reading a book.



In the early evening, I attended a pot-luck costume party.  Unfortunately, I forgot to get someone to take my photo in the extremely cool glow-in-the-dark skeleton jacket I bought in Guanajuato.  Its zipper goes all the way to the top of the head, bringing together a skull with only eyeholes.  This worked well, as I can't wear a mask because of my glasses.  The only problem was that in the cold night air, when I breathed, my glasses steamed up!




Our hostess, Susan, uncorking the first of many bottles of wine.


Julie as Penelope Pan, Peter Pan's bride.


Diego in a Mexican wrestling mask.



John, wearing a Venetian mask, into which he placed a straw so he could imbibe.






This was my favorite, a deviled egg!



We even had a piñata!

After eating and drinking, prizes were awarded for the best costumes.  This woman won first prize.






Then we were off to the jardin again en masse.  On the way there, we came across a street party being hosted by Vía Orgánica, an organic food market and restaurant.




As we neared the jardin, I peeled off, went home to get my trick-or-treat goodies for the kids, and put on my heavy coat over my skeleton jacket; it was that cold and windy.  When I started giving out the little gifts, I was almost instantly overwhelmed by what seemed like hundreds of children, all asking for their "calaverita" (little skeleton, sort of like saying "trick or treat"), but which were probably "only" dozens.  I gave out 65 little trinkets in probably 65 seconds.  I had my camera with me, but there was no time to ask anyone to take my picture.  The kids loved the non-sweet treats, as Carlos had promised me they would when I expressed doubt.

Then I just walked around with my camera, enjoying the people and the atmosphere.



A whole family decked out.


 Another mojiganga





On Sat., Nov. 1, I went up to the jardin to view the altars (or offerings) put together by local school children and civil organizations under the direction of the Education and Culture Dept. of the city.  

Nearby, I spotted this shop window with its marigold trim,


and upon closer view saw that it contained an altar





with Frida Kahlo overlooking the whole scene.


Even the pooches in town get into the act, this one with her Day of the Dead jacket.  Could she be any cuter?

























When these friendly and handsome flower salesmen saw me taking a photo of their wheelbarrow, they posed for me.











Some of the altars.





I was impressed with the perspective created at the back of this one on a vertical piece of cardboard.



This one was especially meaningful to me as I knew this man.  He was Tambula, the newspaper seller in the jardin.  His basso profundo voice reverberated there when he called out the names of the papers he carried.  You can see him with his bicycle basket filled with newspapers.








The main offering was a tribute to Tehua, "the best voice of Mexican folkloric music," who lived in SMA for 20 years before going to Mexico City to advance her career.  Tehua was an aunt to Claudia, the wife of my Spanish teacher.  Respected and beloved by old sanmiguelenses, Tehua succumbed to cancer in Aug. 2014.  Recordings of her singing played in a loop.






This amazingly large altar boasted a skeleton made from baked bread dough.


The images on either side, made entirely of natural items like beans, seeds, chiles, and flower petals, are pretty impressive, too.








 These elegant catrinas book-ended one of the displays.













These are nopales, cactus leaves, and tunas, cactus fruits.





As the afternoon sun's rays lengthened, preparations began for that night.



Skilled face-painters were doing a brisk business.



 

 





 All of the tourists like to have their photo taken with a mojiganga.




 Saturday night was the eagerly awaited annual art walk and altar viewing at Fábrica Aurora, a former textile mill now repurposed as artist studios and showrooms.

We were met at the door by this fellow,



and these friendly musicians.




I had on a lovely outfit of black and silver, but it was so (uncharacteristically) cold that I had to wear a shawl over it all.  But I was happy to have my reversible (silver/gold) sombrero de bruja to wear.











































































  


I so appreciated the simplicity of this.



 This was unique in that you saw yourself in the mirror as the deceased to whom the altar had been  built.  You can see me taking my own picture.












































My friends Susan and Julie from the costume party earlier in this blog.




























On Sun., Nov. 2, the real Day of the Dead, I  did what I have traditionally done for three years now.  I went with friends to brunch at Los Bisquets restaurant, and then we joined with thousands of others to go to the nearby cemetery, buying flowers along the way to place on the gringo graves, which are rather sad and plain compared to those on the Mexican side.  I decided not to take any photos this year, as I have taken so many over the years, and it just feels disrespectful to me.  So I will put some favorites of mine from other years to end the holiday and the blog.

This is one of the more elaborately decorated gravestones on the gringo side.

























And these are on the Mexican side, just in case you couldn't tell the difference.




















And my all-time favorite:



















"At the heart of the festival with all of its wonderful costumes, revelry, art and tales was a celebration of life, and the embracing of our very real mortality.  Young and old came together and perhaps grew a bit more courageous about how they live their lives, and the memories they are creating."  (Geoff Livingston, Atención, Nov. 7, 2014)


If you liked this blog, perhaps you would enjoy some of my others:
Elderhostel trip to Alaska (2005): http://alaskaelderhostel.wordpress.com
Elderhostel trip to Copper Canyon in Mexico (2008): http://coppercanyonelderhostel.wordpress.com
My first winter (2009) in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico: http://hidalgohussy.wordpress.com
My second winter (2010) in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico: http://secondyearinsanmiguel.wordpress.com
My third winter (2011) in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico: http://Iamaregularinsanmiguelnow.wordpress.com
My first autumn (2011) in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico: http://firstautumninsanmiguel.wordpress.com
My fourth winter in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico (2012):  http://cynthiainsanmiguel.wordpress.com
A trip to Chiapas, Mexico, with Vagabundos (2013):  http://mytriptochiapas.wordpress.com
A trip to Uruapan, Michoacán, Mexico, for the annual Palm Sunday artisans festival (2013): http://uruapanartisansfestival.wordpress.com
My trip to the state of Hidalgo, Mexico, with the Audubon Society (2013): http://audubontriptohidalgomexico.wordpress.com
My tip to Morocco (2014): http://reportfrommorocco2014.blogspot.com
Day of the Dead in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico (2014): http://dayofthedead2014.blogspot.com
My South African safari (2015): http://cynthiassouthafricansafari.blogspot.com
Tour of South Africa after the safari (2015): southafricapostsafari.blogspot.com


Day of the Dead in San Miguel de Allende , Mexico (2015): http://dayofthedeadSMA2015.blogspot.com











Day of the Dead is a misnomer, since there are actually two days, November 1 and November 2, during which time it is believed that the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest, and the spirits of the dead come back to earth to be with their loved ones.  Originating in Mexico, Day of the Dead is an amalgamation of two different religions, that of the indigenous people of Mexico and the Catholicism of the conquering Spaniards.  The Aztecs had the feast days of the Little Dead Ones and the Adult Dead.  These death-related festivities coincided with the Catholic All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day, and so were incorporated into the Church holidays in the same way the early Christians incorporated Roman and other pagan holidays into their own religious celebrations.

But in 2014 in San Miguel de Allende, Day of the Dead festivities took place over four days.  On October 30, Mujeres en Cambio, a non-profit organization on whose board I sit, hosted their annual Day of the Dead tea, this year called Death by Chocolate.  Tea sandwiches were offered, along with a selection of beverages, but the main event was the chocolate desserts.


The owner of Mente Cacao (Chocolate Mind, not Chocolate Mint), an all-things-chocolate shop in town, brought displays of cocoa pods and beans, offered us a chocolate drink made with Kahlua, and gave us a short course on chocolate, opening with the reminder that chocolate was first a drink of the Aztecs.  The chocolate bar, he said, has been around for only about 300 years.


I hope you can see the skull necklace I created from three of four bracelets I bought; I used the remaining one for my wrist.



















And in the photo, you can't really see the fabulous skull earrings that I bought in Guanajuato when I was there earlier in October for Cervantino.

On a magnificent afternoon, we sat in our hosts' huge garden to enjoy our treats and hear about the successes and needs of Mujeres en Cambio, which, through putting on monthly events such as this one, provides scholarships to girls in the campo (countryside) to attend school and university.  This year, we are supporting 165 girls.



















That evening, there was a Catrina parade as part of La Calaca Festival.  It started about four blocks from my house and worked its way up Calle Hidalgo toward the jardin.  By the sounds of the accompanying trumpets and tubas that were increasing in intensity, I knew they were near, so I dashed down to the corner just in time to catch them going by, and then followed them up to the jardin.






Mojigangas, huge papier-mâché puppets, are a part of every celebration in San Miguel.






 At first glance, I thought this was a guy with a very hairy chest and shoulders, but upon closer examination of the photo, I see that it is a little fake-fur shawl for warmth on a quite cold and blustery evening.
















A far more somber event awaited in the jardin:  a demonstration of anger over the disappearance of the 43 students from a teacher-training college in Ayotzinapa, in the state of Guerrero, in southwest Mexico, following a dispute with police.  You can see the photos of all of the young men who are missing. Candles were lit, speeches made, banners of support were hung on the fence around the parroquia (parish church).


This one says:  They took them alive; we want them back alive.
We are all Ayotzinapa.  San Miguel de Allende is with you.



 These signs say "Mexico wounded," and Mexico cries."

Quite chilled, both physically and spiritually, I made my way back home through throngs of people and apparitions.





This might be a time for a little history and explanation of Spanish terms used here that you might not know.

"The Catrina was originally an engraving by José Guadalupe Posada (1852-1913)...Before being called Catrina, the image of a skeleton wearing a showy hat was called "La Calavera Garbancera" and it was a representation of Mexicans with indigenous roots who were chickpea sellers and pretended to have European roots, and although they were poor, they wanted to show a life style that they did not have.  In the engraving the skeleton is nude because it is also a reference to the poverty that Mexicans were living in at that time.  


"Muralist Diego Rivera took the image of the Calavera Garbancera and in his mural entitled 'Dream of a dominical afternoon in the Alameda,' he painted the calavera and dressed it up with showy dresses and called her for the first time, 'Catrina.'  The image mocked the high class during the Porfiriato era (1876-1911)." (Atenciíon, Oct. 31, 2014)

"'Calaca' is a colloquial Spanish name for 'skeleton,' and is a figure of a skull or skeleton (usually human) commonly used for decoration during the Mexican Day of the Dead festival.  Calacas are frequently shown with marigold flowers...They are often shown wearing festive clothing, dancing, and playing musical instruments to indicate a happy afterlife.  This draws on the Mexican belief that no dead soul likes to be thought of sadly, and that death should be a joyous occasion.  This goes back to Aztec beliefs, one of the few traditions to remain after the Spanish conquest." (Wikipedia)  "The elaborate depiction of skeletons involved in everyday activities are never macabre but a reaffirmation of life and a triumphant snub against the inevitability of its passing." (Atención, Oct. 31, 2014)

2014 was the second year of the Calaca Festival in San Miguel, with many parties, loud music, and elements that some in the city feel are not fitting with the historic roots of the holiday.  There are tensions around this.

The Aztecs believed that the pungent scent of marigolds helped the spirits of the deceased to find their way back to earth, and marigolds rule the holiday.  It is the only time of year that they are around.  You will see them in many of the following photos.  I like the color and aroma of the flower and bought a bouquet for my apartment.


Carlos, my Spanish teacher, told me of a grave cultural error some gringos make, and that is giving a bouquet of marigolds to someone.  This is tantamount to wishing them dead.

There is the belief, also, that spirits come back as hummingbirds or Monarch butterflies, and darned if I didn't see three butterflies in one block in the center of the city on this day.

The next day, Halloween, on a holiday the Mexicans don't generally celebrate, it has become traditional in San Miguel for the gringos to give out candy to the Mexican children in costume in the jardin.  I decided to buy something other than candy for the kids and had fun shopping for little gifts that I thought they might enjoy:  balloons, barrettes, fake Mexican money, super balls, temporary tattoos.

Mid-day, I went to the biblioteca (library, the cultural and social center of the gringo community) on an errand and was enchanted by the decorations and altar there.  Altars are constructed all over town in memory of deceased loved ones or famous people, and all contain similar elements:  a glass of water to quench the souls' thirst after their long journey; salt to purify the soul and to scare away the bad spirits; candles to help guide the soul's way to its old home; incense for cleaning the house of bad spirits and to protect the souls; flowers as a sign of festivity and to make the loved ones happy; palm straw to be used as the base of the offering and as a cushion where the soul can rest; bread, an element added by Catholicism and which represents Jesus' body; sugar cane and bread.  The bread represents the heads of the enemies and must be stuck on the sugar canes.  Optional elements include a picture of the honored person and his or her favorite foods. (Atención, Oct. 31, 2014)











Of course at the library, we were sure to see a calaca reading a book.



In the early evening, I attended a pot-luck costume party.  Unfortunately, I forgot to get someone to take my photo in the extremely cool glow-in-the-dark skeleton jacket I bought in Guanajuato.  Its zipper goes all the way to the top of the head, bringing together a skull with only eyeholes.  This worked well, as I can't wear a mask because of my glasses.  The only problem was that in the cold night air, when I breathed, my glasses steamed up!




Our hostess, Susan, uncorking the first of many bottles of wine.


Julie as Penelope Pan, Peter Pan's bride.


Diego in a Mexican wrestling mask.



John, wearing a Venetian mask, into which he placed a straw so he could imbibe.






This was my favorite, a deviled egg!



We even had a piñata!

After eating and drinking, prizes were awarded for the best costumes.  This woman won first prize.






Then we were off to the jardin again en masse.  On the way there, we came across a street party being hosted by Vía Orgánica, an organic food market and restaurant.




As we neared the jardin, I peeled off, went home to get my trick-or-treat goodies for the kids, and put on my heavy coat over my skeleton jacket; it was that cold and windy.  When I started giving out the little gifts, I was almost instantly overwhelmed by what seemed like hundreds of children, all asking for their "calaverita" (little skeleton, sort of like saying "trick or treat"), but which were probably "only" dozens.  I gave out 65 little trinkets in probably 65 seconds.  I had my camera with me, but there was no time to ask anyone to take my picture.  The kids loved the non-sweet treats, as Carlos had promised me they would when I expressed doubt.

Then I just walked around with my camera, enjoying the people and the atmosphere.



A whole family decked out.


 Another mojiganga





On Sat., Nov. 1, I went up to the jardin to view the altars (or offerings) put together by local school children and civil organizations under the direction of the Education and Culture Dept. of the city.  

Nearby, I spotted this shop window with its marigold trim,


and upon closer view saw that it contained an altar





with Frida Kahlo overlooking the whole scene.


Even the pooches in town get into the act, this one with her Day of the Dead jacket.  Could she be any cuter?

























When these friendly and handsome flower salesmen saw me taking a photo of their wheelbarrow, they posed for me.











Some of the altars.





I was impressed with the perspective created at the back of this one on a vertical piece of cardboard.



This one was especially meaningful to me as I knew this man.  He was Tambula, the newspaper seller in the jardin.  His basso profundo voice reverberated there when he called out the names of the papers he carried.  You can see him with his bicycle basket filled with newspapers.








The main offering was a tribute to Tehua, "the best voice of Mexican folkloric music," who lived in SMA for 20 years before going to Mexico City to advance her career.  Tehua was an aunt to Claudia, the wife of my Spanish teacher.  Respected and beloved by old sanmiguelenses, Tehua succumbed to cancer in Aug. 2014.  Recordings of her singing played in a loop.






This amazingly large altar boasted a skeleton made from baked bread dough.


The images on either side, made entirely of natural items like beans, seeds, chiles, and flower petals, are pretty impressive, too.








 These elegant catrinas book-ended one of the displays.













These are nopales, cactus leaves, and tunas, cactus fruits.





As the afternoon sun's rays lengthened, preparations began for that night.



Skilled face-painters were doing a brisk business.



 

 





 All of the tourists like to have their photo taken with a mojiganga.




 Saturday night was the eagerly awaited annual art walk and altar viewing at Fábrica Aurora, a former textile mill now repurposed as artist studios and showrooms.

We were met at the door by this fellow,



and these friendly musicians.




I had on a lovely outfit of black and silver, but it was so (uncharacteristically) cold that I had to wear a shawl over it all.  But I was happy to have my reversible (silver/gold) sombrero de bruja to wear.











































































  


I so appreciated the simplicity of this.



 This was unique in that you saw yourself in the mirror as the deceased to whom the altar had been  built.  You can see me taking my own picture.












































My friends Susan and Julie from the costume party earlier in this blog.




























On Sun., Nov. 2, the real Day of the Dead, I  did what I have traditionally done for three years now.  I went with friends to brunch at Los Bisquets restaurant, and then we joined with thousands of others to go to the nearby cemetery, buying flowers along the way to place on the gringo graves, which are rather sad and plain compared to those on the Mexican side.  I decided not to take any photos this year, as I have taken so many over the years, and it just feels disrespectful to me.  So I will put some favorites of mine from other years to end the holiday and the blog.

This is one of the more elaborately decorated gravestones on the gringo side.

























And these are on the Mexican side, just in case you couldn't tell the difference.




















And my all-time favorite:



















"At the heart of the festival with all of its wonderful costumes, revelry, art and tales was a celebration of life, and the embracing of our very real mortality.  Young and old came together and perhaps grew a bit more courageous about how they live their lives, and the memories they are creating."  (Geoff Livingston, Atención, Nov. 7, 2014)


If you liked this blog, perhaps you would enjoy some of my others:
Elderhostel trip to Alaska (2005): http://alaskaelderhostel.wordpress.com
Elderhostel trip to Copper Canyon in Mexico (2008): http://coppercanyonelderhostel.wordpress.com
My first winter (2009) in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico: http://hidalgohussy.wordpress.com
My second winter (2010) in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico: http://secondyearinsanmiguel.wordpress.com
My third winter (2011) in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico: http://Iamaregularinsanmiguelnow.wordpress.com
My first autumn (2011) in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico: http://firstautumninsanmiguel.wordpress.com
My fourth winter in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico (2012):  http://cynthiainsanmiguel.wordpress.com
A trip to Chiapas, Mexico, with Vagabundos (2013):  http://mytriptochiapas.wordpress.com
A trip to Uruapan, Michoacán, Mexico, for the annual Palm Sunday artisans festival (2013): http://uruapanartisansfestival.wordpress.com
My trip to the state of Hidalgo, Mexico, with the Audubon Society (2013): http://audubontriptohidalgomexico.wordpress.com
My tip to Morocco (2014): http://reportfrommorocco2014.blogspot.com
Day of the Dead in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico (2014): http://dayofthedead2014.blogspot.com
My South African safari (2015): http://cynthiassouthafricansafari.blogspot.com
Tour of South Africa after the safari (2015): http://southafricapostsafari.blogspot.com
Day of the Dead in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico (2015): http://dayofthedeadSMA2015.blogspot.com

Dead of the Dead in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico (2016):  http://dayofthedeadsma.16.blogspot.com

A Trip to See a Tree (2017):  http://atriptoseeatree.blogspot.com

What a Storm! (2017):  http://whatastorm.blogspot.com