What nobody tells you: the real history of Day of the Dead
The international narrative often presents Day of the Dead as an unaltered pre-Hispanic ritual more than three thousand years old. The history is more interesting than that.
Posada and Rivera: the origins of an icon
The visual imagery we associate with Day of the Dead was born in two distinct moments. The first: graphic artist and political satirist José Guadalupe Posada (1852–1913) created, around 1910–1913, a caricature titled La Calavera Garbancera — a female skull wearing a French-style feathered hat. It was a fierce critique of the Porfirian elite: people of indigenous or mestizo origin who rejected their roots and dressed as Europeans with face powder. Posada's message: under the imported hat, we are all the same. The 1913 image had no body — only the skull.
La Calavera Garbancera (ca. 1910–1913), illustration by José Guadalupe Posada. A satirical engraving targeting the Porfirian elite who denied their indigenous and mestizo roots. Public domain." title="La Calavera Garbancera (ca. 1910–1913), illustration by José Guadalupe Posada. A satirical engraving targeting the Porfirian elite who denied their indigenous and mestizo roots. Public domain." class="w-full rounded-2xl object-cover shadow-xl" loading="lazy" width="900" height="500" style="box-shadow:0 8px 40px rgba(0,0,0,0.45)" />
The second moment: in 1947, Diego Rivera painted the mural Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in the Alameda Park at Mexico City's Hotel del Prado. Rivera took Posada's skull, gave it a full body with a Belle Époque dress, and named it "La Catrina" — from the Mexican term catrin/catrina, describing someone who dresses with pretensions of elegance. That is where the global icon was born.
La Catrina in the mural Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in the Alameda Park (1947), Diego Rivera. Rivera gave Posada's skull a full body and named it "La Catrina." Image not property of the author; used for illustrative purposes." title="Detail of La Catrina in the mural Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in the Alameda Park (1947), Diego Rivera. Rivera gave Posada's skull a full body and named it "La Catrina." Image not property of the author; used for illustrative purposes." class="w-full rounded-2xl object-cover shadow-xl" loading="lazy" width="900" height="500" style="box-shadow:0 8px 40px rgba(0,0,0,0.45)" />
The Cárdenas era and the invention of a pre-Hispanic identity
Researcher Elsa Malvido, director of INAH's Workshop on Studies of Death for over two decades, demonstrated in La festividad indígena dedicada a los muertos en México (CONACULTA, 2006) that the contemporary structure of the celebration was shaped by the post-revolutionary Mexican state. During Lázaro Cárdenas's presidency (1934–1940), the nationalist government sought to disengage popular festivities from Church control, promoting a secular national identity rooted in indigenous and mestizo heritage.
"The celebrations of All Saints and All Souls have been holy days of obligation in the Catholic world, but Mexican intellectuals turned them Aztec and pre-Hispanic, and the anthropologists believed them."
— Elsa Malvido, INAH
This doesn't make the tradition false or not worth celebrating. It means it's alive: it was built, adapted, and keeps changing.
Bond, Pixar, and the global era
In 2015, the James Bond film Spectre (dir. Sam Mendes) opened with a massive Day of the Dead parade in Mexico City's Zócalo that had never existed before. The following year, Mexico City organized its first real Day of the Dead parade, explicitly modeled on the film's fictional one. A "tradition" invented in under a year now draws thousands of tourists seeking "authentic" experience.
Spectre (EON Productions / MGM, 2015). The fictional parade directly inspired Mexico City's first real Day of the Dead parade in 2016. Image not property of the author; used for illustrative purposes." title="Scene from the Day of the Dead parade in Spectre (EON Productions / MGM, 2015). The fictional parade directly inspired Mexico City's first real Day of the Dead parade in 2016. Image not property of the author; used for illustrative purposes." class="w-full rounded-2xl object-cover shadow-xl" loading="lazy" width="900" height="500" style="box-shadow:0 8px 40px rgba(0,0,0,0.45)" />
In 2013, Disney tried to trademark "Día de los Muertos" with the USPTO. The backlash was immediate: over 21,000 people signed a petition, cartoonist Lalo Alcaraz went viral, and Disney quietly withdrew the application. When Coco was released in 2017, Pixar had researched Oaxaca — where the architecture of Monte Albán inspired the lower levels of the Land of the Dead — Michoacán, Guanajuato, and San Andrés Mixquic.
Coco (Pixar/Disney, 2017). Pixar's research in Oaxaca, Michoacán, and Guanajuato shaped the film; Monte Albán's architecture inspired the lower levels of the Land of the Dead. Image property of Disney/Pixar; used for illustrative purposes." title="Scene from Coco (Pixar/Disney, 2017). Pixar's research in Oaxaca, Michoacán, and Guanajuato shaped the film; Monte Albán's architecture inspired the lower levels of the Land of the Dead. Image property of Disney/Pixar; used for illustrative purposes." class="w-full rounded-2xl object-cover shadow-xl" loading="lazy" width="900" height="500" style="box-shadow:0 8px 40px rgba(0,0,0,0.45)" />
Where to stay: the logic of each neighborhood
Your choice of neighborhood determines your experience. There's no perfect zone — only the right zone for what you want.
| Zone | Profile | Best for | | --- | --- | --- | | Historic Center | Walking distance to comparsas, altars, and cemeteries. High noise, extreme congestion on key nights. | Anyone who wants to be in the thick of it. | | Jalatlaco | Walkable arts neighborhood, Magic Town. Vibrant but more manageable. | Photographers, solo travelers. | | Xochimilco | Artisan heritage, peaceful, traditional. Close to Center with quiet nights. | Families, early risers. | | Reforma | 30-min walk north of the Center. Modern hotels, low noise. | Business travelers, families with young children. | Book 3-4 months ahead. Day of the Dead is the most in-demand week of the year. If you've arrived without a room: check local WhatsApp and Facebook groups, or consider staying in the valleys (Zaachila, Tlacolula, Etla) and coming into the city by taxi.
Cemetery network: hours and what to expect

Oaxaca's cemeteries during Day of the Dead are not spaces of silence: they are spaces of mystical celebration, live music, and community reunion.
| Cemetery | Profile | Hours (reference) | Notes | | --- | --- | --- | --- | | Panteón General San Miguel | Historic Center. Monumental architecture, high cultural density. | 07:00–22:00 (Nov 1-2, 2024 data) | Restored in 2024. Nov 1 at 6 PM: Fauré Requiem concert. | | Panteón de Xochimilco | Xochimilco neighborhood. Community-scale, traditional. | 07:00–18:00 approx. | Best for quiet morning visits. Confirm hours annually. | | Panteón de San Felipe del Agua | North of the city. Intimate, neighborhood celebration. | Open from afternoon of Oct 31 | Music, gatherings, possible mezcal invitation. Bring maximum respect. | | Panteón Jardín | Urban buffer zone. Modern, green spaces. | To confirm | Less touristy. Good for observing local offering rituals without crowds. | | Panteón de Santa Cruz Xoxocotlán | Municipality of Xoxocotlán. Most visited by tourists. | 07:00–late, night of Nov 1 | Most commercialized. Legitimate but different from neighborhood cemeteries. |
Exact hours change every year. Verify at oaxaca.gob.mx or call the Cemetery Unit: Carretera Antigua a Monte Albán No. 105, La Fundición.
Reference data; verify each year.
City comparsas and Etla Valley muerteadas: two different worlds
Comparsas in the historic center
Comparsas are festive nocturnal processions rooted in colonial calendas: nighttime caravans of costumed revelers, brass band music, and street humor through the Historic Center on the nights of October 31 and November 1.
The Comparsa de Cinco Señores (Barrio del Polvo) is the oldest in the city. Also notable: Jalatlaco, Trinidad de las Huertas, Santa Lucía del Camino, and Xochimilco. Comparsas are free and open access. Mojigangas — giant papier-mâché figures — are among the most photogenic elements.
Muerteadas of the Etla Valley
The Muerteada is a living tradition of community resistance and social satire with over 80 years of organized history. Celebrated November 1-2 in San Agustín Etla (the founding community), Villa de Etla, San Pablo Etla, Soledad Etla, Nazareno Etla, and others.
The muerteada is a structured satirical theatrical representation called La Relación, parodying authority figures: the doctor, the priest, the judge, the devil, and death. Devil costumes are covered in thousands of hand-sewn metal bells, weigh 30-50 kg, and represent a personal investment of 8,000 to 30,000 MXN or more. The San Agustín Etla procession begins around 10 PM on November 1 and lasts through the night.
Restrictions in San Agustín Etla (since 2022)
- ▸1,000 MXN fee for outsiders attending in costume or with face makeup
- ▸1,000 MXN for professional photographers and videographers (prior accreditation required)
- ▸Community access closes at 7 PM on November 1
- ▸Alcohol sales suspended from 11 PM
Villa de Etla, Soledad Etla, and San Pablo Etla remain more open — though this may change each year.
Critical logistics for Etla
- ▸Book a taxi weeks in advance. The road to Etla collapses on November 1. No rideshare apps work at 3 AM.
- ▸Set a physical meeting point. Cell towers saturate. Internet and calls fail.
- ▸Watch your consumption. Mezcal flows freely. Staying in well-traveled areas is basic safety.
Ethical photography and the Catrina dilemma
What La Catrina actually is
Posada drew the skull in 1913 as social satire targeting an elite that denied its own roots. Rivera gave it a body and the name "La Catrina" in 1947. Its global adoption as a Day of the Dead symbol is a 20th-century phenomenon, not an ancient ancestral continuity. Knowing this doesn't make the celebration less valid — it makes it more interesting.
Face paint — yes or no?
It's not the end of the world. It's also not universal.
At the Historic Center, urban comparsas, artistic events, and the Panteón de Xoxocotlán, Catrina face paint is completely in tone: these are festive, open spaces where locals, tourists, and catrinas coexist freely.
The further you get from the city, the more the landscape shifts — not because it's something bad, but because in many communities it simply isn't a custom. Face paint carries a more festive, performative connotation; in the more intimate valley cemeteries — San Felipe del Agua, Santa María Atzompa, Teotitlán del Valle — families, especially older adults, tend to hold vigil from a place of quiet prayer and offering, not costume. You won't be asked to leave, but you may get a few puzzled looks — without ill intent, just because it's not something that's done there.
Younger generations — teenagers, young adults — are adopting it more and more, as you can clearly see in the city center. Things change. Being informed helps you read the context.

Cemetery protocols
- ▸Ask permission before photographing a family at vigil. One quiet question changes everything.
- ▸No flash. Candlelight is the atmosphere; flash destroys it.
- ▸Don't photograph children for social media without parental consent.
- ▸Bring an offering: cempasúchil flowers, pan de muerto, or candles. It's a good idea to bring something. If you find a tomb that looks forgotten — look for Catholic symbols like crosses or niches — leaving flowers, a candle, or a splash of mezcal is a genuine and well-received gesture. On the Day of the Dead tours I used to lead, I always encouraged people to tend to a forgotten grave: mezcal, flowers, a candle. It was consistently one of the most powerful moments of the tour.

- ▸Dark clothing is appropriate for nighttime cemetery visits. There's no hard rule, but it's a respectful gesture that works well.
Day of the Dead gastronomy: what goes on the altar

Oaxacan Todos Santos cuisine is not a commercial menu — it's the physical representation of communion between the living and the dead. Mole Negro: The highest-ranking ritual dish. ~34 ingredients. Partially charred chiles (chilhuacle negro, mulato, pasilla, chipotle), metate-ground chocolate, plantain, clove, cinnamon, toasted avocado leaves. The process can take days. The dish most faithfully linking the dining table to the altar. Pan de Yema with Chocolate de Agua: Egg-rich Oaxacan brioche decorated with hand-painted caritas (little faces) evoking the departed. Dipped in cinnamon-spiced drinking chocolate. Unlike Mexico City's anise-sugared pan de muerto: denser, intensely yellow, deeply eggy. Tamales de Mole in Banana Leaf: Thin corn masa, shredded meat in mole negro, wrapped in roasted banana leaf, steamed. Dulces de Calabaza en Tacha: Castilla squash slow-cooked in clay pot with piloncillo, cinnamon, and spices. Intense yellow, unrefined sweetness. Tejate: The ancestral drink of cacao, corn, and mamey. Pre-Columbian. No sugar, no dairy. Find it cold at the Mercado 20 de Noviembre. Mezcal: In community cemeteries, mezcal is shared at the grave as an act of communion. Fireworks and toasts on November 2 mark the departure of souls. Not decoration — secular liturgy.
Markets and workshops
- ▸Tlacolula (Sunday market): Pan de yema, metate chocolates, tejate. Go early.
- ▸Mercado 20 de Noviembre and Central de Abastos: Cempasúchil, mill-ground mole negro, tamales.
- ▸Zaachila (Thursday before Muertos): Sand tapestries, community market. Very few tourists.
Beyond the city: every town is its own universe

Colectivos (minibuses) from central Oaxaca are the most economical local option. For nights in the valleys, negotiate a round-trip taxi in advance.
Logistics: cash, tips, and the local economy
Always carry cash in small bills. Markets, street vendors, colectivos, and local food stalls don't have card readers.
| Service | Typical range | Note | | --- | --- | --- | | Restaurants | 5-10%; 15% for exceptional service | Check if "suggested charge" is already included | | Accommodation (housekeeping) | 5-10% of nightly rate | Hand directly to cleaning staff when checking out | | Gas stations | $5-15 MXN | For fill-up, tire check, or windshield cleaning | | Parking attendants | $5-15 MXN | To street parking assistants | | Tour guides | Based on duration and quality | Guide work during Day of the Dead is extremely demanding | Transportation: No Uber or Lyft in Oaxaca. Taxis are negotiated — always ask the price before getting in. A ride to the cemetery from the Center: approximately 150-220 MXN. For Etla Valley: private taxi booked weeks in advance.
Rates are reference data; verify each year.
Conscious tourism: what's at stake
This isn't written to lecture anyone. It's written because the facts are public and an informed traveler makes better decisions.
Day of the Dead generates an estimated 289 million pesos in economic impact in the Central Valleys, with hotel occupancy exceeding 78% and more than 89,000 visitors. For anyone selling flowers, painting Catrinas, running tours, working in restaurants, or renting a room: this is one of the best weeks of the year, and it has every right to be.
At the same time, on October 27, 2024 — the eve of the festivities — 6 people were violently detained at an anti-gentrification march in Oaxaca. Among them, activist Filx Aldaz, an ajuuk speaker, who argues that gentrification in Oaxaca "is not just tourism, it is dispossession" — including the linguistic displacement of indigenous languages.
Neighborhoods like Jalatlaco and the Historic Center have partially transformed into high-end tourist consumption enclaves. Apartments in tourist zones reach 4.5 million pesos. Original residents are displaced to the periphery. The water crisis intensifies during peak season: peripheral neighborhoods face severe shortages while downtown hotels operate with continuous supply. Journalist Paola Flores puts it plainly: "There are not enough resources or infrastructure to receive so many people."
How to visit in a way that adds value
- ▸Eat at popular markets (Mercado 20 de Noviembre, Central de Abastos, community markets). Money reaches families directly.
- ▸Hire through local agencies or community cooperatives, not external intermediaries or global platforms.
- ▸Buy crafts directly from artisan families, not souvenir shops that intermediate without adding value for the producer.
- ▸Conserve water. Every liter you don't waste is one less liter that costs the neighborhood next door.
- ▸Pack out what you bring in. Carrying your waste at night walks and cemetery visits is not altruistic — it's the basic obligation of a guest.
Not Disney
I'll be direct: some visitors arrive in Oaxaca during these dates and complain it wasn't what they expected. The community cemetery was too quiet. There weren't enough painted catrinas. It wasn't exciting enough.
Day of the Dead in Oaxaca is not a theme park or a production staged for tourism. It has very different dimensions: moments of overflowing street celebration and moments of silent, personal vigil. Both are authentic. Context matters: don't look for spectacle where there is stillness.
If you arrive with a script of what it "should" look like — one built on a movie or an Instagram reel — you'll probably be disappointed. If you arrive open, you'll likely remember the experience for the rest of your life.
Can I build an altar if I'm not Mexican, or if I don't share that religion?
I get asked this often. My honest answer: I leave it to your judgment, but here's what I know from my own experience.
I'm not religious. My father was. Every year I build his altar: pizza, Coca-Cola, beer and mezcal — because that's what he liked. Not out of tradition, but as an act of love, to honor his memory in the way he would have wanted. I also go with my family to the Atzompa cemetery to eat and spend time together.
For my grandfather, we set out tamales, mezcal, and calabaza candy. Things adapt — whether for better or worse, probably both — but they adapt.
In that sense: if this gesture could help you honor someone you've lost, or simply participate in something meaningful, then it's for you. The question worth asking isn't whether you're Mexican or belong to a certain religion — it's whether the act comes from an honest place.
Two dimensions that coexist
Day of the Dead in Oaxaca exists in two parallel planes: the religious and intimate of homes and domestic altars — prayer, reconciliation, liturgical vigil to guide the souls — and the modern and secular of celebration — joy, music, street dancing, death reframed as a "see you later." Both visions are valid and coexist in the same city, sometimes on the same street.
An informed visitor knows how to read the difference. If you're at the Panteón General listening to Fauré's Requiem and viewing the altars, you're in the cultural plane. If you're with a family keeping vigil for a father who died six months ago, you're in entirely different territory.


