Chicha,Coca,and who knows what else...

Dia de los Muertos may just be my favorite day/celebration in Bolivia because of the beauty of it and the rich tradition here. This year I was able to participate, as opposed to observing from afar last year.

Tuesday night, we went to pray at the casa de una de las hermanas whose mom had died recently. They make an alter for deceased - table with a photo of deceased, favorite foods, fruit and tantawawa (special bread only made for this time). Family, close friends, and neighbors come to pray and eat dinner together (they say the soul of deceased comes home to visit and share meal). A small group of kids from the area came to pray as well, they receive small tantawawa in exchange for their prayers.

Wednesday, Nov. 2, is the actual day of the dead begining with Mass and cemetary visit. The same altar is brought and placed over (or near) grave of deceased. (Family brings soul back to grave). The altar is made each year on this day for 3-4 years after death. Family and friends share food, chat about deceased, catch up, and relax while drinking homemade chica (which they spill a bit on ground before and after drinking in homage to Pacha Mama- Mother Earth), sharing refrescoes, chewing coca leaves, and smoking homemade rolled cigarettes. In the campo the alters have a large ladder, signifying their way to Heaven. Amber and I walked to the next town over to be with Hermana and her family and share in these traditions, yes with chicha and coca as well.
We were taught how to ¨chew¨the coca leaf and to pitch the stem part, as a few men from family watched and laughed at us. After a minute I had the strangest tingling sensation on my tongue and wanted to get rid of my leaves, Amber did a little better with it.

Small groups of children came by to pray for soul and received bread and dulce in exchange. For religious, they may offer to pay for prayers (they thought one of our padrinos was a visiting priest so he got 10bs, which he gave to the sisters, one lady offered to pay us and kept calling us sister, but we didn´t accept it). Amber and I prayed a rosary for Doña Martha and for our own few deceased relatives/friends. They gave us a papaya and each a big tantawawa. Mine was in shape of llama and hers, a person. It was so beautiful. When we got back to the hogar later that afternoon, there were bins of bread of all shapes, sizes, and ingredients, crazyy. We def. won´t be making bread for awhile!