Lively tradition at Mission Dolores
Juan Cordona, 11, and his sister Sara, 8, fill out tags Saturday with the names of deceased family members to be placed above the altar during the Mission Dia de los Muertos Fiesta at the Mission Dolores Basilica in San Francisco. Though Day of the Dead has roots in indigenous religions, “It’s become part of our tradition,” said Maria Rosales-Uribe, a City College professor and director of religious education at Mission Dolores Basilica. Local chef Rosa Martinez, a native of Oaxaca, brought her family’s Day of the Dead traditions to the school attached to the Mission 20 years ago, and the colorful decorations, highlighted in last year’s hit film “Coco,” moved inside the church itself in 2012.
“The symbols are not necessarily Christian. But it’s muy religioso (sacred) in Oaxaca.” Rosa Martinez, a Oaxaca native who brought her family’s Day of the Dead traditions to San Francisco’s Mission Dolores
It started with a small altar in her son’s classroom 20 years ago. Rosa Martinez, a native of Oaxaca, wanted to bring her family’s Day of the Dead traditions into the Catholic school attached to the Mission Dolores Basilica. The display of paper flowers, sugar skulls and family photos grew every year, until it lined the school’s hallways. In 2012, it moved inside the church itself, an explosion of red, orange and yellow that joyfully erupts from the otherwise cool, dark basilica every November.
“It’s become part of our tradition,” said Maria Rosales-Uribe, a City College professor and director of religious education at Mission Dolores Basilica.
While some of the indigenous elements inherent to el Dia de los Muertos, which begins Oct. 31 and culminates Nov. 2 on All Souls’ Day, could be considered pagan to mainstream U.S. Catholics, the church’s leaders embraced the holiday long before the 2017 Pixar film “Coco” turned the tradition into a pop culture phenomenon, and far before you could buy skull-themed party decorations and papel
picado at Target. With Martinez’s help, the Mission Dolores Basilica’s largely Latino congregation works to respect the
holiday’s traditions and honor its indigenous roots.
“I was shy at first. The symbols are not necessarily Christian,” said Martinez, a soft-spoken chef with a Oaxacan food business named Origen. “But it’s muy religioso (sacred) in Oaxaca.”
Since the 1970s, there’s been a separate Day of the Dead procession on Nov. 2 that heads down 24th Street to a Festival of Altars in Garfield Park. That event has become so popular that some feel it has become co-opted by those who see it as an excuse to wear costumes and drink in the street, or to turn the event into a political statement.
“I personally think it’s appropriation,” said Rosales-Uribe. “It’s a big party.”
Inside Mission Dolores Basilica, the holiday is more quiet and personal, which suits Martinez, who still heads up the altar construction each year.
The construction finished on Saturday, the day of a family-oriented Dia de Los Muertos festival cohosted by the U.S. Park Service and old Mission San Francisco de Asis, which is next door to the basilica and the site of the city’s only remaining civilian cemetery. There were face painting and crafts, Mexican hot chocolate and Martinez’s tamales.
Martinez takes her own Day of the Dead traditions from her hometown in San Juan Cacahuatepec, Oaxaca, which has Aztec roots. On Oct. 30, her family builds a small path outside the home with candles and a cross decorated with marigolds, which have a strong scent and bright color, all meant to welcome the souls of the ancestors and help them find their way to the house.
On Oct. 31, a day for remembering babies and small children, they build a small arch over the altar inside. They prepare arroz con leche (rice pudding), hot chocolate and sweet tamales — nothing spicy. All of the food must by ready by noon, when they also light (incense) to attract the souls inside the house to eat, she said.
“The food has to come from the stove to the altar,” she said, before the living can eat it. “The souls eat the steam.”
Friends are invited to come over and pray. After the food has been on the altar for a few hours, they eat.
The next day they prepare another celebration for adults that will take place on Nov. 2, with a larger arch and spicy tamales, squash and hot chocolate. Again, the foods must go on the altar at noon, followed by prayer. On Nov. 3, they spend the day at the cemetery.
Inside the basilica, Martinez explains that the altar is set up on different levels to be like stairs leading to heaven. The basic elements are represented: air by papel picado or hanging flowers, which swing in the wind; earth by fruit, flowers and food; fire by candles; and water in small bowls.
This year, they added something Rosales-Uribe saw at the new “Coco” exhibit at Disney California Adventure Park: long strings with small signs that hang from the ceiling. Visitors can add the name of a loved one they wish to remember, and church members will affix it to one of the signs.
At the end of the Saturday festival, park rangers set up a fire in a parking lot behind the church. Visitors were invited to add marigolds to the flames while saying a few words to their lost parents, grandparents, siblings, spouses or pets.
Rosales-Uribe dedicated a flower to 5-year-old Caitlin Emma Arce, a former member of the congregation who died of cancer in September.
Martinez dedicated hers to her parents, her sister and her two brothers, who died in Oaxaca while she was here.
“You have this moment you can say what you never got to say to that person,” she said.