October/ Dia de las Muertos 2024 BABs
Anyone living in an area populated with persons of Mexican heritage is familiar with Dia de las Muertos, otherwise known as "Day of the Dead." It's a multi-day holiday that involves family and friends gathering to pay respects and celebrate those who came before us. It's often misinterpreted as morbid. Maybe this is because it follows Halloween and many mistakenly believe it's an extension of the spooky season. I was able to sit down and discuss this with Ms Diana Espinoza, a second generation immigrant. She reminded me that we should all celebrate loved ones who left this earth before us. Her bubbly, yet humble personality is why Big BABs Executive Council has been chosen her as this month's BABs.
Since moving to Arizona, I personally, have developed an affinity for the bright colored skulls and skeleton motifs that represent Dia de las Muertos. Like Diana they are vibrant and full of life. Both Halloween and Dia de las Muertos focus on death and the afterlife, yet Halloween has become more a celebration of horror with a macabre connotation, whereas Dia de las Muertos is a time to honor and remember loved ones. There are no bats, black cats or goblins. It's a time to celebrate life and honor those who came before us...the loved ones who touched our lives and therefore have become part of us.
"I am the person I am because of my mother, my grandmother and all the women in my family who came before me," Diana explains in a refreshingly frank and open manner. She's ridiculously easy to talk to.
We met a couple of years ago in a dance class and she always brightens my day each and every time I see her. I specifically remember last Christmas Eve. We both attended fellow BABs Paula Kokanovich's barre class that morning. After forcing myself to attend, even though I wanted to wallow in self-pity because I was spending Christmas home alone, running into Diana made my day. At the time, I didn't really want to discuss the sick dog at home who couldn't be hospitalized due to a recent terminal diagnosis. I volunteered to stay with the dog so my family could visit my sick father-in-law, who ended up passing the first week of February. Obviously, I'm grateful Brian and the kids were able to visit him one last time, but at the time I doubt I acted as gracious. If there was any martyrdom in me it quickly dissipated while talking with Diana. She was empathetic and loving. There were no 'I feel sorry for you vibes,' which at the time was exactly what I didn't need. She hugged me and told me a little about the recent loss of Bandit, her four legged friend. Her positivity and willingness to take the time to share a similar experience on one of the busiest family centered holidays of the year was quite humbling.
She comes by this genuine authenticity honestly. At her birthday party a couple of months ago, I was fortunate enough to meet Rosalia, Diana's mother. We spoke quite a while that night. She told me how proud she was of Diana. It was then I learned Diana had originally planned on going to medical school after graduating from Arizona State University with a Bachelor's of Science in Biology.
There I was a complete stranger trying to make conversation with someone who definitely considered English a second language and she couldn't have been more congenial and welcoming. She simply gushed over Diana. It was extremely heart warming.
To say Rosalia came from humble beginnings is quite an understatement. She is an immigrant. She wasn't planning on coming to America. After marrying at the age of 16, Rosalia and her husband, Diana's father, lived with his parents in Cuernavaca, near Mexico City. Eventually the government gave out some land parcels in a nearby neighborhood so her husband, Javier, and his dad, Pancho, were going to build the newlyweds a house. Javier decided he could make more money if he came to work in America, so he took off for Arizona. His trip took extremely longer than expected so Rosalia left her three kids with an aunt and went to Mesa to search for him. He was renting in a trailer park and there were rumors of sightings of him with other women. He managed to talk her into moving to Arizona so they could be together. At this point, Diana hadn't been born yet, but her mother gathered up her three older siblings and came across the border. They didn't have money for passports so they literally came across with a coyote in the late 70s.
Obviously, we've all been bombarded with reports in the media about the border crisis and it's rarely, if ever, told from anyone's perspective who actually experienced it so I just asked her if Rosalia and her siblings had ever discussed it. She took a deep breath and said, "only my sister, Irma, who was probably around 7 or 8 years old at the time...she said she remembers having to be quiet and then suddenly hearing loud noises and being told to duck. She was really upset she fell in the mud and ruined her one good dress."
There is not an ounce of anger or resentment in her voice as she discusses her families' difficult trek to a better life in America. "I know where I came from and I embrace my roots... it took their journey to get me here." It was only a few years later that Rosalia had Diana and eventually left Javier.
Although Diana never met Rosalia's mom, Rosa, when she talks about her there's a bright light in her eyes. She never got to meet her maternal grandmother because she died from Tuberculosis at the age of 24. Diana never met either of her abuelas, but has tremendous admiration for them both. She talks about the beautiful dresses Rosa embroidered as shown to the left and she says she's always been told her abuelita Maria was positive even during times of unbelievable hardships and adversity. Apparently, food was scarce at abuelita Maria's house, where Rosalia and Javier lived when first married. Diana speaks openly about the level of poverty her dad grew up in. My mom says she never knew hunger until she met her dad. Diana also tells me that times were hard even after her parents divorced. She tells me how they used to sell tamales to make rent. Now they have someone who makes their tamales. She laughs and says they're "bourgeois." She remembers how it wasn't until attending an American middle school that she learned of name brand clothes. "We had food on the table so we felt rich." She speaks with a level of gratitude that is rarely seen... or at least that I rarely see.
As a first generation college student, Diana was able to get her college paid for by FASFSA, the Free Application for Federal Student Aid. Diana says she was fortunate she had a friend in high school who helped her with the application. (Like I said, GRATITUDE.) Writing this brings a smile to my face as I remember the great pride in Rosalia's voice as she told me about Diana's Biology degree from Arizona State.
I didn't want to pry about what happened with medical school, but Diana brought it up. She said she was diagnosed with Multifocal choroiditis, which is a rare inflammatory disorder that causes multiple lesions in the eye's choroid and retinal pigment epithelium. Due to the blurry vision, floaters, light sensitivity, blind spots and eye discomfort, medical school would have been extremely difficult. There's not a trace of self-pity in her voice as she explains her life trajectory. She says that in college she began working for Wells Fargo. While there, a CVS manager that came in to make deposits told her they needed someone who spoke Spanish at the pharmacy, so after five years of working for Wells Fargo, Diana went to work at CVS for the next four years. She said the fast pace of retail pharmacy was difficult and there was barely time for bathroom breaks, so when she heard of an opening with Cigna Express Scripts she quickly applied and got the job. "Once I went to Express Scripts it was amazing... I had time to eat lunch and go to the bathroom!"
By the time Diana turned 40, she had survived a dysfunctional relationship, bought her own home and lived through a harrowing road rage incident. Although, she feels she has PTSD from the incident when an angry man stormed out of his car at a red light to yell at her, she is still bright and sunny.
She did see the police after the man accosted her, but was told no weapon was pointed at her and "maybe he was having a bad day." She says, "things happen for a reason and maybe down the road I can be an advocate for road rage survivors." As I write this she is texting me to urge me to come to dance class tonight. "Women are the most underrated resource in the world," she
says. Quite honestly, if I ever had doubts, hearing her story makes me believe it.
Today is the second day of Dia de los Muertos and many will celebrate it through Wednesday.
"It's an important time to reflect and honor the good and the bad, because I wouldn't be here without it. Honoring my roots and traditions, while yet learning how to forge into the new life I'm creating can be a challenge, but I have all these phenomenal women who came before me and are now integral pieces of the woman I am today."
Personally, I am only now learning about this spiritual holiday, but I only see it as uplifting. I love the idea of loved ones taking the time each year to sit, reflect and tell all the funny, embarrassing stories of those passed before us. How else will the stories be passed down to our children and grandchildren?
I recently learned of the passing of a friend in college via FaceBook. It made me sad and I had to reach out to the friends who shared the same experiences and stories I had of her. Everyone who has touched our lives in anyway has affected us. I want to be clear that if I take a dirt nap before all of you I expect at least a two-five day party where everyone shares photos and tells all the funny embarrassing stories about me. A life is to be celebrated. The Mexicans do it right. And I'm even comfortable with the bright colored skulls, because I can only hope that like Diana, when people think of me, it will only be in vibrant colors. That is what I consider badass.
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