Olifina: Love And Trouble

36. Changes

I took the lead while we walked through the woods leading away from the house. As soon as we got into the village Mum took over. She took different routes that I did not know, saying they were shortcuts.

"This road would take us to the Avenida Tepozteco faster. There, the celebration should be more serious."

I followed beside her as she led the way. In no time we got into the main street that led up to the mountain. The aroma of bread mixed with some sort of spice filled the air. Mum took in a long sniff.

"What is that smell?"

"Pan de Muertos and copal, let's get some for ourselves."

She led the way to a shop packed with lots of celebration materials. We bought some bread and Copal. The woman selling had picture frames too. We bought one from her.

"So this is the bread Oliver was talking about - pan de Muertos," I said as we left the shop.

People were dressed in traditional gear except those like us who either didn't have or weren't the very festive type. Decorations were hung across the street. Some were brightly coloured papers carved into patterns of skulls, mostly.

"They're papel picado, the carved paper decorations," Mum said as she caught me staring at them.

"They're beautiful," I said to her, "let's buy some."

"Rufina, we need to be careful with the money we have, you know it's not much. Paper decorations aren't very necessary."

"Oliver gave me some extra money, but you have a point. We'd buy something else instead."

We went to the market and got some ingredients for the Mole alongside other things. After that, on our way back we stayed and listened to a woman who explained the Dia de Muertos festival to us. She was an old woman and that was her way of celebrating the festival. One of her sons tended to her while she received visitors at the front of her house. We gave her some of our bread but she politely refused. Her family ran a bakery and they had a lot of bread already. She took some copal instead, saying the smell reminded her of her late husband.

"Who are you guys honouring in this festival?"

"Her father," Mum replied. "My late husband."

"Oh... Sorry for your loss. Had it been long since he passed? If you don't mind me asking."

"It's not up to a week."

The old woman's expression changed, and the same with her son. "Take comfort in knowing that you would always be able to visit him every year during this period. That's how I cope with my husband's passing."

"Thank you, ma'am," Mum and I replied.

"Rápido, Alejandro, tráeles un poco de cempasuchil."

The boy climbed up the stairs leading to their balcony and got scissors from there which he used to cut some of the flowers for us.

We thanked the woman and continued on our way home. My legs had grown weak over the long walk.

"We should've bought a bicycle," I half cried. Mum only laughed and started narrating how she would walk a long distance to the Mazatlan market when she was in Sinaloa, pregnant with me.

"How did you do that?"

"Pregnancy can make you do a lot of things, it's much more than the food cravings."

We continued to discuss until we got to the house.

"Do we start cooking now or do you want to rest a bit?" she asked.