Hakima

Right after I got back from Sucre, we had a wonderful Las Ñatitas, which is Bolivian version of the Day of the Dead. Everyone goes to the cemetery and sets up their skulls (people are very cryptic about where they get them, but many people, including silvia, constantly have them on shrines) and brings all this food and alcohol and coca and cigarettes. All day people come along and put flowers on your skull and hang out for awhile, then people who can pray in Aymara come along and pray to the skull and you reward them with bread and candy and coca. You are supposed to pray for protection from thieves (which is funny because you have to think these skulls are all robbed from somewhere) but it's turned into a holiday in which mostly marginal people participate, asking protection from the cops. So there are anarchists, contrabandistas, and beautiful drag queens dressed like cholas.

Silvia's skull is named Hakima, and everyone in the cemetery knows her. Even early on when Silvia went off to buy candles and just me and Beatriz were there, lots of people recognized her and came by to give her cigarettes or wreaths. She was beautifully adorned by the end of the day, and we kept the wreaths when we brought her home.

Then there's music and dancing--Silvia asked for songs for water, since we seem to be entering a pretty drastic drought right now, and also the standard "coca no es cocaina." There are cops all around who are supposed to prohibit alcohol, but they weren't really doing anything. They do begin trying to kick everyone out at 6, commanding us repeatedly through bullhorns to "desocupar el cementerio," which seemed like a great beginning for a zombie movie (is there one like that already?). But we took a long time. It was a really lovely holiday. It showed, as one of Silvia's friends said, "la militancia de compartir." And it was cool how everyone interacted with the skulls. I do kind of miss the pan de coca, but that's okay. It was such a beautiful holiday.