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The Day of the Dead. A time of reverence, a time to remember loved ones who have passed. The festival is widely celebrated throughout Latin America, but the festivities in San Francisco rival most others. Not only does San Francisco have a large Hispanic population, but the city is also home to many worldly people and out-of-the-box thinkers. The result? A massive procession for El Dia de los Muert
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Rushing to the festivities after belly dance class with my dance partner, Alodiah Lunar, I didn’t have time to paint my face in the ghoulish white and black make-up that is common to wear during the festival. My friends, Mei and Coby, however, more than compensated for us, with their painted like skulls. Lots of
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Decorative floats, dance groups, and marching bands gave the procession a parade-like quality. One float was particularly interesting, as it was an antiq
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The altars themselves were beautiful, haunting, and mesmerizing, as if they emulated the souls of those we’ve loved and mourned. There was entire shrine dedicated to Michael Jackson, with a boom box playing his greatest hits. Another altar was a tangle of blood-red wires, holding up a white sculptured heart. Every tree in the park had pictures and notes stuck into its crevices. Flowers, feathers, candles, and mementos adorned the groun
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I had only gone to watch the festivities, but once I arrived at the altar, I found mysel
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The altars were a feast for my eyes, but the music was a feast for my ears. People were playing everything from Klezmer to Samba, and throngs of people were dancing and swaying to the music. The effect was thousands of people coming together to make-up a giant, pulsing crowd. Very much like the blood cells and energy that create a beating heart.