Because of the night we spent in the dark in Mitla, we have a habit of asking taxi drivers what they would suggest we do to celebrate. Without hesitating, they unanimously suggest going to the Zocalo. They describe a comparsa and agree when we offer the word comparsa. They say there’s always some kind of program going on. They tell us about the tapetes de arena.
In the back seat, we smile because we have seen fifty comparsas, but we are looking for the real thing. What do the people really do? The answer is that this is a time to be with family, to celebrate the ones we have as wholeheartedly as we commemorate the ones we have lost. No tour can approximate this.
shewhodaresnothing 