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Day of the Dead Festival, Oaxaca, Mexico

Day of the Dead Festival, Oaxaca, Mexico

Day of the Dead Festival that I’m fairly sure it was my mother’s mother, Moyra, who passed down her passion for travel to me. After being widowed in her sixties, she spent her late husband’s pension on a series of solo adventures, each one more daring than the last. I can still picture the photos: Moyra sailing down the Danube, standing proudly before the Pyramids, and posing in Tiananmen Square with her trademark panama hat.

She lived to the remarkable age of 103, but Mexico was one place she never reached. Nearly ten years after her passing, I was invited to Oaxaca for Día de los Muertos — the Day of the Dead Festival. I could almost hear her voice saying, “Darling, how marvelous.” The hosts encouraged us to bring a photograph of a deceased loved one to honor during the festivities. I found a picture of Moyra, tucked it safely in my bag, and off we went together.

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For those unfamiliar — though anyone who has seen Coco will know — Día de los Muertos is among Latin America’s most vibrant and meaningful traditions, with Oaxaca often considered the heart of the celebration. In late October and early November, the city’s cobblestones burst alive with parades, candlelit cemeteries glow through the night, and inside every home sits an ofrenda, or altar, lovingly decorated for departed relatives.

I had joined a group trip organized by Prior, a travel company known since 2018 for arranging experiences that balance authenticity with a carefully curated aesthetic — bolstered, no doubt, by its star-studded clientele. A new partnership with Capital One had launched itineraries centered on world festivals, and Oaxaca’s Day of the Dead was the first.

Our home base was Escondido Oaxaca, a 100-year-old mansion in the historic center transformed in 2019 into a boutique hotel by Grupo Habita, now synonymous with stylish, modern stays across Mexico. Passing through the heavy wooden doors, I stepped into a courtyard overflowing with marigolds — flowers believed to guide spirits back with their fragrance and bright orange glow. In my room, a bed floated above a polished concrete floor, and waiting on it was a small dish of dark chocolate skulls infused with marigold and mandarin, crafted by local chocolatier FlorCacao.

That evening, our group — mostly journalists and photographers — gathered for cocktails on the rooftop. With a mezcal margarita in hand, I chatted with David Prior, the company’s founder, who explained the vision behind the new series. The goal, he said, was to spotlight Day of the Dead Festivals when cultures express themselves most vividly. But designing the right itinerary wasn’t always simple — especially at an event like Día de los Muertos, where questions of cultural appropriation arise. “How do you keep it authentic but also enchanting?” he mused.

As if to answer, music drifted up from the courtyard. A troupe of dancers and musicians lured us down into the street, where we joined a jubilant procession. Thousands of revelers streamed by: fireworks cracked overhead, brass bands clashed joyfully, men on stilts towered above the crowd, women balanced enormous floral baskets, and faces painted as La Calavera Catrina gleamed in the lamplight. Pink and orange banners rippled against the dark sky. It was haunting and euphoric all at once — Día de los Muertos had truly begun.

The tradition dates back over 3,000 years to the Aztecs, who honored Mictecacihuatl, goddess of the underworld. When the Spanish colonized in the 16th century, the rituals fused with Catholic All Saints’ and All Souls’ Days. Today, the Day of the Dead Festival has its own unique identity — so distinct that UNESCO declared it an Intangible Cultural Heritage in 2008.

The next morning, we drove to Teotitlán del Valle, a Zapotec weaving community about 45 minutes away. Our guide, Edgar Mendoza Martínez, grew up here, and he welcomed us into his family’s courtyard, where roosters scratched beneath a pomegranate tree and sugarcane stalks leaned against the walls. His cousin, Tía Micaelina, led us into a room with an ofrenda layered with photos, incense smoke, and small offerings of bread and chocolate for los angelitos — children who had passed away. Edgar explained quietly that his aunt’s younger sister had been one of them.

I thought of Moyra’s photograph, still back at the hotel. Edgar had told me, “You’ll know when you find the right ofrenda that Day of the Dead Festival.” This wasn’t it.

Craft is central to Prior’s trips that Day of the Dead Festival, and Oaxaca’s artisanal traditions — woodcarving, textiles, pottery, basketry — are reason enough to visit. In Teotitlán, weaving has been the lifeblood of families for generations, though Edgar chose a different path by becoming a guide. “If I wanted to see the world, I had to step away,” he admitted.

Others in the town have found ways to preserve heritage while moving forward. We visited Casa Don Taurino, a family workshop run by Alejandro Mendoza and his wife, Verónica Bautista, who are reviving ancient natural dye practices. Bowls of dried pomegranate skins, marigolds, tree moss, indigo leaves, and cochineal insects (once as valuable as gold for their rich crimson dye) lined the floor. We crushed cochineal ourselves, streaking our palms with scarlet, then tie-dyed cloth in indigo vats, before seeing how local designers transform the pigments into modern fashion by Day of the Dead Festival.

A few streets away, we met legendary candlemaker Viviana Alávez at Casa Viviana. Known worldwide — even featured in Vogue — she and her daughter-in-law craft extravagant wax sculptures called velas. Some creations tower six feet tall, taking months to complete. Sitting at her feet, I attempted a wax rosette. My clumsy effort was no match for her masterpieces, but shopping for candles in her workshop felt like being in the presence of royalty.

Food is the other cornerstone of Prior’s journeys, and Oaxaca’s culinary scene is extraordinary. In Teotitlán, we ate tortillas fresh from the fire with tangy avocado salsa. At La Cocina de Humo, chef Thalía Barrios recreated the smoky dishes of the Sierra Sur by woodfire. But our highlight was cooking with chef Alejandro Ruiz.

He led us through Mercado Central de Abastos, selecting chickens, squash, herbs, and chiles — including the rare chilhuacle rojo for mole. Then at Portozuelo, his childhood farm, we cooked as a team. My group prepared mole, layering 28 ingredients into a sauce so rich and complex it was worth every hour of effort. We feasted with fresh pan de muertos for dessert, its sugar faces smiling up at us.

On our last night, excitement filled Oaxaca. From a terrace at Cobarde Oaxaca, we watched street performers in dazzling costumes framed by the illuminated Templo de Santo Domingo — and for a moment, by fireworks. After dinner, Edgar led us to Xochimilco cemetery, where families gathered by candlelight to honor loved ones with mezcal, marigold crowns, and songs like Amor Eterno.

As we left, Edgar spoke of returning home to Teotitlán to honor his own father, a man who had dreamed of being a tour guide. “I used to feel guilty,” he said. “But I realized guiding was the best way to honor him.”

On my last morning, I still hadn’t placed Moyra’s photo. Then, outside Casa Oaxaca, Ruiz’s hotel and restaurant, I found an altar filled with flowers, candles, fruit, and silver-framed portraits. I nestled her picture among them. She preferred wine to beer, but I knew she would have adored the warmth, the vibrancy, and the celebration of life. As I stepped into the sunlight, I could almost hear her say: What an adventure.

The centerpiece of the Oaxaca Day of the Dead Festival is without doubt the Magna Comparsa, the grandest parade that winds through the historic center. Be sure to arrive early so you don’t miss it. Last year, it took place on October 29 at 5 pm, though this year’s schedule hasn’t yet been revealed.

All week long, Oaxaca buzzes with activity—processions, lively street celebrations, bustling outdoor markets, monumental ofrendas on display, and culinary fairs. Scroll down for the full program of events.

The core dates of the holiday are:

  • October 31 — All Saints’ Eve: Families customarily visit cemeteries and graves. This night is believed to be when the spirits of children, known as angelitos, return to spend time with loved ones.
  • November 1 — All Saints’ Day: The day is filled with parades, gatherings in cemeteries, and festivities. Many hold that adult spirits make their return on this night.
  • November 2 — All Souls’ Day: A calmer day of remembrance, but once more people honor their ancestors at cemeteries.

The easiest way to arrive in Oaxaca is by flying into Oaxaca International Airport (OAX), located just outside the city center. It mainly connects to domestic cities such as Mexico City, Guadalajara, and Monterrey, with a handful of international flights from Los Angeles, Houston, and Dallas.

During Día de los Muertos, airfare to Oaxaca Day of the Dead Festival usually rises because of increased demand. Round-trip tickets from Los Angeles average around $300–400, while flights from Mexico City cost about $50 and take just an hour. For a cheaper option, travelers can ride a bus from Mexico City’s Terminal de Autobuses del Sur; the trip lasts between six and seven hours depending on traffic. Tickets should be booked ahead of time.

From the airport, the fastest way downtown is a pre-arranged transfer. Shared vans (colectivos) also wait outside, charging $3–5. Once in the city, pick up a printed program of events from the tourist booths—one of the main ones stands right in front of the Santo Domingo Church.

Before Oaxaca’s Day of the Dead festivities kick off, consider visiting the cempasúchil (marigold) fields blooming in the surrounding countryside. Planted in summer and blossoming only in October and November, these flowers are the very symbol of Día de Muertos. Known as flor de Muerto (“flower of the dead”), marigolds represent the fragility and splendor of life. Their vibrant color and fragrance are said to draw spirits back to the altars prepared for them.

We toured the Cultivos del Viejo farm in Zimatlán del Álvarez, a 45-minute drive from the city. Visitors are welcome to wander the fields with a small donation, as long as they are respectful. Here you can also admire the striking cresta de gallo (cockscomb), with its velvet-like red blossoms and edible leaves.

Throughout the historic center, you’ll encounter many comparsas, or neighborhood parades, where people in costume, dancers, and marching bands fill the streets. These processions symbolize the souls returning. They typically begin at a home, wait for the departed to join, and then move into the streets to unite with other parades.

The largest of these is the Magna Comparsa, the official parade that launches the Day of the Dead celebrations. Its exact date this year is still unannounced.

Another highlight is the Plaza de la Danza, a central square where elaborate tapetes de arena (sand carpets) are showcased. At the festival’s close, judges choose the winning carpet. The Magna Comparsa concludes here, making it one of the most important gathering points of the holiday.

Each neighborhood in Oaxaca also organizes its own program of events. In the artsy quarter of Jalatlaco, the streets are decorated with murals inspired by Día de Muertos, colorful papel picado strung overhead, and parades winding through the lanes. Most of Jalatlaco’s activities happen around the Templo de San Matías.

If you’re taking a day trip to Hierve el Agua, make a stop in the town of Mitla. Best known for its archaeological site with its intricate geometric stone designs, Mitla is also a meaningful place during the season. Its name comes from the Nahuatl word Mictlán, meaning “place of the dead,” believed to be where souls rest after life.

The villages of Oaxaca’s Central Valleys have their own rich traditions, particularly the creation of sand tapestries. These colorful artworks form symbolic pathways for spirits to return from the cemetery to their homes. Depending on local customs, they may be made nine days, forty days, or one year after someone’s passing.

One of the most famous displays is in Zaachila, along Calle Coquiza, which runs from the cemetery to the church. The entire street is transformed into a long sand tapestry, a breathtaking sight. Since these artworks are only completed just before the holiday, the best time to visit is on November 1 or 2.

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