As a child in Mexico City, I remember the Dia de Reyes. It was the day the three kinds visited baby Jesus. If I am not mistaken, they were Melchor, Gaspar and Baltazar. The traveled on a donkey, a camel and an elephant. One was black, one white and one oriental. It was the day when the traditional trappings of Christmas were taken down. People would eat a rosca de reyes, whoever got the baby would through a tamal party for the feast of the Candelaria. Santa Claus, an entity that had very little to do with Latin American traditions, began taking over in big urban areas. I did have to luck to spend sometime in the Yucatan Peninsula in in the 2010-2011 holiday season. People were quite in to the day, it was really wonderful to see how a tradition had been taken in and made local. I know this little blurb is not to insightful or controversial, it is just a flash of a part of the memories of where I grew up. As I have aged, small things become quite special. For the most part, life is not as exiting as we would like to believe it is. Special days, rituals and traditions, costumes, they make us who we are. This time of year I keep thinking of how nice it would be to have atole champurrado, tamales dulces, and on a day like today have a slice of rosca. I never got the baby in the pastry so I never learned to make tamales. Have a great morning all.
Posted on: Tue, 06 Jan 2015 13:27:26 +0000
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