Day of the Dead

Leading up to the Day of the Dead sugar skulls and plastic wreaths abound in every town. Our little group of cyclists slowly plod their way up to the town of Angahuan, Michoacan at the edge of the lava flow of the volcano of Paricutin. Purepecha announcements echo across town like some kind of continuous chant, people scurry about town buying flowers and wreaths in preparation for the celebration of the Day of the Dead. The atmosphere in the cemetery is not somber. The whole community turns out to tidy the graves and make their offerings spending the evening and day with their dearly departed. Kids run and play. Prayers are made. Food is shared. Plates of tamales are extended to us. The feeling is overwhelmingly warm and welcoming.

Blue Corn Heaven

Many, many generations ago somewhere in Latin America one of the greatest miracles of all agricultural time took place when some attentive soul decided to favour a grass with a few hard to use kernals. Over time this grass gained more and more kernals gradually transforming into an ear of corn and, eventually transforming into the mainstay of a host of Latin American diets.


In Mexico, this staple takes many forms, but the most universal is the tortilla. In Angahuan, this pancakesque miracle is often derived from blue corn which is an increasingly rare treat. One of the most beautiful places to sit and enjoy tasty treats shaped of ground blue corn dough is at the foot of the lava engulfed church of San Juan Parangaricutiro.