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INSTITUTE OF SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY PUBLICATION NO. 6 



candles are lighted and the all-night wake begins. 

 Several musicians come from La Vuelta, and a re- 

 zandero leads prayers intermittently during the night. 

 Next morning friends of the family dig the grave 

 while the dinner which is to be served after the in- 

 terment is prepared. Because of stormy weather the 

 burial is delayed until about 5 o'clock in the after- 

 noon when a momentary clearing permits the pro- 

 cession to leave the house. First a group of girls 

 emerges from the house carrying palm fronds and 

 flowers. Then follow friends and members of the 

 family carrying lighted candles and trays filled with 

 flowers. Next conies the corpse on the table, to which 

 pole handles have been lashed, and after it, the mu- 

 sicians. Two youths silently carry the white coffin, 

 but only virgin girls, we are told, may support the 

 table itself. The gay marches of the orchestra and 

 the explosions of the rockets are in sharp contrast 

 to the serious faces and silent demeanor of the rest 

 of the party. All is in readiness beside the grave. 

 While the youths tear the leaves from their palm 

 fronds several old women, including the girl's mother, 

 who weeps bitterly, untie the body from its resting 

 place on the table and place it in the coffin. 



A discussion ensues. The folded hands of the corpse 

 hold a palm frond to which are fastened flowers. 

 Some say that these must be removed, and remind 

 the others that flowers in the coffin cause the body 

 to decompose more rapidly. But the others carry the 

 day; the virgin must carry the palm frond, and be- 

 cause of the approaching rain time cannot be taken 

 to disentangle the blossoms. 



The coffin lid is nailed on with a rock, and quick- 

 ly it is lowered into place. All spectators take a 

 handful of earth, place it to their lips, describe the 

 cross, and throw it into the opening. As if this were 

 the signal, the heavens open and the water pours 

 down. "Ave Maria Purisima, jjrotect us from all 

 evil," cry the spectators as they rush for shelter, 

 leaving only a few men to replace the earth. Old 

 Don Antonio, the girl's father, seems unconscious of 

 the rain which beats on his uncovered head and rolls 

 down his cheeks, mingling with his tears. I can 

 hardly believe my ears; he is scolding his dead 

 daughter. "Why did you have to go to eat with your 

 godmother? Didn't I always feed you well at home? 

 If you had only remained at home the lightning would 

 not have struck you." His friends sup])ort him and 

 quiet him. They point out that the godmother also 

 was killed, that it was the will of God, and that he 

 is not the one to dispute that will. The participants 

 return to Ojo de Agua, and the funeral meal is served. 



At all fmierals which I have attended in Tzin- 

 tzuntzan, as in other small Mexican villages, I 

 have been impressed with the atmosphere of 

 friendliness and sympathy which is displayed. 

 One is particularly conscious of the solidarity of 

 the group- — the relatives, compadres. and friends 

 who have assembled. The same could have hap- 



pened to any of them, and when it does, they 

 will expect the same help. To those who come 

 a funeral means a day of relaxation, a good 

 meal — and also a sacrifice of time. In one case, 

 Vicente Rendon had previously accepted my 

 invitation to ride to Mexico City on the follow- 

 ing day. He had planned to glaze pottery to 

 take with him to sell, but the death of the father 

 of his compadre, Salvador Villagomez, meant 

 that he had to help with the funeral. In spite 

 of the temptation — he had never been to Mex- 

 ico City — he unhesitatinigly abandoned the idea 

 of the journey to help his compadre Salvador. 

 As matters turned out, by working all night he 

 was able to finish his work, but even had he 

 not, it would not have occurred to him to grum- 

 ble or to curse the bad luck which obliged him 

 to devote a much-needed day to nonproductive 

 work. 



DEATH STATISTICS 



Death records have been fairly well kept 

 since the establishment of the Municipio in 

 1930. For statistical purposes the 10-year pe- 

 riod 1935-44 has been used. Table 48 shows 

 all recorded deaths, divided according to sex 

 and year, for this period. A total of 326 deaths 

 occurred, an average of 32.6 per year. During 



Table 48. — Total recorded deaths in T zintzuntzan, 

 1935-44 



the same period, 543 births occurred, an excess 

 of births over deaths of 217. Taking this aver- 

 age, and adding 50 to the official Government 

 census figure of 1,077 for 1940 to allow for 

 error, a crude death rate of 28.8 is indicated. 

 The rate for 1944 (using the population figure 

 of February 1945) is 18.7. Though the pe- 

 riod is too short to give a very good picture of 

 trends, it appears that the death rate has been 



