Spider

My Tío Nacho (short for Ignacio) called me araña, spider, when I was a kid. It made sense then because I was very skinny, almost wiry, white-skinned, and had blonde hair. He said I reminded him of a newborn spider, and then he would pinch me. He would pinch me to simulate a spider bite.

Now I have grey hairs, my belly is rounder and my uncle has recently died from a heart attack. A month earlier my paternal grandfather, Ignacio Navarro, passed away during his noon nap. He was 98 and healthy but had lost his hearing--or so he claimed. He also had 22 children and at least 120 grand- and great-grand-children. He was a peaceful man and valued family. He would tell me, “See what I have spawned,” as he gestured to a wall of photos, then exclaim “puro Navarro!”

It was November 1st when I received the news about my uncle. Earlier in the evening I had been in Spanish Harlem celebrating el “Dia de los Muertos.” Nov. 1st was also my mother’s 59th birthday—the cycle of life.

Mexico doesn’t celebrate Halloween; instead on Nov. 2 we celebrate/remember our departed loved ones. In-home altars are erected with photos, food and other favorite items of the departed. To help the dead find their way back to us, candles and incense are lit, and cempasúchiles (marigolds) with their sweet scent are placed everywhere (the sent also wards off bad spirits). The night ends with a traditional visit to the grave of the departed.

Mexico’s ancestors did not fear death. They saw life as a journey—an earthly body was just one phase. Therefore, it is no surprise that the national figure which represents the duality of our existence is the skeleton. I view the calavera as our essential self stripped of all superficialities (thus, the title of this blog: the calavera chronicles).

The goal is not to fear death but to celebrate life—to continuously look to the next adventure. To my mother, I say, “live fearlessly.” To my grandfather and uncle, I say, “see you in the next life; I will be the white spider.”

Lost

Lost is TV at its greatest (Wednesdays at 9 pm, ABC)! Have you seen it? This is the second season. Basically, it’s about a group of plane crash survivors and their experiences on a mysterious island--which every day seems to have more people living on it. I am hooked because it serves as a metaphor for the status of our culture--Are we "lost" as a group? I believe our social fabric is tearing apart and we are all desperately trying to hold it together to survive. What does it mean to be American in 2005?

People have likened the show to the book the Lord of the Flies. There is also speculation that the characters are not “lost” but in purgatory, such as Dante’s Inferno. Each island inhabitant has a story and the development of their character leads to revealing their “demon.” In essence, each character is paying for past sins but with the chance of redemption. This theme has evolved in the current (second) season, embodied in the slogan, “everything happens for a reason.” It is a clever thread that intertwines each character’s fate, leading the viewer to the conclusion that the crash was inevitable and that everyone’s survival (or redemption) is tied to the group.

The main character in the show is "Jack," a doctor and the "'reluctant" leader. He is positioned as a “man of science," the rational one. Then there is "John," a “man of faith," who believes he (and everyone) has been given a second chance at a new life. He represents faith and spirituality.

These two characters have opposing philosophies on what to do to survive. It is building a tension--dialectic--which is very interesting to me because I have not resolved my own conflict between Science and Faith. I have not resolved the mysteries of my island…