Bread of the Dead

To the people of New York, Paris, or London, "death" is a word that is never pronounced because it burns the lips. The Mexican, however, frequents it, jokes about it, caresses it, sleeps with it, celebrates it; it is one of his favorite toys and most steadfast love. Of course, in his attitude perhaps there is as much fear as there is in one of the others; at least he does not hide it; he confronts it face to face with patience, disdain, or irony.

Octavio Paz, 'The Labyrinth of Solitude

This is pan de muerto (literally, dead man's bread):

Last weekend was El Dia de los Muertos here in Guadalajara.  For the most part, this is a solemn occasion dedicated to the memory of those we have lost. Families visit the cemetery and bring small altars to the departed, on which they place photos of the deceased along with treats they had enjoyed in life (cookies, tequila, etc.).

That side of Dia de los Muertos is not visible to outsiders. What we do see is a carnival-like celebration somewhat reminiscent of Halloween, with a much stronger emphasis on the 'death' aspect rather than playing dress-up. Kids paint their faces to look like skeletons and eat sugar skulls called calabritas:

All in all, a good time.