Day of the Dead, "Dia de los Muertos" - a yearly ritual where the souls of the dead come back to visit the living. It sounds like something out of a gory zombie movie, but it's far from it.

Day of the Dead, once celebrated in August and now celebrated on November 2, "All Souls Day," is a spiritual journey - a celebration by the living to honor their loved ones who have passed on. No one mourns, everyone celebrates.

For the residents of East Los Angeles, the celebrations are more than the ritual altar making or face painting. To some, the very act of celebrating Day of the Dead is a political act of resistance.

Resistance to what?

Everything and everyone.

Unlike the commercialized spectacle that has become the Day of the Dead celebrations at Forever Hollywood cemetery, these East L.A. festivities are on a grander cultural scale.

Calling on the indigenous beliefs of the Aztecs, Mayan, and Toltec traditions, combined with a mix of Catholic dogma, the day of the dead for Chicanos marks a limbo ground for these one and half, second and third generation Latinos.  

For Gerard Meraz, who is known as the vampire Mariachi MC for the evenings' performances, and who also moonlights as a Chicano studies professor at California State University Northridge, Day of the Dead is symbolic for a variety of reasons.

"It speaks to our ingenious roots, proving we are still more indigenous than European," he tells me.  

From his perspective, Day of the Dead is an ancient tradition that cannot deny how Latinos are and have been a part of this hemisphere. The festivities speak to the authenticity and strength of the culture, be it ethnic or spiritual, challenging old Christian views of life and death, while at the same time, establishing indigenous views of duality.

That's where the half-painted faces come in. Within the Aztec culture Coatlicue, which is Nahuatl for "the one with the skirt of serpents," is the Goddess of life, death and rebirth. The duality of life and death is embodied in patrons of the celebrations by painting one half of their face in white, and drawing black skeleton dark circles around the eyes and mouth areas. 

"It shows what we have in common," says Cindy Mosqueda, a UCLA PhD education student and Chicano culture blogger, "Death."

 In the rich history and tradition of the Day of the Dead festivities, death is not an enemy, death is a friend. In Mexico and other parts of Latin America where the day's events are celebrated at the tombs of their ancestors, in East Los Angeles, the mostly English-speaking crowd celebrate at a park, with a concert and an artisan art sale. Small hand crafted skeletons are created to shape the lives of real humans. Calaveras in wedding gowns and music outfits, as doctors, devils or saints.

Everything from calavera crosses, to artwork, to clothing, the Day of the Dead is not only a celebration of life's duality, but also a chance to give the local underground artist community a chance to sell their goods. 

Historically, Day of the Dead is celebrated amongst many cultures. Ancient Egyptians believed that human life did not end with death, but that the afterlife was a transformative next step for the soul. The ancient Chinese believed that life continued after death and that ancestors lived in the spirit world with the gods. The ancestors also had the ability to influence the gods to bring good or bad luck to the living. In return, the living could persuade the ancestors and the gods by making offerings in their honor or holding ceremonies.

For Dia de los Muertos, altars are made to honor and celebrate ancestors with food, flowers and tokens placed at the foot of photographs. It is believed that the odor of the food helps guide ancestors back to the physical earth.

The difference now is that while some of these traditions may seem more historical, Dia de los Muertos in East Los Angeles is as alive today as it was before the Spanish conquest.

For Chicanos, the celebration has evolved from not only just a celebration of duality, but also a way in which a very underground economy of home made arts and crafts can be sold in non-commercial, non-mainstream ways.

Despite the event's grassroots feel and being put on by historic East Los Angeles artist space Self-Help Graphics, some decided not to attend the event because of sponsorship by The Walt Disney Company, 1^st District Supervisor, Gloria Molina and other corporate and political entities.

This contradiction resonates with attendees. How can you hold elected officials and corporations accountable for your community without having to feel like you sold out your culture?

When asked why he attends, despite the disagreements and this new form of American corporate and cultural identity, Meraz asserts that these and many more contradictions are the essence of a truly juxtaposed Chicano culture. To be Chicano and to celebrate Dia de los Muertos is a duality in itself.