On Day of the Dead, tourists bump shoulders with celebrating families in San Andrés Mixquic在亡灵节当天,圣安德烈斯·米克斯基克的游客与庆祝节日的家庭摩肩接踵。
As night falls over the cemetery in San Andrés Mixquic, a historic village on the outskirts of Mexico City, the family of Ángel Jiménez del Águila huddles around his grave.

Jan Sochor/Getty Images
As night falls over the cemetery in San Andrés Mixquic, a historic village on the outskirts of Mexico City, the family of Ángel Jiménez del Águila huddles around his grave.
“ Salucita for our dead,” says Jesús, one of Ángel’s sons, raising a toast to his father, who died in 2010.
Only a few hours remain before the door between the world of the living and the dead opens: the family has gathered to honor Ángel during the Day of the Dead , a traditional Mexican celebration of departed loved ones held November 1 and 2.
After days of cleaning graves and decorating headstones with marigolds, the cemetery here in San Andrés Mixquic is filled with the scent of copal incense and burning candles. It’s also filled with tourists: dozens from around the world wander through the cemetery, camera flashes popping as they attempt close-up shots of families celebrating in the dusk.
The village’s efforts to preserve one of Mexico’s most iconic celebrations often draw these tourists searching for authentic experiences. But the influx also risks turning mourning into a spectacle, locals say, as visitors outnumber locals.
Martha Nashieli, one of Ángel’s daughters, remembers arriving at the cemetery to lay flowers at father’s grave a few years ago, only to be forced to wait outside due to the volume of visitors.
“They wouldn’t let me in,” Martha says. “I was frustrated because he’s my dad, I’m from here, and they weren’t letting me enter because there were seas of people.”
The Day of the Dead’s central celebration occurs in Mexican cemeteries and graveyards, where families gather around the tombstones to honor their departed loved ones with songs, incense and votive offerings. It is often erroneously compared to Halloween, though the two holidays may share ancestry in Catholicism’s All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day. Others believe the Day of the Dead is uniquely Mexican, with some experts postulating that its origins go back thousands of years.
Martha, 40, grew up seeing tourists among the headstones. Since childhood, she’s accompanied her family every November 2 to visit her grandparents’ graves, surrounded by outsiders.
“Suddenly, something intimate becomes — I wouldn’t want to put it this way — but it becomes a spectacle, doesn’t it?” Martha says. “And this is something intimate, something very private. At each grave, there’s a sense of communion.”
Martha knows visitors are part of Mixquic’s story, and she doesn’t want them to stop coming. As she sees it, the dilemma is how to share a tradition they want the world to know about – without losing the space and intimacy that keeps it alive.
“The truth is, there just isn’t enough room for all of us anymore,” she says. “We’re very cramped. Our cemetery…well, there’s simply no room for more people.”
In 2025, around 100,000 people visited the cemetery between October 31 and November 2, according to Mexico City government figures — roughly seven times the village’s population, all in three days.
In the past, authorities installed a bridge over the cemetery so visitors could look down at the graves without occupying the space where families carry out their rituals, recalls Driselda Sánchez-Aguirre, a professor at the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM), who has studied mass tourism in Mixquic.
The measure drew criticism because some residents felt they were being watched “like little animals in a zoo,” she says, and the bridge was ultimately used only once.
Today, the only measures in place are recommendations in Mexico City’s official tourism guide, which advises visitors to ask families for permission before taking photographs and to avoid using flash.
Mexico City Mayor Clara Brugada has also acknowledged that the Mixquic cemetery lacks sufficient space for burials and pledged to work toward a solution – but the initiative does not explicitly address tourism.
Simply asking tourists to respect the cemetery is not enough, according to Sánchez-Aguirre.
“When the cemetery exceeds its physical capacity, individual responsibility gets lost in the crowd,” she explains. When visitors see others using flash photography, speaking loudly, or stepping on graves to get a better angle, they may start to think that “this is what everyone does.”
As an alternative, she proposes preparing visitors before they enter the cemetery by giving them clear instructions on how to behave: “You are entering a sacred space where families keep vigil over their loved ones,” she says, describing the message visitors should receive. “This is not a spectacle.”
Martha maintains that visitors from around the world have a role to play in these special days – so long as they are respectful.
In her view, their curiosity about the Day of the Dead helps keep the tradition alive.
“It becomes a kind of communion,” she told CNN during last year’s celebrations. “Even if we don’t know them, we know they come with respect and a desire to learn about our traditions. So, we invite them to come respectfully – to come live our tradition, to get to know it, to preserve it, to take it back to their own homes.”
CNN’s Max Saltman contributed reporting.
Jan Sochor/Getty Images
夜幕降临在墨西哥城郊外历史悠久的圣安德烈斯米克斯基克村的墓地里,安赫尔·希门尼斯·德尔·阿吉拉的家人围在他的坟墓旁。
“为逝去的亲人干杯,”安赫尔的儿子之一赫苏斯举杯向他于 2010 年去世的父亲致敬。
距离生者与死者之间的大门开启只剩几个小时了:家人聚集在一起,在亡灵节(墨西哥为纪念逝去的亲人而举行的传统节日,于 11 月 1 日和 2 日举行)期间缅怀安赫尔。
经过数日的清扫坟墓和用万寿菊装饰墓碑,圣安德烈斯·米斯基克的这座墓园里弥漫着乳香和燃烧蜡烛的香气。这里也挤满了游客:来自世界各地的数十名游客漫步在墓园中,闪光灯此起彼伏,他们试图近距离拍摄在黄昏中庆祝的家庭。
该村致力于保护墨西哥最具标志性的庆典之一,这常常吸引着寻求原汁原味体验的游客。但当地人表示,游客的涌入也可能使哀悼变成一场闹剧,因为游客数量超过了当地居民。
安赫尔的女儿之一玛莎·纳谢利回忆说,几年前她来到墓地,想在父亲的墓前献花,却因为访客太多而被迫在外面等候。
“他们不让我进去,”玛莎说。“我很沮丧,因为他是我爸爸,我也是本地人,他们不让我进去,因为那里人山人海。”
亡灵节的核心庆祝活动在墨西哥的墓地举行,家人们聚集在墓碑旁,用歌声、香火和祭品缅怀逝去的亲人。人们常常误将亡灵节与万圣节相提并论,尽管这两个节日可能都源于天主教的诸圣节和万灵节。也有人认为亡灵节是墨西哥独有的节日,一些专家推测它的起源可以追溯到数千年前。
40岁的玛莎从小就经常看到游客在墓碑间穿梭。从孩提时代起,她每年11月2日都会和家人一起去祭拜祖父母的坟墓,周围总是挤满了外人。
“突然间,一些私密的事情变成了——我不想这么说——但它变成了一场闹剧,不是吗?”玛莎说。“而这原本是私密的,非常私人的事情。在每一座坟墓前,都有一种交流的感觉。”
玛莎知道游客是米克斯奎克故事的一部分,她不希望他们停止光顾。在她看来,难题在于如何在不失去维系传统活力的空间和亲密氛围的前提下,与世人分享他们希望世人了解的传统。
“事实是,我们这里已经没有足够的空间容纳所有人了,”她说。“我们非常拥挤。我们的墓地……唉,实在没有地方再容纳更多的人了。”
根据墨西哥城市政府的数据,2025 年 10 月 31 日至 11 月 2 日期间,约有 10 万人参观了该墓地——大约是该村人口的七倍,而这仅仅是三天时间。
墨西哥国立自治大学 (UNAM) 教授德里塞尔达·桑切斯-阿吉雷 (Driselda Sánchez-Aguirre) 回忆说,过去,当局在墓地上架起了一座桥,这样游客就可以俯瞰坟墓,而不会占用家属举行仪式的空间。德里塞尔达·桑切斯-阿吉雷曾研究过米斯基克的大众旅游。
她说,这项措施遭到了批评,因为一些居民觉得他们“像动物园里的小动物一样”被监视,而且这座桥最终只使用了一次。
目前唯一的措施是墨西哥城官方旅游指南中的建议,该指南建议游客在拍照前征得家人的同意,并避免使用闪光灯。
墨西哥城市长克拉拉·布鲁加达也承认米克斯基克公墓缺乏足够的墓地空间,并承诺努力寻求解决方案——但该倡议并未明确提及旅游业。
桑切斯-阿吉雷认为,仅仅要求游客尊重墓地是不够的。
她解释说:“当墓地超过其物理容纳能力时,个人责任就会在人群中消失。”当游客看到其他人使用闪光灯拍照、大声说话或踩踏坟墓以寻找更好的拍摄角度时,他们可能会开始认为“大家都这样做”。
她建议,作为替代方案,应该在访客进入墓地之前,向他们提供清晰的行为准则:“你们即将进入一个神圣的地方,家属们在这里守护着他们的亲人,”她这样描述访客应该接收到的信息。“这里不是用来作秀的。”
玛莎认为,来自世界各地的游客在这些特殊的日子里都能发挥作用——只要他们保持尊重。
在她看来,他们对亡灵节的好奇心有助于这一传统的延续。
“这变成了一种交流,”她在去年的庆祝活动期间告诉CNN。“即使我们不认识他们,我们也知道他们带着尊重和了解我们传统的愿望而来。所以,我们邀请他们带着尊重前来——来体验我们的传统,了解它,保护它,并把它带回他们自己的家乡。”
CNN的马克斯·索尔特曼对此报道亦有贡献。