Celebrating Hispanic Day of the Dead with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Celebrating Hispanic Day of the Dead with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

I lived in California several years before I could find out about the Hispanic celebration of Day of the Dead, which is celebrated between October 31^st and November 2^nd.  Despite going to Hispanic grocery stores, having a Mexican neighbor, and being able to read Spanish, I still could not find out information on how to set up a Day of the Dead altar, for example.

I had seen ofrendas, Day of the Dead altars, when I attended a Day of the Dead (Dia de los Muertos) parade in Salinas, California.  At this parade, I also watched the Popoktepl Aztec Dancers, who wore feathers on their heads and noisemakers on their legs, drank hot chocolate, and ate sweet bread in the shape of a skull.  However, I still had no idea how to set up an ofrenda.

I wanted to set up a Day of the Dead altar to add something educational to my daughter Florence’s celebration of Halloween.  I found out how to learn more about ofrendas when I read the newspaper and saw that Tere Romo of the Mexican Museum in San Francisco would be doing a talk on Day of the Dead celebrations in the United States in Monterey.  I made plans to attend this talk with Florence.

Dr. Amalia Mesa-Baines introduced Tere Romo by saying that Day of the Dead is an ancient tradition that has Meso-American roots.  It was transformed by the Catholic Church to fit into the holiday of All Souls’ Day.  The holiday was revitalized in the 1960s through the Chicano movement.

Romo told the audience that she was most interested in how Day of the Dead was celebrated in California.  Originally, the holiday was celebrated in the home.  The holiday began to be celebrated as a community event at the Gallery de la Raza in San Francisco at a 1972 exhibit.

After 1848 when Mexico ceded large tracts of territory to the United States, many Mexicans discovered overnight that they were Americans.  These people, who lived mostly in rural areas, observed Day of the Dead by making crepe paper decorations for the graves.  They would spend the day at the cemetery and eat a meal there.  Other people would build ofrendas in the home.

In the 1970s, Day of the Dead became an urban, community, and political phenomenon.  Artists made ofrendas an art form.  Day of the Dead became a focal point for helping Chicanos reclaim their Mexican and indigenous roots.  Its observance provided an alternative to Western European religion.

“What gets overlooked,” Romo pointed out, “is the role of spirituality in the Chicano movement.”  Romo showed us a series of slides of ofrendas, which all featured flowers (especially marigolds, the symbol of death in Mexico), food, photographs of the deceased, and paper cutouts.

“Death is life’s equalizer,” Romo commented.  What has allowed the event to survive according to Romo is the message of duality of life and death, meaning that death is a part of life.

Romo stressed that Day of the Dead rituals from Mexico could not be translated to the United States.  “We have our own celebration here that is both political and spiritual,” she continued.  I thought this was because Hispanics in the United States were a minority culture and not a dominant culture as in Mexico.

One question from the audience generated some interesting comments.  Romo said the holiday had origins before the Olmecs, who are considered to be the mother culture of Mexico and Central America.

“The concept of duality of life and death holds all the cultures of Mexico and Central America together as well as the cultivation of corn,” she said.

Romo also noted that Day of the Dead was originally held in August, but the Spanish moved it to November 2^nd to correspond to All Souls’ Day.  As for the ofrendas, she explained that prior to the coming of the Spanish, the dead were buried under the floor of the living area in homes.  This custom may have been at the origin of building altars in the home.

I asked about foods served for Day of the Dead.

“They are regional,” she replied.  “In Michoacan, they eat chocolate moles (chicken with savory and spicy chocolate sauce).”

A few days later, I took Florence to an art workshop where we made things for our very own ofrenda.  I made papel picado, a crepe paper decoration, and Florence painted a sugar skull.

“Como se dice ‘skull’ en espagnol?” I asked the children whom Florence was sitting with.  (“How do you say ‘skull’ in Spanish” was my question.)

“Calavera,” they answered.

When we returned to the house, I cleaned off one of the bookshelves in the dining room that held cookbooks.  I thought of how I would like to remember the dead in the family as I set up the ofrenda.

I put one of my crystal shining cloths on the top of the bookshelf.  It reminded me of the dishtowels I had used at my great-aunt Winnie’s to dry dishes.  I set out pictures of great-grandparents, glasses of water, tea, a tea pot, and sea salt to remind me of Aunt Winnie.

Next, I put a rose-scented candle with a picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe on it on top of the counter.  (You can buy these candles in California supermarkets.)  After that, I placed Florence’s Technicolor sugar skull on the altar.  I put up a poster of a skeleton band playing that I had gotten from my Day of the Dead box from Shambala Redstone Editions.  The papel picado I made went over it all.

Florence and I then went on a mission to find marigolds.  We found some at Mi Tierra market.

We installed the flowers on the ofrenda and invited our Mexican neighbor and his French wife over.  They liked the altar and asked Florence about the people in the photographs.

I made tacos for dinner and felt like I was part of California’s wonderful world mix.

By Ruth Paget - Author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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Eating an Ancient Roman Meal with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Eating an Ancient Roman Meal with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

The sentence “Elegant and easy recipes from history’s first gourmet” convinced me to make a meal using recipes from the first century Roman cookbook by Apicius called De Re Coquineria.

Apicius’ cookbook was updated by author John Edwards in his book Roman Cookery with items such as American measures.  According to Edwards there were three foodies named Apicius in ancient Rome.  Apicius was a name akin to “Miss Manners.
My ancient Roman meal plan would support my daughter Florence’s study of ancient Rome at her Waldorf School.

I announced my meal project to Florence on the way home from school in the car.

“You’re not doing one of those educational meals again,” Florence practically wailed.

“Don’t worry.  You’ll like it,” I said despite remembering some of my ethnic first-try foods like gummy tagliatelle and sludgy rice.

“I’m making artichokes and chicken,” I said without elaborating on the sweet, tart, savory, and minty flavor combinations used in some of the dishes.  I let the subject drop and discreetly gathered the ingredients.

When the weekend rolled around, I told my family that I was making steamed artichokes, sautéed chicken, and stewed peaches without mentioning the Roman part.  Artichokes unlike tomatoes appeared on Roman tables from the beginnings of time.  (Tomatoes came from the Americas.)

The artichokes were steamed with vegetable stock to which I added black pepper (native to the Malabar Coast of India and coming to Rome through its Levantine possessions in modern-day Syria), cumin (coming Egypt, another Roman colony), and olive oil.

My husband Laurent, Florence, and I gathered around a plate of the cooled artichokes.  We peeled off the leaves and dunked the edible leaf bases into olive oil and vinegar dressing.  The cumin flavor made the artichokes taste almost like meat.  I learned that black pepper can give foods a little zing just by using it in the water to steam something.

“These artichokes are really good,” Florence said, which encouraged me to reveal their source.

“They’re Roman artichokes,” I nonchalantly added.  Florence and Laurent looked at each other with better-eat-what’s-good-now glances.

“Maybe Caesar ate artichokes like these,” I ventured, warming up to my food-as-history lesson.

“Caesar was too busy fighting to eat good food,” Florence remarked.

“It’s so boring to learn about fighting,” she continued.  She went on to tell us about Caesar and the Gauls, Caesar and Pompey, and Caesar and Cleopatra.  She certainly had retained a lot about her boring school subject.

I offered some more artichokes to my family.  With America’s artichoke capital, Castroville, nearby, we could eat these almost everyday.

I then prepared chicken by adding grounds herbs and spices to a saucepan of chicken stock flavored with red wine vinegar, chopped dates, honey, and olive oil.  I brought the chicken to the table and brought up the topic of Rome again.

“Have you been studying the Aeneid?” I asked.

“That story is so sad when Aeneas leaves Queen Dido,” Florence said.

“Aeneas had to leave Queen Dido and Carthage to found Rome,” I told her.

“Why didn’t he just stay with the woman he loved,” my young Californian asked.

“Because he had to serve his people.  Part of being Roman is doing things for the good of others even when you want to do something differently.  It’s a lot like being a parent sometimes,” I said and smiled at Florence.

“Will you show me how to make the Roman chicken?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said.

I smiled again and wondered if Roman matrons with houses full of servants got to show their daughters how to cook.

By Ruth Paget - Author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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Visiting the Tomb of Eleanor of Aquitaine at Fontevraud (France) with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Visiting the Tomb of Eleanor of Aquitaine at Fontevraud (France) with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget


Fontevraud Abbey in Anjou, France is the major sepulcher of the Plantagenet kings of England and their families, who also ruled vast portions of modern-day France.  The Abbey also functions as a major transition between the childhood story of Robin Hood and the historical figures who were part of that English folktale.

My daughter Florence had studied the story of Robin Hood in sixth grade at her Waldorf School.  Robin Hood is an outlaw who steals from the rich to give to the poor in the English tale.  It is a medieval story, which features Robin Hood as an excellent archer and swordsman.  

To make sure the Robin Hood story and other medieval tales stayed with the children, my daughter’s Waldorf school had the children practice archery and run for an hour before school to prepare them for the Medieval Games that the Waldorf School in Marin County outside San Francisco would be holding.  They made crests to represent their family heritage and sewed them on tunics to participate in this affair, too.  All of these activities gave Florence a good background in the life of the Middle Ages.

When my husband Laurent, Florence, and I went on a trip to France, I told Florence that some of the main characters from Robin Hood were buried in Fontevraud Abbey.

“Cool,” she responded.  That settled it on going there to visit.

Fontevraud Abbey was founded in 1101.  It was considered to be an aristocratic abbey, which was important for receiving donations and ensuring defense.  Fontevraud was run by an abbess even though it was a mixed community of men and women. 

There were 36 abbesses at Fontevraud before it was dismantled after the French Revolution.  Five of the abbesses were from the Bourbon family.  Louis XV (1710 – 1774) sent four of his daughters to Fontevraud Abbey for their education.

Fifteen Plantagenets are buried at Fontevraud Abbey but the ones that I was going to weave a story around were Isabella d’Angoulême (1188 – 1246, Queen of England and widow of John, King of England), Richard the Lionheart (1157 – 1199, Richard I, King of England), Henri II (1133 – 1189, King of England and Count of Anjou), and Eleanor of Aquitaine (1122 – 1204, Queen of France by Louis VII and Queen of England by Henri II).  These four have their tombs and effigies arranged together in the Fontevraud Abbey Church.

I stood with Florence by Isabella d’Angoulême’s tomb and said, “Isabella d’Angoulême was the second wife of King John of England.  Remember, he was the bad king when Robin Hood was alive.  King John was so bad that he is buried in England and his wife is in France.  Robin Hood took money from all the rich people that King John gave money to and gave it to the poor.”

“Is the Sheriff of Nottingham here?” Florence asked.

“No, just the royals get to be buried in Fontevraud,” I answered.

“Over here is the tomb of Richard the Lionheart, who was away fighting the Crusades in the Robin Hood story and in real life.  Crusades cost a lot of money.  That’s one of the reasons King John was taking money from people.  King Richard is the good guy in Robin Hood, though.  Everyone wants him to come home,” I said trying to remember the tale I was telling.

Fortunately, I had great polychrome effigy props to work with, so we walked around to the next tomb, which was Henry II’s.

“Henry II, the King of England, was the father of King John and King Richard.  He had a hard time with all his sons, because only the oldest son inherits land in England.  They even called John, Jean sans Terre, meaning “John without Land,” because he was a young son,” I said.

“But, he became king,” Florence said.

“That’s right.  If a king does not have a child in England, his next eldest brother inherits the throne.” I said.

Finally, we arrived at the tomb of Eleanor of Aquitaine.  “She’s holding a book, because she loved to read and gave money to authors and artists.  She could read and speak several languages as royal family members can do,” I said.  I was trying to promote Florence’s study of Spanish and Japanese at school.

“Eleanor caused a lot of trouble for her husbands.  The French put the Salic Law into usage when she died so women could not inherit land,” I said.  “The French did not want England to run their country.”

After that we visited the Romanesque kitchens before going to the gift shop.  I bought Florence a book that I knew Eleanor of Aquitaine would approve of called Contes et legends au Moyen Âge français by Marcelle et Georges Huisman.  The book is not translated in English, but its title means “Fairy Tales and Legends of the French Middle Ages.”  It was a middle school student’s books with games and puzzles related to the stories that included:

-The love stories of Aucassin and Nicolette and Floire and Blanche Fleur

-Chansons de Geste told by troubadours in southern France such as Bertha of the Big Feet, Gerard from Vienne, The Story of Roland, and The Legend of William of Orange

-The Story of Saint Ursula from The Golden Legend

-Fables such as La Folle Largesse or Crazy Generosity

-Fox stories – the French still believe it is good to emulate a wily fox

I knew Florence would learn French when she had the incentive to do so using the language learning strategies she used in Spanish and Japanese class at school.  I liked showing Florence how England and France had a common history at Fontevraud Abbey and think it is a great place to talk about Robin Hood.

By Ruth Paget - Author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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Celebrating Beauty at a Thai Loy Krathong Festival with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Celebrating Beauty at a Thai Loy Krathong Festival with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget 

When I read about the Thai Loy Krathong Festival in the newspaper, I convinced my family to go by noting they would have traditional dancers, an orchestra, and good food.

Loy Krathong usually falls in November and celebrates the goddess of water named Phra Mae Kongka according to the brochure handed out at the festival, which was held at the Filipino American Community Club in Marina, California.

The brochure further stated that Loy Krathong began in the thirteenth century during the Kingdom of Sukothai.  Queen Nang Noppamas, who may be a mythical character, made a boat with candles and incense in it and floated it down river to honor Phra Mae Kongka.

Beauty contests are run during Loy Krathong to honor Queen Nang Noppamas and one was held for a junior king and queen at the Loy Krathong Festival we attended.  All the children were dressed in traditional Thai costumes, and the girls had their hair done up in buns to resemble crowns.  I knew the deciding factor for the winners would be something like who had helped the most at the festival.

My family participated at the festival as audience members and diners.  My husband Laurent, daughter Florence, and I admired the Thai dancers.  There was a small orchestra set up with Thai xylophones called ranads.  Ranads have 21 or 22 bars and get their vibrating sound from a boat-shaped resonator.  Unlike Western resonators, Thai musicians play ranads with two mallets. 

We watched the entertainment as we sipped Thai iced tea made of strong, sugary tea with condensed milk over ice.  I bought fried plantains for my family and a dish called palo, which was a pork stew with boiled eggs that had been flavored with cinnamon and star anise.  It had a wonderful aroma and tasted good, too.

We sat with an American man whose wife was Thai.  He was the chief winemaker at one of Carmel Valley’s best wineries.  He had studied at the University of Bordeaux and had fun speaking in French with us.  He invited us to a Christmas wreath-making party at the winery with a barbecue and cellar tour.  We heartily accepted.

You never can tell what will happen at a Loy Krathong Festival or any other festival for that matter.  Festivals are truly a fun way for communities to learn about each other.

By Ruth Paget - Author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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Visiting the Louvre's Egyptian Galleries in Paris (France) with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Visiting the Louvre's Egyptian Galleries in Paris (France) with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

My husband and I took our daughter Florence on a trip to France when she was in the fifth grade.  She had been studying ancient Egypt in school, and we asked one of the family cousins who was a retired school teacher to take us on a tour of the Louvre’s Egyptian collection.

Laurent’s teacher cousin had taught the history of ancient Egypt to middle school students in Paris and had brought many classes to the Louvre.  She had a set tour and points to cover, which we did at an American pace however.  I knew she was accustomed to students who walk in a line like those you can see pictured in Ludwig Bemelman’s Madeleine picture books.

The entire American family stopped to ask questions about works that interested us during our lecture.  We walked around exhibits and stooped down and stood up on our tiptoes to get better views of the artwork.  Florence made commentaries, too, which children are not supposed to do in France.

When she was shown canopic jars, she asked, “What goes in those?” which translator mom asked teacher cousin.

“Viscera such as the hearts and lungs of the dead pharaohs,” was teacher cousin’s reply.

“Gross.  That’s nasty,” was Florence’s loud reply.

We examined the writing on all the exhibits we saw to determine which kind of Egyptian writing it was.  Florence had learned to draw hieroglyphs at school, but within hieroglyphic writing there are variations.  We looked for the highly wrought artistic hieroglyphs that appeared on religious art, stylized cursive hieroglyphs that captured the essence of the form, and angular hieratic hieroglyphs used for everyday communication. 

Teacher cousin asked, “What kind of school does Florence go to?”

I knew my answer would be unpopular when I said, “Waldorf.”

I could almost hear teacher cousin saying to herself, “German schools set up by an Austrian.”

I loved France, but I knew that the culture of Austria’s Habsburg Empire was perpetuated with German teaching methods through Waldorf.  The Habsburg Empire was multilingual and multicultural; it had lessons for intercultural relations and education in the United States I thought. 

I loved Waldorf’s arts curriculum for which it is famous, but the social studies and foreign language curriculum for children are what made me want Florence attend this school.  I was very happy that Florence could distinguish among different types of hieroglyphics, for example.  I knew she would be able to identify Chinese, Japanese, and Korean writing with no problem in the future, too.

Aside from the hieroglyphics, Florence’s favorite artworks in the Louvre’s Egyptian galleries were the papyrus pages from the Egyptian Book of the Dead.  Florence’s class had written and drawn pages from this book in class.  The afterlife is when life really started for the Egyptians, so it was not a morbid topic for the class to study.

We stood in front of one Book of the Dead text, and Florence showed teacher cousin what she knew:

“Anubis, who has the jackal head, leads the dead to Osiris for judgment by the Goddess Maat.”

“Where’s Maat?” I asked.

“She’s a feather here,” Florence responded.

After viewing this Book of the Dead page, Florence let teacher cousin finish our Egyptian gallery tour uninterrupted. 

Afterwards we ate at the international food court, which is always crowded.  You have to order, get your food, and then wait for a table to be vacated before sitting down.  Laurent and Florence ate Mexican food; I had a Lebanese sampler plate; and teacher cousin ate French.  I hope teacher cousin had fun with her Americans in the Egyptian collection.

By Ruth Paget - Author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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