Efemérides: Todos los Santos
Autumn follows summer, and we only talk about death when we start to feel it creeping into the room.
The rest of time, we tend to sweep it under the rug, avoiding thinking of its inevitability. It may not be the best way to deal with it, but it’s a universal habit when facing taboos. In our culture, this holds true much of the year, except for one brief window on the line between October and November, between the end of the harvest and the beginning of winter, when for centuries we have paused to gaze into the eyes of the afterlife: All Saints’ Day, All Saints’ Eve, and All Souls’ Day. Tiempo de Santos.
For the Celts, who inhabited the Iberian Peninsula way before the Romans arrived or Jesus was born, Samhain, the night between October 31st and November 1st, marked the New Year, dividing the calendar into two halves—one of darkness and one of light.
During that night, the veil between the world of the living and the dead grew thinner, and the inhabitants of both realms could crossed over, bringing life and death closer together in a liminal space.
Celtic druids would gather sacred beech branches and light bonfires at dusk to ward off evil spirits and guide the souls of the dead. Villagers would dress in animal skins and masks to confuse the ghosts. And over time, this belief system wove itself into the habits of the northerners, so much so that it eventually became customary for Asturian fishermen not to fish on that night, fearing they might haul up nets filled with the bones of the deceased.
"In the past, the fishermen of Cudillero did not go to sea on the night of All Saints’ Day or the Day of the Annunciation. But once, on the night of All Saints, two boats went out to fish. As they passed by the cove of Artedo, they saw many lights burning over the water, almost at the shoreline. The sailors pointed their boats toward those lights and rowed vigorously, despite the strong breaking waves. When they arrived, they saw with great fear that the lights were produced by bones placed there by the Güestia."
—Aurelio de Llano, 1912
The legend of the Güestia (Asturias) or Santa Compaña (Galicia) has its roots in this night. It is a procession of the dead, led by a living person carrying a cross, walking in complete silence, their path lit by long, flickering candles. Everyone should avoid an encounter with this parade, even though ordinary people cannot see the spirits—only the vedoiros or vedoiras, those mistakenly baptized with the oil of extreme unction, possess this ability. The rest of us may sense their presence through the smell of candles, a cold wind, a shiver down the spine, or the glow of the candles like will-o’-the-wisps.
In Galicia, it was customary to leave the table set after dinner on the eve of Todos los Santos, in case the souls of the departed came to visit and were hungry. The fireplace was also left burning to keep them warm through the night. In Asturias, it was celebrated with an amagüestu, a tradition of roasting chestnuts over a bonfire. On the occasion, the popping and hissing of the castañas were believed to be the cries of souls, and if one burst, it meant somebody had been freed from Purgatory. After the celebration, a few chestnuts were buried as an offering for the deceased.
Amagüestu by Modesto Montoto
Jorge Julián in his puesto de castañas. Emilio Fraile
The pumpkin thing is una americanada. On this side of the Atlantic, there were no pumpkins—instead, people carved faces on turnips, and placed candles inside them to scare away evil spirits. In Andalucía, the tradition was to hollow out reculo melons to make lanterns, which, at the end of the night, were left on doorsteps and windowsills to guide the blessed souls on their journey. All across the land, spirits roamed through the mist while people stayed indoors after dark, hanging protective charms at their homes.
"Ghost turnip" carving from Donegal, Ireland
But no matter how long the night lasts, day always follows.
And when the light comes on November 1st, it is Todos Los Santos, a solemn feast for all the departed who now enjoy eternal life after passing through purgatory. This feast isn’t only for the canonized saints; it honors all the humble, anonymous people who have found their place in the beyond. All Saints’ Day is a reminder that holiness can manifest in simple acts of love and kindness.
The following day, on All Souls’ Day, Christians try to help those pecadores de la pradera who have not yet crossed over by praying, visiting their graves in cemeteries to clean and adorn them, lighting candles, and ringing church bells to help them find their way through purgatory.
Buñuelos and huesos de santo
The occasion is celebrated with earthly pleasures: huesos de santo, panellets, buñuelos. In the Canary Islands, friends and family gather on Día de Finaos to keep vigil, share stories, and enjoy the fruits of the season along with anís, and ron miel.
Panellets
As a ritual, it helps us frame ourselves as part of a community bigger than us, connected to both sides of the river—los que se han ido and los que están por venir. The dead, those waiting on the other shore, are our ancestors, the glue that holds our collective identity together, guiding us from their resting places on who we are and how we should live.
In a world where death is often understood as something anonymous and sterile, like a biological switch that simply takes us out of society, there’s much to learn from Tiempo de Todos los Santos.