Clutching my abuela’s hand, I first encountered Panteón Santiago Atepetlac during Día de Muertos. The air vibrated with a strange mix of sorrow and celebration. Panteón Santiago Atepetlac isn’t just a cemetery. It’s a portal to Atepetlac’s layered past. This northernmost neighborhood on Eje Central has a history as deep as the roots of the ancient trees shading the cemetery’s grounds. Originally part of the ancient Tepeyac ceremonial center, along with Zacatenco and Santa Isabela Tola, Atepetlac holds a unique place in the city’s history. Its name, “hill of water” in Nahuatl, hints at its past as a pilgrimage site where people sought a sign promised by Huitzilopochtli. Legend even whispers of a secret connection, perhaps a tunnel, between Panteón Santiago Atepetlac and the pyramids of Tenayuca. But those who sought it were never seen again. Archaeologist Horacio Corona discovered in the 1950s that the present church in Santiago Atepetlac was built atop a pyramid. This unearths another layer of history, connecting the modern cemetery to pre-Hispanic rituals. Interestingly, Atepetlac was long under the diocese of Tlalnepantla in the State of Mexico, adding a unique wrinkle to its story. Even today, echoes of that connection linger although the Santiaguito church is its own parish now. The Franciscans, from Santiago Tlatelolco, dedicated the church to Saint James. Inside, colonial-era paintings of the Virgin of Guadalupe and Saint Joseph still watch over the faithful. A sculpture of Santiago Matamoros, mounted on his white steed, stands as a testament to the enduring power of faith and history within Panteón Santiago Atepetlac. The cemetery at Panteón Santiago Atepetlac is more than just a resting place. It’s a living tapestry woven with threads of ancient beliefs, colonial influences, and the enduring spirit of a community deeply connected to its past.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to