Skulls, spice and spirit: Mexican Embassy marks Día de Muertos in Budapest – photos

In a city more familiar with mist and mourning at this time of year, Budapest was recently steeped in marigolds, copal smoke and the earthy tang of Mexican spice, as Día de Muertos – Mexico’s most soulful celebration of life and death – made its vivid debut at TODO, an authentic Mexican restaurant in the heart of the Hungarian capital.

Budapest stirred by the spirit of Día de Muertos

The Día de Muertos celebrations began with Mexico’s Ambassador to Hungary, Rosario Asela Molinero, unveiling a richly decorated ofrenda, the traditional altar to honour the dead, at TODO Mexican Kitchen in central Budapest. Dedicated to Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, the shrine featured portraits of the artists set above a table crowded with marigolds, sugar skulls, various sacred items and tiny clay figurines all closely related to Día de Muertos – an elaborate balance of memory, ritual and colour.

“Día de Muertos is a weeklong journey through our history, our families, our emotions,” said Ambassador Molinero. “Back home, remembering the dead isn’t such a quiet or sombre thing like it is in Hungary – we do it with food, music and dancing, sometimes right there at the cemetery. We honour everyone – the loved, the forgotten, and the good and the bad in all of them.”

Unlike the commercially driven Halloween, Mexico’s Día de Muertos is a profound, layered celebration. Its roots stretch back to pre-Hispanic civilisations, where the line between the living and the dead was believed to blur once a year. Recognised by UNESCO as part of humanity’s intangible cultural heritage, Día de Muertos is both deeply spiritual and richly communal.

Layers of memory, ritual and meaning

The ambassador walked guests through the days of remembrance during Día de Muertos, each dedicated to a different group of souls: from those who died in accidents (28 October), to forgotten spirits in purgatory (29), unbaptised children (30–31), christened children (1 November), and finally, all our departed loved ones (2 November). “We celebrate all,” she said, “because one day we’ll join them.”

The ofrenda itself was a stunning mix of tradition and personal touches. Beyond candles, water, salt and the ever-present pan de muerto – a sweet bread shaped with bone-like adornments – Molinero included more intimate artefacts: the tiny skull of her beloved late dog, and bones wrapped in memory. “I couldn’t bring my monkey though,” she bittersweetly added.

There were also two ‘guests of honour’ at the altar. One, a skeletal figure seated proudly in a chair, was introduced as Pacheco, a journalist who died during the Mexican uprising. The other, unmistakable in her feathered hat and painted grin, was La Calavera Catrina – the elegant lady death born from José Guadalupe Posada’s satirical print, later immortalised by Diego Rivera. Once a critique of vanity, she now reigns as the queen of the holiday.