Buenos Aires: La Chacarita Cemetery (June 9, 2026)
A short walk from my hotel is the largest cemetery in Argentina and one of the largest in Latin America: La Chacarita Cemetery. This cemetery consists of 95 hectares (230 acres) of land with the outside perimeter hosting a 3-story building with floor to ceiling coffins and urns.
As I marveled at the sheer size, I wondered if this was the largest cemetery in the world. Despite being the largest one I’ve ever visited, it’s not … by a large margin.
Wadi-us-Salaam in Najaf, Iraq holds that distinction with 601 hectares (about 1,485 acres) and holds upwards of 6 million bodies.
Entrance to La Chacarita Cemetery, largest in Argentina
It is difficult to express how extremely large this cemetery is. For comparison, it’s about a third the size of Central Park in New York city, which is 341 hectares (approximately 843 acres).
It’s roughly the same size as Mont-Saint-Michel (France): This famous medieval abbey, village, and its surrounding bay in Normandy span exactly 100 hectares (247 acres). It is one of Europe's most iconic architectural feats and historic pilgrimage sites.
This mausoleum could be a stand-alone church (one of 4,000!?!)
Walking through the more than 4,000 mausoleums was like entering “The City of the Dead.” It only got more intriguing when you could see inside one of the many mausoleums and witness the stairs taking you deep underground where often entire families of tombs exist.
As I photograph these underground stairways, my imagination ignites
I see how authors write stories of mythical explorations as their characters descend stairs such as these opening into underground tunnels, catacombs and the spiritual under world. Seeing these locked door and the stairs to disappear into the underbelly of a city lead to all sorts of creative and imaginative places.
My mind drifts to my son, Will, who enjoys creating vivid descriptions of these kinds of underground worlds. He’d love to walk among these mausoleums capturing the essence of what it feels like to be exactly in a space like this and exploring the world beneath. And yet, this is only one small portion of the full cemetery all around.
Looking even closer, I see this particular mausoleum is falling apart
Nature has its own way of reclaiming the space it once occupied. As trees grow from the inside, they push their way up and out. I notice this is not only this mausoleum, but also part of the natural growth all around and everywhere I choose to look.
One of many trees growing out through mausoleums
As I continue to take in all that this cemetery has to offer, I’m struck by all the graves of so many who have gone before me. This is where we all end up … eventually. A name. A number. A photography. A family’s history all captured in a single space with a declaration, “Here lies someone who was loved and is no longer with us.”
This hallway goes as far as I can see in both directions …
I am struck by the paradox of just how alive I feel walking through this cemetery. Thoughts of, “Don’t waste your one and beautiful life” and “Feel what it’s like to breathe clean air and connect with the earth in this very moment.” While I feel connected to the many souls who have departed this earth, I’m equally grounded in the gift of my own life.
Once confused by cemeteries, I acknowledge a deeper understanding of the truth of life. Whatever short time I have here on this earth, it’s not worth allowing my ego to get the best of me. Any quarrels I have are ultimately meaningless. While I am alive, it’s my honor to express the deep empathy I have for every other living soul, as none of us know just how much time we have left here. The shortness of life makes it all the more precious; a drive to live my life to the fullest while I can.
Violeta … the Spanish version of the name “Violet”
How close I came to losing my daughter just a little over a year ago. I’m flooded with the memories of her attempted suicide and recall how helpless I felt as we took her to the hospital for treatment — both physical and psychological. I recall how powerless I felt not knowing how to help someone I love so dearly who no longer wanted life.
I too suffered from depression and suicidal ideation. I spent many years working through why I didn’t want to live despite having so much and, from the outside looking in, seeming to be so accomplished. Powerful reminders right in front of me reflecting back the choices each of us have made.
Grave site for as far as the eye can see in all directions
The best estimates are that there are hundreds of thousands of people buried here. Too many to count. The 4,000 mausoleums alone can contain six or eight per building. And then there’s the three stories of crypts that run about a mile on just one side of the cemetery with numbered crypts and urns from floor to ceiling. It’s a lot.
When I decided to visit La Chacarita Cemetery, I was primarily going for a nice long walk from my hotel. Little did I know that I would be in such deep reflection about life’s impermanence. Sometimes, life throws me a wildcard and I simply accept it “as is” and allow the insights and messages to flow. Today was one of those days.
From this vantage point, all of my “challenges” seem so trivial. I leave here today with a deeper sense of meaning and purpose. I am urged to lean into my abilities as a servant leader and support as many people as I can while I’m still above ground. This is a healthy reflection and reminds me that I still have a lot left to contribute in whatever time I have remaining on this earth.
As I exit La Chacarita, I’m greeted with a bounty of oranges
In just about every country that I’ve visited, I’ve had the pleasure of eating some sort of fruit. It started with blackberries when hiking. Peaked in Greece when we discovered an abundance of pomegranate trees. And I’ve had everything in between. Today I’m presented with oranges so ripe they are falling from their trees. When I take them home, however, they turn out to be the bitter kind. My family knows what I’m talking about. We bought this variety when we were in Japan and hungering for the oranges we get in our grocery story. Instead of the sweet kind, these oranges taste like lemons hiding inside of a bright orange peel cloak. But hey, at least they are full of seeds … like more than 30 seeds in total, or at least 4 per individual orange wedge.
Just because the fruit is fresh off the tree, doesn’t mean it tastes very good. Perhaps this is why there was such an abundance available. People like me have already tried them and agree that they aren’t very tasty after all. Oh well. It was worth taking a few back to my hotel and trying them. It certainly could have been amazing (and worth taking with me). The bitter taste reminds me to never take for granted the incredible selection of fruit we have available to us at home.
