Funeral Services and Stuff

Hello all,

I must apologize for my lack of posting. A lot has been going on, yet I often find myself with not doing a lot. I’m living in Africa and that is like super cool, but at the same time I’m thinking, why would people at home want to know that today I went to school, I supervised kids, and then I came home hung around my host families house, rinsed and repeated? I keep thinking to myself that I need to wait for something interesting to happen to write a post but then I think that maybe what I now see as day to day life is actually really interesting to the outside world. So please bear with me as I try to find a happy medium of interesting things to write to you all.

So continuing with the somber note of the previous blog post, two weeks ago I was able to witness my first full funeral. An extended family member of my host family passed away and the funeral was held here in the village. I was very surprised as to how similar the ritual of burying the dead was to what many of us experience in the United States. There were, not shockingly, some differences though. Many of the wakes were in the evening after dark (this could be traditional, logistical, or just because it is too fricken hot out when the sun is in the sky). While funeral wakes in the US I would say are a more personal experience (you go on your own time, visit the body if you want, say your greetings to whom you wish, and so on) here it is much more communal. Friends, family, and other community members gather outside the family house (no there is not a funeral home in the village) and a three hour service begins where there are sermons which lasted just as long or even longer than what I experience on Easter at the Romanian Orthodox Church on 8 Mile, songs are sung at least 5 times each (whenever there was an awkward length of silence someone would just start singing the first church song that came to mind I think), and a few people volunteered to speak. The family members then cook a meal (generally of some kind of stew and rice) and serve it to the guests. Not too different, but painstakingly long since everything was in Afrikaans and it started about an hour past my bed time.

The actual funeral consists of at least 24 hours. It begins a little before midnight, when guests arrive back at the family house and hold a service from midnight to 6am. From what I was told it is to honor the deceased person either by staying up all night, or singing for six hours, I am not certain – I skipped this part. Mostly because I valued my sleep schedule which has been hard to keep and also because at the previous wake I was “with the family” so I arrived early and left late with them and felt awkwardly out of place the whole time as they all spent time with each other as a family should in a time of grief. So anyway, the overnight wake ended at 6am and the family then has two hours to prepare for the day of the burial which begins at 8am. Everyone once again meets at the house and there is a short one hour service there where everyone (outside of immediate family I think) gets their first and only glance at the body. The casket is closed and then follows a church service. One interesting thing I noted was that every movement of the casket was done by different members of the family. From the house to the car, from the car to the door of the church, from the door to the altar, from the altar to the door, from the door to the car, from the car to the plot. One group was sons, another was daughters, then brothers, then sisters, aunts, church elders, anyone close to the deceased. I thought it was interesting giving everyone a part of the ceremony.

Another really interesting part of funerals was that the family actually digs the hole, lowers the casket, and fills the hole. I’m pretty sure that in most parts of the State’s at least the parts I am familiar with have the workers of the cemetery dig and fill the hole. To me it’s a deeply emotional action, digging the hole that you will bury your sister or mother in for 2 or 3 days. And then after  a whole day of sorrow and grief, picking up a shovel with your brothers and uncles, and nephews, and sons and burying your loved one in your dress clothes. I couldn’t imagine it. I am not sure if it is a traditional way they have been doing it for decades or a way of respect but its something commendable.

So yeah, then everyone goes and eats and is jolly. This was another instance where I decided to be taken home early. In my experiences with funerals its only the really close family and friends that goes to eat after the funeral service and I did not want to be awkwardly out of place there. However about 5 hours later for the after party I had 3 uncles banging down my bedroom door in my host moms house telling me I had to go to the house with them for the after party. We then dined on goat stew, porridge, and fat cakes with shredded coconut. It was delic. More details on the goat follow in the next blog post. J