Two funerals, two days. Too much.

Sorry - this is a long one.  Mostly for my own benefit, so feel free to just look at the pictures and then move on if you prefer...

I have just been to two funerals in two days. One was for my boss I'd known for 4 weeks before she died unexpectedly of an aneurism. The other was for a work colleague's mother who we'd visited last week. Within three days of both deaths they have been sent off in a flurry of fire and ritual, witnessed by hundreds of chatting, relaxed, smiling family and guests.

Part 1

 

The ritual stuff started the morning after Somphanh died. I had to come home to put on a white shirt. Black would do but I had white. The visit to the house soon after the death is important. The actual funeral would be on Sunday.

As we arrived, Somphanh's 20 year old son met us at the gate and smiled and thanked us for coming. He was calm and graceful for a young bloke who'd suddenly lost his mother. I had no idea what to say, certainly not in Lao. I settled for 'hello'.

Family, wreaths, coffin.

We sat around for a while in the front yard. I smiled and nodded at people I'd met. Marquees and plastic chairs had been set up and large wreaths of flowers with signs on them were clustered around the door.  I still had no idea what to say to anyone. I think we were all a bit in shock.

Then I was asked to come up to the front door with my training department colleagues. I could see the coffin and it's gold and white structure, a large formal photo of Somphanh on an easel and her family sitting beside it. That was sad.

They all stood up as we entered. Presenting the wreaths in groups, each department took its turn to stand together while someone made a speech. We then filed past the family, bowing and holding our hands together in front of our chests. They thanked us individually.

My Friday office had to have their turn so I turned back and had another go. Again with the speechifying, the filing past and the thanking.

One more task left: the formal handing-over of the envelope of money. I'd been prepped: I had it ready. Down we went on our knees; envelope in a silver bowl; hold the bowl up to the forehead; present it with a bow (not easy whilst on your knees) to a woman who showed it to the coffin and explained something to the spirit. She thanked me and I sort of crouched-bowed-walked out.

Phew! Stage 1 went without a hitch. No tears. No tripping up over my sinh. No major bungles. No spilling of food on my white shirt.
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On Sunday was the funeral. It was hot (of course) and we were late. It didn't seem to matter except I missed the parade led by a swathe of orange monks and white attendants. No biggie.

There were hundreds there. Somphanh had worked with many people, she was well respected and liked and she and her family obviously knew a lot of people.

Martin came along too. We sat with people I know on plastic chairs under a tree. We were offered bottles of water; a collection plate came past. An icecream man on a bicycle set up and made a killing lot of money selling icy cold sweet things to a hot, sweating, captive crowd. "Entrepreneurial", I thought. Martin thought "Mmmm, Almond Magnum".

Icecreams at a funeral. Love it!

 

There was chanting and praying going on that I couldn't see. We stood up and all sat down again. I followed the crowd. Then we stood up and headed for the coffin. We shuffled through the crowds, collected a paper flower, a candle and an incense stick, placed them on the coffin and said goodbye or good luck or whatever we wanted to say to Somphanh. I thanked her even though I don't believe she heard me.

We did a bit more of the filing past, doing the "wai" thing with our hands together to the family and the women in white. I saw one in tears. Only the one. They all thanked us.

Funeral attendants - women in white: family or close friends.

 

Then we washed our hands in water with petals and leaves. Not sure why but I think it was symbolic of something.

 

Washing hands in flowery water

Next came the photo shoot. Family, friends, monks all holding the photo of Somphanh in front of the coffin in it's elegant and beautiful white and gold structure with a tall spire and hundreds of flowers and candles. Those photos will be majestic. Calm, beautiful, brown faces against  a blue sky and a gleaming gold and white coffin thing.

 The monks having their photo taken with the photo and the coffin

Somphanh's dad, son  and husband having their photo taken with the photo and the coffin

Not showing emotion indicates respect for the dead. Weeping or showing sadness at the loss leads you off the middle path and towards suffering. It's also not very polite to Somphanh or her family. Look at the calm faces on her menfolk. I find it curious, fascinating really. And kind of a relief. Men in tears set me off every time.

Meanwhile everyone else stood around and waited for the fireworks. Literally.

Somphanh's son had joined the temple that day, shaved his head, donned the orange and become a monk for a week or so. It's expected. The length of his stay may depend on his study schedule (he's at uni).

Someone, probably a funeral director or his staff, poured petrol on the coffin, the flowers and all the stuff we'd put there.

The son held up a bunch of flowers with a candle burning in the centre to what I suddenly realised were fireworks rockets on wire strings. The flame took and they flared and fizzed, firing straight into the coffin with a whistle and a squeal and a puff of smoke.

 

Somphanh's son lighting the rockets

 

The fire started to roar.

A roaring fire

 

Then, surprisingly (to me) someone threw lollies into a crowd of waiting kids. Handfuls of menthol flavoured boiled lolly things in wrappers were scattered and the kids swarmed all over the ground to collect them. It took our attention away from the fire but I'm not sure if that was the objective. "And don't the kids love it" (to quote three famous wise men).

Scrambling for lollies.

The wooden structure, the flowers, incense, wreaths, candles and Somphanh's body burned. We went home.

The burning.

 

The next morning I arrived at work and Somphanh's desk had been cleared. I couldn't help but do a tiny cringey double-take. It was a sad and lonely looking desk. When the guys arrived a mumbled speech was made to the wall - or perhaps to Somphanh's spirit - and they moved the desk out. It sat in the corridor all morning looking even more forlorn.

 

Somphanh's desk.

End of Part 1

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Part 2



After the desk-moving ceremony, we headed off to the next funeral. My colleague's mother died on Friday. I kind of knew what to expect this time. So do you. So I'll be briefer this time...

Firstly we visited the house. Luckily, I have two white shirts (thanks, Mum!) so was kitted out appropriately. We were there for about 15 minutes. There were tables of around 100 people sitting around in the front yard. Some were playing bingo and others had a deck of cards in action.

 

Cards at a funeral. Brilliant idea.

 

We then headed for the temple, got a bit lost, visited a couple of empty temples until we found the right one. I was early enough to see the parade of orange and white and the truck with the coffin - looking for all the world like a float in the Bendigo Easter Procession.

A procession of funeral attendants

 

The float

 

The funeral director/event management guys had to disassemble and then reassemble the white and gold structure on site. In that heat and in those yellow jumpers they worked hard for the money.

 

Reassembling

 

Then there was praying and chanting by family and friends and monks. We sat up the back, chatting and drinking cordial and trying to stay out of the sun.

The chanting and praying session

 

 Then we all did the flowers and incense thing and filed past family and friends who thanked us.



Saying goodbye

 Then there was the photo session with monks and family.

Monks in front of the coffin

 

Family in front of mother's/grandmother's coffin.

 

(Note the strategically placed advertising banner for the funeral director's services - on the surrounds all around the coffin. Canny marketing!)

 

Then the extra bits were taken away for recycling.

 

Clearing up before the fire

 

 Petrol was poured (note yellow petrol can)

Great job for a pyromaniac

 

The rockets were lit...

 

Running from the rockets after lighting wicks

More fireworks went off once the rockets hit the structure. Some had whizzy things and whistles and one had streams of yellow smoke. It was quite spectacular.

Yellow smoke

 

 Lollies and rice and possibly even money was thrown and everyone scrambled and laughed (while grandma burned).

Rushing and...

...scrambling.

Then we went home.

 

... Epilogue ...

 



It's not over yet. This morning I gave alms to the monks at Somphanh's house and then ate a Laos banquet before 9am. This all involved a traditional sash, a silver bowl, boxes of Lactasoy, packets of biscuits and overly-handled sticky rice. And I'll be doing it again for the other woman later this week.

 

Sigh. I think it's time for a wedding now. Anyone?