In total I've attended 6 memorial/funeral/burial services in two months. In Namibia, it is the culture to have a memorial service the night before the burial. I say funeral because it is something that we, in America, can relate to. I have attended two burial services for four separate people. I have attended five memorial services for those same people. The first service was for a teacher colleague of mine who passed away at the beginning of school term. At this service, there was another gentlemen who had passed away. I assumed that it was because of funeral costs that it would make sense to have one service for two people at the same time. The second memorial service was more of a challenge to deal with. Two former students of my school passed away after a fight at a bar. My community and school were hit hard. It was hard to even teach that week. I will reserve any further comments out of respect. However, all memorial services followed a similar pattern as I will dictate from the first service.
The memorial service was held on a Friday night in February. When we arrived, we sat under a green tent that was at the front of the house. The family was gathered outside in the circle and I paid my respects to the family. An hour later I went with my principal to the morgue where the body laid. We began the procession to the house and then to the church. I had the honor of being a pall bearer to my colleague. The memorial service was held at 7pm. It roughly lasted about 4-5 hours. What was amazing about this service was that my school choir had sung a few selections while holding candles. They paid tribute through song. This was the most beautiful yet saddest day of my Peace Corps service. After the service was over, we brought the body back to the house. We proceeded to have a wake from 11pm until sunrise. It is culturally appropriate to attend the wake and stay up all night singing and dancing until the sun rises. The body was laid in the house for family and friends to pay respect.
Outside of the house there was more singing, dancing, and music. The pianist played several songs while the guests sung in the local language. After 2 hours of singing and dancing, the family brought out food to be served to guests. They served tea in a tin cup, warm bread, and soup in a styrofoam bowl. It was a cold night so I really enjoyed that. If I had to guess there was about 350 people in attendance. Can you imagine? The family had to feed all 350 guests! It's customary and tradition to feed those who come to a memorial service. The reason behind that is it acknowledges and respect the person's effort to show attend the memorial service. It is also because people are hungry after a 4 hour service. I noticed that the services were very family oriented and emphasized the role of the community. The community really supports those who have lost a loved one(s). It was incredible to see a big family eat together after the service.
In the morning I arose at 630 to be sure to make it to the 7am service. We arrived just in time as the preacher began the message. It lasted about 2 hours. This service is for the last viewing of the body. We walked around the body and paid our last respect. Thereafter we traveled to the burial site which was 5K away. At 10am the burial service began and there was more singing and dancing. The school choir sang beautifully. What was most memorable from this event was that we all got in a line and passed the grave as the casket was lowered. We grabbed a hand full of dirt and threw it in the grave as the gravediggers shoveled dirt into the grave.
For me this was so symbolic as a human being. Death and funerals always remind me of my own humanity and frailty. It was a humbling experience. As I grabbed the dirt, my dirt touched his dirt and I was in solidarity with his life and death. The symbolism is powerful. Of course this may done in the states as well. It all depends on who you ask. But to see 350 people throw dirt into the grave was divine. I remembered that we are just passive creatures moving from womb to tomb trying to find meaning and purpose in this life. I questioned what does it mean to be human? This is the question of the ages. What is it all for? Why am I here? I often think of Plato's Apology where Socrates stated that "the unexamined life is not worth living." Have you ever seen the date of birth and the date of death on a tomb stone? When you think about it, we are just living in the dash!
After the burial service we traveled back to the home of the bereaved. We all sat in a circle and chatted. This was the first time I saw people laugh during the weekend. The somber occasion requires one to be without joy for the time being. We were again served food. I had chicken, potato salad, and carrots with tea. This had to have been the longest funeral I have ever attended too.
Although I did not want to go to these events, I am grateful that I did. I learned so much about the culture, the tradition and the people that I am serving. The San/Bushmen (Hei //om) are a beautiful people. One needs to live among them to understand them. Through these events I continue to understand my purpose in life: to serve others, to serve the least of these, to love justice, to pursue righteousness and defend the poor. To give voice to those who remain silent and name what hurts. I endeavor to live the Matthew 25:34-40 kind of life. If I can borrow a few lines from Mahlia Jackson:
"If I can help somebody as I pass along, if I can cheer somebody with a word or a song, if I can show somebody how their traveling wrong, then my living shall not be in vain."
- E. H. Smith, M. A.
