Some people would say that death is the same no matter where
you go; people die and their loved ones grieve… these things are the same
regardless of the culture. That’s
not true, though. I’ve read that
among the Navajo people, once a person dies they’re never to be spoken of again
– speaking of them could bring about something likened unto bad juju…so outward
grief is purposefully stifled.
Some tribes in New Guinea mummify their dead and keep them as guardians
over their homes and families; their mourning turns to joy as they remember
they have a new ancestor to keep them safe.
Saturday we attended our first
funeral here in Ecuador. A
15-year-old boy tragically died while he was out walking to play guitar at a
rural church service. Among his
friends and family walking along the street, he was the only one struck and it
seems that he died almost instantly.
While this was absolutely horrific for his loved ones (there are many),
and very sad for us, it showed me that our differences in culture extend to how
we deal with death as well.
In
the USA, grief is so very cushioned. It’s tucked away and softened, the
process slowed so people have time to get their wits about them, but in the
process grief is actually extended and we feel its effects far longer than we
want to. Normally a funeral comes
about 3-4 days after the death, but I’ve seen a week or two pass when the
circumstances prohibit it from happening sooner. Of course, people have to procure the casket, the vault, the
burial plot, the funeral home…so many details! And why??? At a time when we are most vulnerable, when we
feel as if we’ve lost everything, we must make arrangements and spend thousands
of dollars for something that was out of our control. So we slow things down,
we think, we pat each other on the back and cry tears in our closets so we
don’t “lose it” in front of everyone.
This sweet sweet boy, Yolaus, was
killed on Friday night. His
“velario,” or wake/visitation, was the next morning at 11am, and he was put to rest
at 5:00. Not even 24 hours passed between
his death and his interment. Grief
and death seem to smack you in the face here, there is no escape, you must face
it head on. The municipality
provides the decorations (enormous aluminum candelabra with fluorescent lights
where candles would be, among other lighting – I’m not sure about the casket),
and will provide the place for the service if you have none of your own – which
greatly simplifies all that the grieving family has to do. After the service, the casket was
placed in the back of a pick-up truck, and the entire attendance of the funeral
followed behind on foot to the cemetery through the city of Puyo (the biggest
city in our province of Pastaza).
This was about a 2 mile walk (before vehicles they would have used a
wooden cart, or carried it by hand).
Once at the cemetery we saw that
there are basically large concrete walls that have casket-sized holes in
them. There is no “family plot”
(unless you want to buy your own special wall or mausoleum), the caskets are
blocked in by order of death. As
they slid this boy’s casket into his slot, there was loud wailing and sobbing
all around, and they took cinder blocks, closed the opening, and cemented him
in. There was no tip-toeing around
the fact that a death happened, in fact, there was no softening it. In the states, the graveyard crew
always waits until the last people are gone from the cemetery before covering
the casket with dirt. We want as
little to do with reality as possible, so we avoid seeing the inevitable – our
loved ones in the ground. Here it
was unavoidable, the deal was sealed, and the family knew it along with
everyone else.
It’s hard for me to say if either
our American or the Ecuadorian way of approaching death is better – we deal
with grief individually in the long term, so I guess the end result is up to
us. But I will say that sometimes
raw emotion, like we witnessed Saturday, can heal in a way that hiding our
grief cannot – we are forced to face reality, to lay ourselves bare before God
and man, and weep because death was not part of God’s original perfect
plan. When Lazarus died, Jesus
wept! Death hurts! But, praise God he made a way for us to have eternal life in Jesus Christ! There is a
hope we have in Jesus, and in our grief we can rejoice…
Please pray for the family and
friends of Edgar “Yolaus” Sanchez – he was a wonderful young man, and servant
of God. His passing has left a
hole in the lives of many, and in our church as well. He is rejoicing with our Savior now, and for that we give
thanks!!!
