Funerals

It seems that there is at least one funeral in the village every weekend here in South Africa. Unlike in the U.S., SA funerals are community affairs to which everyone is invited regardless if you know the person and /or the family. We got to experience our first funeral during the second week with our host family. The funeral was for one of the host mother of one of Peace Corps Trainees in our language group. Unfortunately, the mother of her host family died shortly after she moved in, and the trainee had to be moved to another family. Although some of us were feeling uncomfortable about attending a funeral so soon after we had moved to Bundu and for someone we had never met, our language instructor assured us that it was culturally the right thing to do to show our support and respect for the family. Most funerals are held on the weekend allowing family and friends travel time to the location. Therefore, early on our second Saturday in Bundu, we got up bright and early and made our way to the house of the deceased where the grieving family had been up all night praying and singing in the garage with the casket. There were probably 100 people already congregated around the house with more arriving after us. We stood in a large group on the lawn listening to songs and words from a preacher before joining the procession to the cemetery lead by the car carrying the casket. People jumped into overflowing cars and the beds of trucks while many of us walked the 15 – 20 minutes to the village cemetery. Once there we all stood around the plot (we couldn’t see much as we were towards the back) singing and listening to the preacher talk while the casket was lowered and buried. Much like the church services, the singing is organic, lead by anyone inspired to start a song. As one song ends, a new voice takes the lead with everyone else joining in. In the cool morning air with the beautiful voices and bodies swaying to the soulful music, it is easy to forget the reason for the gathering. Then it hits you like a splash of cold water in the face. From the center of the crowd a large, wailing woman is carried out to the road, overcome with grief. We later learned that this was the eldest daughter of the deceased woman. After about 1 ½ hours, the crowd walked or drove back to the family house where traditional food was being served buffet style on the lawn. Traditionally this meal was prepared by the grieving family, but in recent years funeral societies (families pay a monthly fee to join) have cropped up all over in order to handle the burial logistics, food and clean-up.