When we were asked if we wanted to go to the funeral, Ally
replied with, “Will we see the dead body?� And for some reason, I asked, “Will
there be food?�
From what we understood, it would be more like a celebration.
We wouldn’t be seeing a dead body and we’d have porridge to eat.
We rode about an hour in a tuk-tuk down bumpy roads. We
turned down a dirt road and heard the loud singing voice a mile away. When we
drove up, we found out how much of a celebration it really was.
Everyone wore black pants and a white shirt. Of course we didn’t because we don’t have those kinds of clothes on the Race. There were
tons of people, everywhere. They were all smiling and so happy when we arrived.
There were tons round tables in the front yard for people to
sit, eat and drink. There was a place for people to go pray, monks we sitting
in the front facing the people praying, eating.
Our mourning face at the funeral.
Each table had glasses, an ice bucket, juice, tea, a bowl of
porridge, and a plate with items to add to the porridge (sprouts, hot sauce,
limes, etc). We were ushered through the crowd of smiles to go sit down at
tables in the back of the yard. Everyone was watching us, staring at us as we
walked.
We were actually quite confused, especially since in American
funerals would never be like this. After we sat down, we began to ask questions
about why it was a celebration. At a Buddhist funeral, the first day is for
mourning and the seventh is a celebration. I’m not sure about the days in
between. So, we had made it just in time for the party.
Those who were a part of the family wore all white for
mourning as well as a sash so people would recognize them.
The food was pretty good. The porridge had all kinds of
mystery meat in it, but it was endless. Right when I wondered about dessert, it
came out. A plate of bananas, cookies, and some other kind of sticky rice stuff
I didn’t like. Then they brought a type of salad out to us. By then we were too
full to continue to eat.
In the middle of our meal/celebration, another guy got on the
microphone and began to pray. He didn’t stop the rest of the
time we were there. I don’t know when he did. I was
wondering what he had so much to pray about.
The Khmer guys who came with us from our church were busy
making rings, necklaces, and bracelets from palm tree leaves for us. They’d
come over and slip the rings on our fingers throughout the night.
One man wouldn’t leave our side the whole night. He wasn’t
dressed in black and white, so I’m not sure if he was really supposed to be
there. But, when Sam began taking pictures he insisted that she got up and took
a picture of a table of men. He made the men stand up around the table, they
didn’t like at the camera, just stood there until he flash went off… What a
keeper.
My experience at the funeral was definitely something to
remember. We laughed a lot, which wasn’t something we expected, but when
everyone else around us was celebrating and laughing, we joined in too.
