(not) A fair well farewell
So, I mentioned in a previous story that a good, nice and cheerful old lady died. Today was her funeral and, although I don’t know much about the procedures and customs from japanese funerals, I did got some good insight from a quite unexpected site, so I wasn’t exactly unprepared.
Also, I came from a Shintoist family, so I also had some idea of what to expect. Still, knowing it is quite different from actually living it. For my luck, some nice ladies from the factory that was close to her went along to show the way to the ceremony place, also to guide through the processes.
Basically at the reception desk you are told to write your information such as phone, name, address and whatnot. Since I can read a little japanese but my writing skills of kanji is close to none, I’ve just wrote my cellphone number and my name. Then you can give the 御霊前(goreizen) a money offering for the funeral expenses. If you visit the unusual website that talk about funeral customs, you ought to get more info. As exchange you receive a piece of paper to trade at the end for a small gift as a token of gratitude for your offering.
After that we went to the second floor, a big hall like the one in the picture above was waiting. From each side was the family, on the center was the priest (I believe it was a Shinto priest) chanting. Meanwhile the visitors stayed all the way back to light the incense, two by two.
First, you bow to the priest (although he got his back turned to you, chanting directly to the coffin), then to the members of the family to your right. At last you bow to the members to your left.
In my case it wasn’t incense, but ashes. So, like the website and the nice lady on my right that I was following, I used (like she did) my index finger and thumb to grab a small amount of ash, raise to my forehead, and put inside the incense bowl. Did that 3 times. Put both hands together and made a small pray for me and some friends that couldn’t attend. Then, again, you bow to the priest, to the right, to the left, than give a step back without turning, and we went to the 3rd floor.
Tables and food were set, you eat standing and there’re drinks. Juice, tea and beer. You choose, but you CAN’T serve yourself, so someone has to actually serve the drink to you. I’ve eaten some sushi and a harumaki then went down stairs again. There were chairs all the way to the back were we waited the monk tell us a story.
Couldn’t understand much, but for what I got it was about religion, beliefs and how Japan started to think about their own religion and the rest of the world’s that was brought by explorers. Nice way to keep history alive I think, if my japanese was actually much better, it would’ve been much more interesting, since he mentioned the Tokugawa era.
After the monk is done, you put your hands together, bow and close your eyes. An announcer says when the monk leave and you can open your eyes, raise and it’s time for the visitors talk to the family and go to the coffin say your last farewell.
I know people make the dead look peaceful and beautiful, and that really makes a difference. They all look like resting. Still… funerals are for the living. It’s our way to say goodbyes. And in that moment, I felt really sad.
It’s not unusual in Japan, if you work in factories or even convenience stores, to work with vietnamese. At the factory I work in (until I finish serving my notice) there’re only vietnamese girls. One of them is a dear friend and, although she was close to the old lady, she said that probably they weren’t allowed to go since they knew little of japanese culture. Still, she asked me to send some prayers on her behalf, that I did. For all that couldn’t attend the funeral.
But, it was strange. I was the only foreigner there. It made me kinda (or even more) sad seeing that, she was one of the few japanese that was so cheerful and friendly with the factory foreigners, and I was the only one to attend.
Of course I couldn’t blame them. Most had to work, a few were shy for not knowing the funeral proceedings, and I do believe (or rather believe) that they didn’t had any proper clothes. I actually spend nearly all my salary buying a full suit set. Ok, I also needed the suit to job interviews and to work in case I get to work in a office… But still I felt a little of.
I’ve never talked to her that much, but from the little we exchanged words, she was that kind of person that could captivate anyone. That would try really hard to soften a hard day of work.
And I was there. If someone can smile dearly and kindly through a storm, that someone deserve our respect.
After that, we went to the first floor and exchange the paper from the reception desk for the present.
It’s really well made and.. well… very Japanese. It’s amazingly well done and beautiful.
There’s a letter in each package.
The bigger one for the left is two small bottles of green tea, they are actually made of metal (the bottles, not the tea, for anyone intending a pun). And the smaller package for the right, is a small face (or hand, never knew the difference anyways) towel.
All in all, it was quite the experience. Interesting, but I do hope not to attend a funeral anytime soon… My uncle dying, soon this cheerful lady… I mean, I’ve been through a lot of death through my life. I think all of us had… lost friends, close friends, family, colleges… and every time you think it’ll give it a break… it happens. I guess those things can never be to late.
Either way… as long as we remember them, they’ll live forever. Or as the quote from Isabel Allende in her book Eva Luna goes:
There is no death, daughter. People die only when we forget them,’ my mother explained shortly before she left me. ‘If you can remember me, I will be with you always.
Ya know… I really think life could’ve bring me some better birthday presents… Like… I don’t know, something like: “Hey, you wanted a wife, here she is, time to get married” or later “So, you gotta a happiness boost there, fella, your wife is pregnant. That’s right, you’re having a baby!”.
Damn… I could even go for “You won the market lottery! Here’s your ginormous bag of apple!”.
But losing two close persons like that. Now THAT ain’t right, life… shame on you. And shame on my to be such depressive bastard.
Depressive bastard, an idiot, with a shitty memory for daily stuff. But I’ve gotta a badass memory to carry all those good moments with everyone that crossed my path. Those, my dear cynical life, I’ll carry with me to the end of my days.
