Last Wednesday did not go as planned. Days rarely go as planned here, but it’s usually little things, small interruptions that surprise you. But on a small island, death is a big interruption.
Our house helper, Abdul came in that morning telling us that his father-in-law was very sick. Later that day he received a phone call telling him that his father-in-law had passed. In this culture it is important to bury the dead quickly, so with a few words he was out the door and on his way to his village.
Megan spread the word to our teammates and Tom and Sergio decided the cultural thing to do would be to attend the funeral. So we dressed in our traditional clothes, found a taxi and headed toward Abdul’s village. It took us a while to get there, but soon we found the right town.
On the island, with the exception of the capital, almost everything stops for a funeral. It is a community event. Life stops for everyone. How different from our culture where life only seems to stop for those most effected by the death. Here, everyone is expected to attend.
Around the house were all the men of the town, and taxis kept coming dropping off more men, most likely coming in from the city like us. The women met behind the house where they mourned and sang. I have never attended a funeral before, so I was surprised when they ushered us into the room with the body before we could find Abdul. The dead man lay under a white sheet while a young man seated nearby chanted prayers. We weren’t sure what to do, so we offered a prayer. That seemed to be acceptable. What followed was a long time of waiting for others to arrive and visit the body.
Finally, near dusk, the body was carried down the middle of the street in a simple coffin covered with ornate cloth. The body was taken to the house of worship where prayers were said. Sergio and I waited outside. Then the body was carried to the cemetery. We watched as they placed the body in the hole (removing the coffin) and then filled in the burial site first with banana leaves and then with dirt. In less than 12 hours the old man had been put into the ground.
Striking to me was the stoic nature of the service. Among the men, no one seemed to mourn. I saw no tears. The only one affected by it appeared to be a small boy. Later we discovered it was Abdul’s young son who was watching his grandfather being put in the ground. I can’t help but wonder if the way of things here is connected to a lack of hope. Islanders will tell you that no one can know if they will go to heaven. It’s all in the scales, and even a good man, if he should fail to do right at the last minute, may be condemned. Why mourn what you cannot control? The more I thought about it, the sadder I became. If only the old man could have known God’s love. There are many old men and women here. What is going to happen to them? Who will rescue them?
PRAYER ANSWERED
It was good to attend the funeral and it has deepened our friendship with our house helper. The infection in Megan’s incision is completely gone and she is doing much better in regard to that. Our friend Ankili arrived back on the island safely. We were also surprised by the arrival of another friend, Fundi, who is one of our brothers here. Tom and Chris taught their first prison class this morning. It went well—more than 40 students!
PRAYERS REQUESTED
Although Megan’s incision has healed, she has been very sick with what looks like Dengue Fever. She has had high fever and headaches. It appears the sickness may have run its course and that she is on the mend, but please pray for her full recovery. Pray for our friendships and for our students and for opportunities to share the things that are important to us. Pray for political stability and peace as next week could be a time of uncertainty and unrest here.
