Death

7/16/09

I saw my first dead person ever, and it was in Thailand. In my experience, I’ve attended several memorial services and funerals, but never a wake, so I’ve never actually seen a body until today. It was a normal day at school with a really tough back to back 3 hours with the 6-8 year olds and then afternoon classes. I finished around 2:30 and when I exited my classroom 15 minutes later after erasing the board and cleaning, the Sanamklee schoolyard was deserted. All the kids were gone, the teachers’ cars and motorcycles missing. I called MaReam and she thought I had left with Nhaca. Someone in the village died and everyone was at the temple. Thais never ever wear black unless in mourning. I was wearing white, which apparently is the other appropriate color (thank goodness!). She sped over to the school (because although one can walk to the temple in less than 5 minutes, everyone drives EVERYWHERE). I really really had to pee because I try not to go at school on the squat toilet that is especially small for all the little kids. Bladder bursting, I begged MaReam to help me find a bathroom at the temple. [This was Thursday which means “weekend market” at most temples. Vendors of all kinds(t-shirts, shoes, sweets, famers and their produce) set up in this huge street-festival-esque market. It seemed strange to have this while a funeral was going on]. Some kind monks showed me the way and it was a squat toilet after all! Arg.

Feeling “worth-it” relief, I emerged from the bathroom and looked upon the scene of about 300 people outside the temple-nearly everyone who lived in Sanamklee (the village) and their kids. All my schoolkids were there, smiling and sipping on sweet fruity drinks in the intense heat. In fact, everyone was smiling. It seemed really bizarre to me that we were at a funeral. Walking in a single wave of folk after MaReam gave the signal to “bye” aka go, I slowly climbed the temple stairs armed with a paper flower and what look like sparklers that you light. I saw the tightly clasped hands of the older gentlemen around some roses, stiff as stone. My curiosity got the best of me and I peered in at his face, weathered skin and closed eyes looked at peace. We walked by in droves and one woman was holding a large portrait of him looking stately. The family stood at the bottom of the stairs receiving people and handing out commemorative pins. The entire thing took 5 minutes and everyone was back to the market, buying, socializing, and laughing. It seemed so odd to me. This was how someone was remembered?

Buddhist tradition is very different than the way I grew up mourning in Christian and Jewish ways. People are still sad, although not expressively crying that I saw. The whole Thai attitude about death may have seemed nonchalant to my eyes, but it fits with their theology. I talked to Supa more about reincarnation and she said that although death is sad, it is unpredictable and Thais are comforted by knowing that their soul will find a new host even after their body is cremated. She said “I know there’s a tomorrow”….