March 26, 2016

Funeral

In this post, I (Heather / Erica) want to share an emotion I experienced recently which surprised me, having to do with tourists here in Chichi.  It was at a funeral for a man in our church, Alejandro, who died unexpectedly this week in a car accident.  His wife is my friend Lesvi, one of the Sunday School teachers at our church, and his young daughters are friends with Veronica.  My daughters and I went to a memorial service for him on Thursday at his parents' house, and I cried with his wife and other family members.  Then on Friday, we went to a burial service which started at his house in town.  After a short sermon by our pastor, six big men carried the casket on their shoulders on the main road through town to the cemetery, followed by a hundred local people and my daughters and I who were walking down the main road, kind of like a parade through town for a couple of miles.
The casket is up ahead,
in the middle of the street.
Entering the cemetery.
We walked up into the back part
of the cemetery, where they buried
Alejandro inside one of the brightly
painted buildings.
On the way through the cemetery, we
walked by some people practicing the Mayan
traditional religion who were burning incense
to their ancestors, or to scare the evil spirits
away from their ancestors.  Tending incense fires
is a common sight here.
The funeral took place on market day so there were several tourists in town, mostly from the United States and Europe.  The emotion that surprised me came as we were walking through town, when I saw the tourists interestedly watching the funeral procession.  I started crying when I saw them, upset by their unattached interest in a Mayan funeral proceeding.   I admit that I have also watched many funeral processions here myself, similiarly interested because it is an unusual sight to see.  But this time the man in the casket was my friend, and the family walking beside and behind the casket were my church members and friends!

Certainly the tourists were not at fault in any way.  I even admit that my daughters and I looked out of place ourselves as we walked with the local people, but they accept us being here and have made us feel welcome.  Over the five years we have lived here, even though the culture is very different than ours in many ways, I have learned that the people are really just like us underneath the different customs, thought processes, and education levels.  I love them!