I obviously didn't take any photos of the funeral or the things leading up to it, so I'm going to fill this post with pictures of Gagi as I remember him.
Romanians have a huge number of rites and traditions around death. It's probably obvious already from what's on this blog, but Romanian culture is in a lot of ways very fatalistic and often grim. This is a country that has never had it easy, from pre-Roman times to the present, and their attitude seems to be mostly "Life is often short and full of pain, people with power will screw you any way they can, so take what joy you can and don't get too bent out of shape when a bunch of bad things happen to you." Ioana tells me that in the old tradition people cry at a birth and laugh at a funeral, because you pity babies being born into this world of pain and are happy when your friends escape it. To me, raised in a country where it's considered, like, unpatriotic not to be optimistic all the time -- a country that often elects presidents based on how hope-and-change, morning-in-America they are -- this is odd. And sobering.
But because it's an old country, and a deeply religious country, and above all a very superstitious country, I keep running into new traditions related to death. You're supposed to tell jokes the night before the funeral (a hold-over from the "laugh at a funeral" thing). Men stop shaving for 40 days. You can't clink drinking glasses for a week, you have to instead say a ritual phrase about God and then pour out part of your drink for the dead. There's a special "hello" you use to people when you're at the church for a funeral. The deceased's family is supposed to give away food, and as many of the deceased's possessions as possible. If you accept them you have to eat or use them, because that lets the dead person have use of them in the afterlife -- throwing them away is a terrible sin. I keep running into new traditions throughout the day. Today Io said we needed to do laundry, and I said "Let's do it tomorrow," and she told me that when someone dies you can't do laundry on the same weekday of their death for a year, so tomorrow's out because it's a Thursday.
I was trying to think whether we have the same number of traditions in America. I can't really think of a single one, but it may be because I'm too close to the culture.
On Monday there was a viewing of the body at the monastery where Gagi was to be buried. The viewing was done in a small chapel on the outskirts of the monastery. The men stand silent vigil over the casket, sometimes for hours at a time. The women talk directly to the deceased, telling him how they feel and remembering his life. In the old-country tradition, they wail their grief at the top of their voice, but it seems like only the baby-boomer generation does that now, with people my age or my parents' age simply talking to their loved one in a quiet voice. As much as it can be disturbing to someone not raised with it, the wailing is actually very cathartic. There's no way to maintain your composure when Grandma Negru is broken and wailing about her loss at the side of the coffin, and in a way that helps everyone process what's happened and get some feelings out. I know I cried a bunch, and I didn't even know him that long.
The family provides food to everyone who comes, and again there's a ritual phrase when you accept and you can't throw it away. It's also considered bad manners not to have some of the food and drink. There are ritual candles and the deceased holds onto a cross. Ioana told me that traditionally you slip a coin into his hand to pay the boatman at the River Styx. Orthodox priests consider that a pagan ritual and discourage it, but everyone still does it.
One thing that is very different from America is that Romanians do not have the same taboo about dead bodies that we do. People routinely kiss the body, hold his hand, stroke his face, and so on.
The next day was the funeral. There's another viewing session of several hours, this time in the main church. Again, the men stand silent vigil (for hours, if they are close family) and the women speak to the deceased. Mourners bring V-shaped flower arrangements called "crowns" that have a banner across them with the mourners' names and a message ("We will never forget you," "Eternal regret," etc.). Other bunches of flowers are heaped into the coffin with the deceased. Towels are symbolic, for reasons I didn't learn. There's a large cross at the head of the coffin and it gets a towel wrapped around it -- just a regular towel, like a hand towel or dish towel (but brand new). Pallbearers are also given towels. Male mourners are given a ceremonial candle, a handkerchief, and a small bag of food (a traditional bread and an apple was in mine, but I don't know if they're all like that). All the mourners get a piece of black ribbon pinned to their clothes, which reminded me of the flowers we all got pinned on when I was here for my wedding.
There were an amazing number of people there. Gagi was well-loved by lots and lots of people. Not just his immediate family, but extended family, his ex-coworkers from the factory that he retired from many years ago, Tania's co-workers and boss, more people than I could possibly keep track of.
After several hours the priest and his singer arrive, and there's a long reading that is chanted and sung. As it nears the end everyone has to hold onto the hand or clothing of the people around them, forming a giant human chain, and you sway your hands up and down. The priest blesses several ceremonial breads and pours ritual wine on them. Ceremonial candles are lit. Everyone gets in a line and files past the coffin, kissing the deceased's face, his hand, and a religious icon put in the coffin. Afterwards, pallbearers then take the coffin out to the churchyard, where there is more chanting and singing. A relative takes a bag of coins and scatters handful after handful, which the mourners pick up.
The pallbearers then take the coffin to the grave-site, accompanied by the mournful tolling of the church bell. Everyone follows along. At the grave there's more chanting and singing, the priest makes a cross on the deceased's chest with wine and then with what I think was myrrh. There's another human chain. The coffin is then sealed and lowered into the grave, and relatives each throw a handful of dirt in, and the deceased is buried. Everyone gets a serving of coliva, a special boiled-grains-and-sugar mash that is only made at funerals. From start to finish it was about 5 1/2 hours.
After the funeral there's a dinner. We had ours at a local restaurant. The food is limitless and it's an open bar, and pretty much everyone from the funeral goes. It must have cost Tania a fortune. People at the dinner seem to naturally keep in good spirits. They tell good stories about the deceased, but much of the time is just spent chatting over dinner about things unrelated to the funeral. It's sort of a time to transition back to normal life, I think, although for the immediate family obviously that is going to take a long time.
And then the dinner's over and you go home, and that's it. Women wear black veils or ribbons in their hair for I'm not sure how long, and like I said before men don't shave for 40 days.
This blog isn't about throwing my emotions on an unsuspecting public, but I will say that the whole thing affected me a lot. Much more than I expected. I've only experienced one other death of someone close to me (my paternal grandfather, when I was 15). I have trouble adjusting to the idea that Gagi is gone. I knew I'd be sympathetically upset for Io and Tania, but I'm actually pretty upset even for myself. Gagi and I didn't know each other for very long, and even though we lived together in a tiny condo for six months it was hard to really get to know each other because we had so little common language, so everything had to be translated. Even so, I feel like I got a real sense of who he is and where he came from, what he had been through and how much he affected those around him. Any of us would count ourselves lucky to be as deeply loved by as many people as he was.
No comments:
Post a Comment