They said she died around 1 in the afternoon. But nobody really seemed sad. At least, in the ways I'm used to seeing people sad. Her own daughter seemed relieved, actually. She was 80, bedridden for a year. They hired a maid to take care of her. It's sad to see her now, sprawled out on the living room floor, with her shocking white hair, so still. They clear out all the random junk around the edges of the house (wash tubs, rusty tools, a cell phone company sign, a cabinet), to make room for the party, or so I thought. I find out later, it's actually to encourage her spirit to leave. When it's ready to.
They entomb her body in a wedding cake-like multi-tiered shrine of sorts. That night, the neighbors come by to pay their respects, drop by gifts to her daughter by the shrine, eat papaya salad and fish stew, play cards. They gamble, $1 a hand, in some very simple games that I've never seen anybody play for money. But they're having a blast. I realize, the games aren't about money, or the individual winning. It's about community. There is a DVD of a crass comedian playing on a TV, lots of beer flowing, people talking and laughing and having a great time. All night. The guests leave sometime during the night, but family members don’t sleep. I thought, they're just being good hosts. But it's actually to keep grandma's spirit company.
The family closes their restaurant for a whole week. They stay outside, eating + drinking for 4 consecutive days and nights. On the 5th day, at 1pm (the same time she died) they hold the funeral service. Monks come to the house to pray over the body. They take the body to the local temple.
At the temple, they reassemble the shrine carefully. The women in the family dress in white robes, the men shave their heads and put on bright saffron monk robes. Nobody cries. Grandma's spirits shouldn't see you sad. It might make her sad. And if you make her sad, she might hurt you. Then, the guests line up to place 3 things: a flower, some coconut concoction wrapped in banana leaf, and a stick of incense, on the funeral pyre. "Aren't you going to put some on, too?" someone asks. So I do.
A random guy unceremoniously begins to douse the pyre with gasoline. Then, FOOSH! a relative lights a bottle rocket + it thunks into the pyre. First a cloud of yellow incense dust, which quickly turns into a roaring blaze that cremates grandma's body. Someone starts to throw rice (I'm not sure why) and people scramble to grab it, like it's pinata candy. The pyre is still burning as people start to leave, covering their mouths to keep the ashes out. Later, her remains are placed in a box that goes into a "spirit house."
As they leave the temple, the guests wash their hands in a tub of water with floating orange flowers. To wash off any spirits that you might've picked up at the temple. Later that night, I see an ornate golden bed in the living room. It's for grandma's spirit, they tell me. She still hasn't left yet.
On the 7th day after her death, the monks come by again and say a final prayer. And grandma's spirit is finally sent off to the next world, in a state of limbo until her next reincarnation.
Last night, I saw my neighbors loading into their car late at night. "Where you guys goin?" I ask. They were taking food + clothes for grandma's spirit. Her spirit is at the temple now, apparently. She's dead, but she's not gone. She's still there. In a way, she'll never really leave.
