Entierro

We've almost seen it all here in Bolivia. Of the major life events, all we are missing is a wedding. The past two days, we have been able to see what happens in a funeral. I got a text on Monday as I was coming home from class that our goddaughter's grandfather had died. It was quite a shock, although I had never really had a conversation with him. I had helped kick him out of Church the previous day because he was drunk and was yelling at his wife to come out of the service so he could beat her. I guess the shock of how precious life can be was what got me. Needless to say, I still love that family, so I ran home as quickly as possible. I arrived and walked into a few family members, friends, and neighbors around a dead body on a plank of wood covered in a blanket. Family members around the country were still being alerted to the news, and flowers and candles began to surround the body.

This was an interesting experience also because half of the family is Protestant, and the other half Catholic. So, there was a constant conflict of how to go about things. The man who died had committed his life to Christ, but had a very hard time kicking his habits with alcohol. Not only was the family divided among religious/traditional lines, but also the death was a surprise. The man had hung himself. He was old, but in good health. There are several speculations as to why he hung himself, most of them having to do with his battle with alcohol. He had just spent the past 3 days drunk, going to baptisms, birthdays, and kept himself drunk in the in-betweens. When he showed up to Church on Sunday, he wanted his wife out because he thought that she want to Church to kiss other men. He was jealous. We think he had made up some exaggerated story in his drunken state and couldn't live anymore with it.

The complications with the death didn't end there, the family had taken the body out of the tree were he hung himself. They didn't call the police, and since the body was moved, an investigation would have to be done to receive a death certificate. With an investigation, it is almost certain that the police will suspect someone had a part in his death, particularly because they had moved the body. Without the police report, they couldn't get a death certificate. So, it was decided that he would be buried somewhere in the campo. This was decided also for reasons of costs. I didn't realize how expensive funerals can be, even in Bolivia.

So, the night of the death is a wake. The family began arguing on how they were going to pass this time honoring Catholic or Protestant beliefs. The decision was made that each person would make his own decision. So, there were very sober people others who were a bit tipsy the whole time. We stayed at the wake until about 11:30 then went home. More family members were to arrive in the night.

Yesterday, I got out of school at midday to go to the funeral. They still didn't know where or when it would take place, since it was going to be illegal, they had to find a good place for the body. We arrived at the house around 2:30 in the afternoon to find many changes. Now, there were about 40 people dressed in black, and an elaborate purple pillar light set up with the crucifix around the coffin. Wailing women would go in and out of the room. They had spent the whole night wailing and weeping, not sleeping, and several drinking. Somehow, a death certificate had been obtained, and we were to leave at 3 to bury the body. The trufi arrived, and we all piled in. We were taken way out in the campo past the houses to a mountain side. It was beautiful with a lovely view of the mountains and city. But as soon as we arrived, a family argument began. We got off the bus, and all hiked up the hill. The hole was already half-way dug, but the ground was extremely rocky. The family was concerned that they wouldn't be able to visit the grave because it was so far out of the way of anything. So, we all stood around for about 30 minutes while the family argued if they would bury the body there or not. No one had gone to see the site earlier in the day, so no one had any idea that it would be like this. They finally decided that this place would not do. It was already nearly 5 at this point. The sun would be setting soon, and we had to bury this body before dark.

We all got into the trufi again and were told we were going to the cemetery in Sacaba. An hour later, we realized we had long ago passed Sacaba and were now in a similar situation. We had passed the houses, all public transportation, and any other sign of life. We were, once again, on the side of the mountain. Once again, we all got out of the trufi, and hiked up a little ways. This time, at least there were a few other graves there. So, the men began digging the hole as we sat around and passed the time. Someone asked for a knife. We were confused and asked why they needed a knife. Apparently, the handlebars used for carrying the coffin had to be returned. When the hole was finished, ropes were tied around the coffin, and the coffin was dropped in. There was more wailing, and the Protestants had their singing and prayer, then left. Then, the Catholics had their prayer. Now dark, we all piled into the trufi again to come home. I was exhausted at this point hoping to just go home. But, we had to go back to the house again and eat together. Thankfully, I got a call during that time saying that school was canceled for today due to a transportation strike. Finally, we got home around 9 o'clock.

To me, all these crazy events were to be expected as a Bolivian experience. I didn't even think anything of it until I got home and started thinking about how crazy it really was. I hope we can go to a wedding here, it might be crazy, but it would at least be a happy celebration.