Yesterday, my language teacher was planning to go to a
funeral in Boya. The lady who died was
the wife of her cousin, Nyayo. Here in
Kenya, they always have their burials on Saturday. Sometimes it will be as long as a month after
the person has died until they have the funeral. This lady died in her twenties, due to AIDS,
something that is so common here.
Earlier in the week, I had offered to accompany Rosemary,
thinking that this would be a good time to tag along and immerse myself in the
culture. After she assured me that I
wouldn’t be a bother, and that I was very welcome to go with her, I began to
dread the day in general… going public (transportation) for the first time alone, spending hours
sitting through speeches that I didn’t understand, just being gone all day long…
It went so great though, and it definitely was a good cultural experience. A bit before 9:30, I walked out to the road
and hailed a tuk-tuk. After you’ve done
it once, you realize that it truly isn’t a big deal, but the very first time,
you hope that you look a lot more brave and confident than you feel. One of the guys who was already in the tuk-tuk had apparently sold some handmade items to former missionaries to take home as
souvenirs when they returned to America, so he seemed to feel as though he had
this connection with me and happily chattered the entire way out to the main
road. Somehow, his jolly attitude got my
morning off to a great start. The next
step was crossing the busy road…watching for matatus zipping by, trucks rushing around the round-about, piki pikis flying by, and other pedestrians
who are also attempting to dart across the road… I made it to the other side as a survivor. YAY! :)
Being white can be a problem. Especially if you are a white girl. Especially if you are a white girl who is
alone. The problem is this: everyone wants to transport the mzungu (foreigner). I hopped in the fullest matatu, hoping that the fuller the van, the sooner we would leave. We eventually got left and after MANY stops
to pick up and drop off passengers we made it to Alendu, where I was meeting
Rosemary. From then on, I could relax and
just enjoy the ride and let Rosemary "be in charge." We had a great
time!! When we got to Boya, we walked way back in until we finally got to the
funeral (around 11:00). You could “hear”
it LONG before you could see it.
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| The dala (home) where the funeral was taking place.. |
There
was a group of people next to the coffin who were singing, dancing, and jumping,
while others were banging metal together, shaking some homemade instruments,
and pounding away on their drums. Thrilling.
We
viewed the body(thankfully through glass- which definitely helps out with the smell, although it is still not so pleasant), greeted dozens of people, and eventually sat down.
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| About 1/3 of the people sat under this tent... the rest of us were seated under nearby trees... |
Hour after hour, groups of people would come
forward to share memories of the deceased.
Some spoke in Luo, and it was translated to Swahili. Others spoke Swahili and it was translated to
Luo.
 |
| A few friends sharing memories... |
As this group (below) was sharing, I was deeply humored... What a vast difference in the way these friends were dressed... Everything from suitcoats & white long-sleeved shirts to sunglasses, blue baseball caps, & beanies. I was thankful he was wearing the hat and not me. I felt hot just watching him!
At times, newcomers would arrive…wailing
so loudly and pitifully that all other sounds were completely drowned out. They would then stand at the casket and weep
loudly for long periods of time. I wish
you could hear them moaning and watch them swaying back and forth. I wish you could smell the poor man seated
close beside me, who likely hadn’t bathed for a VERY LONG TIME. I wish you could hear ‘the band’ as they would
enthusiastically sing yet another song. I wish you could feel the heat and the warm
breeze. I wish you could see all the
moments that I wanted to take pictures of, but couldn’t capture in time. Overall, it was quite entertaining, even
though there were times that I got extremely tired.
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| This man was sleeping away. I was tempted to follow his example! |
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| This charming little girl was dressed in her absolute best! |
Around 1:00, Rosemary & I were taken to the “food tent”
where we were served a Kenyan meal. They
definitely treat visitors with extra respect, and it’s almost frustrating how
they cater to white people. Thankfully,
they did not seem bothered that I wasn’t interested in the intestines and other internal delicacies.
My plateful of food... Starting at the 1:00 position and going clockwise: sikuma, cabbage, beef (chewy and terrible), cold rice, and ugali...
Later, Rosemary took me to
the dala where she had grown up, and showed me where her house used to be,
where she used to pump water, etc. Sadly,
polygamy is very ordinary here, and her grandfather had seven wives. It was interesting to see how each house was
placed in a circle around the common central ground. Rosemary then introduced me to many of her “brothers
and sisters.” She grew up with her aunt
and uncle, so these cousins became her family.
Her sisters thought it was extremely important that we take LOTS of
pictures.
One of her brothers was sent to town to pick up cold sodas
for us. It is so humbling to accept
gifts from these people who cannot afford to buy a drink for themselves, yet
turning them down would be much, much worse.
These people give from the heart, and find such joy and pleasure in
serving others.
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| Rosemary and some of her family :) |
We eventually left and after a lengthy journey, I arrived
back at the compound around 5:00. It was
a wonderful experience, but it felt so good to be HOME.
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| The husband and son of the deceased lady... |
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