February 1st was the
funeral for Erika, the second year student in my high school who died
suddenly. I went, and it was the first
time I felt like a foreigner in a strange land.
I didn’t know what to expect, but I sort of expected it to be like a
Western funeral. Obviously I wasn’t
thinking. But hey, if they have Western
weddings, why not Western funerals? It
really wasn’t a funeral in my thinking since they don’t burry their dead for a
year or so after the cremation, but keep the ashes in the home alters. All the ‘funeral’ is in Japan is a way
for people to pay their respects to the family and say goodbye. It is customary for people to bring a gift of
money to the funeral to help pay for expenses.
This money is put in a special envelope and given at the entrance to the
funeral home. Naito sensei showed me how
to write Shirane High School in kanji so I could label my
envelope properly in katakana (my name) and kanji (school name). I’m not sure why I had to identify myself and
my school, but that’s the way it’s done.
I suppose I should have learned how to write my school’s name in kanji a
long time ago, but at least I know now.
My handwriting is not so pretty, I’m sure it will bring some amusement
to those who look at it!
At the funeral home we gave our
envelopes to the funeral home attendants and got a ticket in return. Then we waited in line for our turn to greet
the family. This was a Shinto style
funeral and there was an elaborate alter-type thing with the picture of the
deceased. We came up in groups of five
and were given fake branches to lay beside the smaller picture of Erika at a
table separating us from the family and the big display area. The family was sitting on two sides of the
room and I was told one side of the family sat on one side and the other on the
other. I’m not sure why since she wasn’t
married, so I guess it was mother’s side and father’s side. Anyway, we bowed to one and then to the other
family, laid down our branches and bowed again.
Then we filed away and were given a hand towel to wipe our hands
with. We presented our tickets and got a
thank you gift then we left the building and sprinkled salt on each other on
the way out. That was it. There were a lot of people, and of course I
wouldn’t have been able to say much to the family, but I would think as a
Japanese person I’d want to talk with the family and spend some time with them,
like we do in America . I’ve lucky that I haven’t been to too many
funerals in America ,
but time together always seems to be an important part. Of course all the Shinto ritual was strange,
but what made it stranger to me was that everything looked normal and familiar
yet acted so very differently. It was a
modern building and everyone had Western clothing and it was business as
usual. Why did we wash our hands after
we greeted the family? Did we have to
cleanse ourselves of anything to do with death?
I know religious ritual doesn’t mean much to Japanese people now, but it
felt almost rude for me to pay my respects to the family then wash my hands. It felt a bit like shaking the dust from my
sandals! I guess it shouldn’t bother me
that they used the same fake branches over and over again to offer to the
families, but it seemed empty, too. I
was told the salt sprinkling was also a ritual of cleansing, I guess like the
salt at sumo matches.
Anyway, the whole thing just felt
so weird. Here are all these people that
I think I know acting in such an unfamiliar way. What could I do? How could I help? How could I reach them or connect with
them? I’m not sure if my presence meant
anything to anyone. I’m not sure what
anything meant to anyone. How can I know
when I can’t speak!
That morning I’d heard class 2-6
(second year, class 6) singing the most haunting a cappella in their
classroom. I had thought at the time
that they’d sing at the funeral, but I guess they were saying goodbye in their
own way. Maybe it’s been long enough now
that I can ask questions, but it seemed inappropriate at the time.
I forgot to mention that the
funeral was during the school day and students were allowed to go. I’ll also mention that the gift I got for
bringing money was nori (dried seaweed).
Or rather it was an inordinate amount of packaging with some nori
inside. Maybe when I’m back in the
states I can make a joke about that, but I won’t here.
I love Japan and its people. I love living here and feel very comfortable,
but I am still a stranger in a strange land and sometimes it hits me full in
the face. We are different – so different. If we forget that in our striving to find
unity then we open ourselves up for even more misunderstanding. I have great respect for all the mixed
couples in our church!
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