We hear funerals on a regular
basis (Buddhist monk chanting is amped up to about 150,000 decibels so people
from surrounding countries can listen in), but hadn’t attended one until a few
weeks ago. Actually, we didn’t know we
were attending a funeral until we got there. A church member’s father had
passed away and we took some local leaders in our car to visit the family waaaaaay
out in the boonies. When we got there (about 7 in the morning), the chanting
was in process and about 100-200 people had gathered in the back jungle for a
traditional breakfast called “buh bah.” It’s simple to make and ideal for a
large crowd. Fill a BIG kettle with water. Add chicken powder, some pork or
chicken, cooked rice, edible weeds, seasonings and boil until the meat is done.
Garnish with chopped green onions and bean sprouts. Cheap and Delicious. The
most expensive part was the foam bowls and plastic spoons.
The deceased is kept in an open casket (no embalming) just a few feet from the breakfast tables (the culture isn’t squimish about death). Once everyone is fed, the “pall bearers” put a lid on the casket and carry it to a waiting truck. No fancy gurneys like in US funerals. It’s lift and carry the entire way. At this funeral they had to machete out a path in order to get the casket to the road. Family members jump in the back of the truck with the casket, and the convoy leaves for the local wat (temple). Cremation is the standard in Cambodia – but it’s different from cremation in the US. Cremations are often done in full view of the onlookers. The monks put the casket in the furnace, add the wood and light it up. The furnace door stays open until sufficient heat is generated. Then the monks close it. After that, everyone goes home. Sometimes ashes are collected and sometimes not.
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| Crematorium |
But it doesn’t end there.
Cambodia has a cool cultural tradition of having a party on the death anniversary
date every year for four years. Monks do their chanting for a couple of hours,
then dinner is served. We’ve been to two of these (we were invited to come AFTER
the chanting had finished – but we could hear it from across town) so far, and
they were fascinating. The first one was a fairly modest affair. But the second
was lavish and HUGE! It was a circus tent 50 yards long by 10 yards wide – with
guards checking invitations at the entry. Live band, clothed tables and chairs,
catered dinner at each table, and an unlimited supply of canned soft drinks (the
four missionaries that went with us were in heaven). Fanta grape, Fanta orange,
Fanta blueberry, Fanta raspberry, Fanta green stuff (tastes kinda like cotton
candy), sprite, coke (coke is everywhere – more common than water) and a
Schweppes something – that tasted close to root beer (but not). However, the
rusted lining of the event was the line-up of poor folks outside the tent –
looking in through the plastic windows. It was the classic display of the “haves”
and “have-nots.” Rich folks inside – at the king’s feast. Street kids outside,
fighting over bread crusts. 
Someday this will change. Someday education will be
available to all. Someday the decades-long socialist society and NGO mentality will
end and people will empower themselves to become self-reliant. Someday. We often
feel like the guy throwing starfish back into the ocean. We can’t make a
difference for everyone, but we can for some.
