My alarm went off at 6:30 gaahh. I hate getting up this early, it’s worse than when I had to wake up for high school. Today though weren’t just getting up to go to work, we were going to a funeral. The dad of one of our friends had died. Nalu is one of the peer leaders we work with and really like, so we wanted to be there for her. We dressed in our nicest clothes – that coming from a pretty limited selection – skirts to our knees and nice tops. We were supposed to meet Newton at the Munali site at 8:30, and of course he was late. Today was the coldest day we had yet to experience in Zambia. It was really cloudy and windy, and we were freezing. The entire time we were walking or waiting we just talked about how we wanted hot showers, blankets, and big mugs of hot cocoa.
After Newton got there we walked for about 10 minutes and met Aaron, William (the crazy one) and a few of their other friends. We headed over the Kandua Square, the area where Nalu lives and where the church service was being held. We were the only white people in the church so we really stuck out. We were also the only women not wearing a Chitenge (chee-ten-gay: the long colorful cloth wraps that they wear as skirts). Oh well, we try. We weren’t there to fit in, we were there to support our friend. The service didn’t start till about 10:30, and was probably one of the longest services we have ever sat through. Almost half of it was singing by the church choir – which was made up of about 30 women dressed in red robes and white hair turbans. Some people sang along, but since it the songs were in Nyanja we couldn’t really partake. The majority of the service was also in Nyanja so we were also totally lost during that. It was hard to stay focused (and awake) when we had no idea what was going on. The parts in English that we understood included a few prayers, and the description of the deceased. We learned that Nalu’s father, George, was born in 1945. He also left behind a wife, 9 children, and 17 grandchildren! Quite the impressive family legacy.
After the service ended we all loaded up into cars, buses, and trucks, and went over to the graveyard for the burial. All the people from Sport In Action went in the back of the Sport In Action flatbed truck (called Father). Chrissy and I were given Chitenges to wear since we had to sit on the floor of the truck bed. It was really fun riding in the back of the truck with everyone, but sometimes I was afraid the men sitting on the edge were going to fall off backwards on a turn. We had chosen to sit Indian style, and as my leg started to fall asleep I stupidly never changes positions. By the time we got there my entire leg was 100% asleep, to the point that I couldn’t feel it at all. When I tried to stand up I almost fell and Chrissy had to catch me. My walking was more of a limp because I was having a hard time judging the weight I could put on it. It was embarrassing and the weirdest feeling ever, but it went away after about 5 minutes.
The burial service was almost as long as the actual service, but we found it much more interesting because it so visual. The family members sat under a tent close to the gravesite, and everyone else stood surrounding the gravesite. We learned that the burial is very much a community event, where everyone comes together to help say goodbye for the last time. After the pastor said many words and the choir women sang some more songs, the casket was lowered into the ground. The immediate family members came up and threw a handful of dirt onto the casket. Many of the women were wailing and needing help walking to and from the burial site. We found this interesting because although crying is common at funerals at home, it is not so pronounced. The funerals I have been to had a lot of crying but it is much more subdued, with tears and some sniffling but not outright, loud wailing. Chrissy and I talked about this and we think that it’s because in the United States it’s viewed as more respectable if you can control your emotions, even for women. Women are viewed as stronger if they can do this.
After the dirt was thrown, the casket was buried. The men all took turns shoveling dirt into the hole. Many men went up to help and it seemed that this was the job of close friends and neighbors. A few of our friends from Sport In Action took turns shoveling. The men had also mixed cement, which they added as a middle layer before putting more dirt in. This process continued for about 30 minutes until the dirt not only filled the hole, but it was standing about 3 feet above the ground. At home this process is usually done by the gravediggers long after everyone has left graveyard, but here it’s more important for the community to do it together.
The next part of the service consisted of putting many roses into the mound of dirt. This was a really beautiful tradition. The wife of the deceased came up first and put a large wreath of roses at the foot. Then the pastor listed off groups of people to come up and put long stemmed little roses into the mound (children, brothers/sisters, grandchildren, cousins, neighbors, etc). We noticed that the women in each of these groups had on the same patterned Chitenge – his daughters wore one, granddaughters another, and so on. It was a nice symbolic gesture to show their relationship to the deceased.
The one part of the service that we were completely confused by (more like appalled) was the rudeness of some of the people at the funeral. A few of the Sport In Action workers were talking, laughing, and joking around during the burial. Unfortunately we couldn’t understand what they were saying. Despite the fact that we believe their conversation was unrelated to the ceremony it was still unbelievable that they would be acting like this. We couldn’t imagine that this behavior would be considered appropriate in Zambia, but no one told them to be quiet or leave so we weren’t sure. If we had been in the US Chrissy or I surely would have told them to stop disrespecting their friend who they had come to support.
After the burial we went back to the Sport In Action office and someone drove us to Chipata to do our second HIV/AIDS session. Although the kids were still really quiet/shy, they were able to answer us correctly when we quizzed them on what we had just covered. They also asked some really good questions, such as where HIV originally came from and how ARVs work in the body. After the lesson we went outside and played two games that they really seemed to enjoy. The Anti-AIDS Club teacher was watching us and was very pleased with our session. Overall we were happy with how it went. We got Lazzy to pick us up so we didn’t have to deal with the buses after such a long day.
We showered and changed into “normal” clothes and Lazzy picked us up at 7:30 because we were going out to dinner. It was the British girls’ last night here (which we were really sad about) so they had invited a large group out to Rhapsody’s. Rhapsody’s is a really nice restaurant down town located at Arcades. There were about 17 of us at dinner – it was the 4 British girls, 6 of the Ideals students, Mwape, George, Willy and his girlfriend, Dwayne, and then Chrissy and I. The food was AMAZING. It was almost Wa Duke style in terms of the options and the quality. I ordered a sirloin steak with mashed potatoes and Chrissy had chicken curry with roasted sweet potatoes – both of our meals were sooooo yummy. It was a really fun night out. Oh and did I forget to mention that they only cost us about $12 a piece, not bad eh. We went home full and happy, and went to bed.
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