Life and Death in the Amazon

Living in an indigenous community in the Ecuadorian Amazon has provided me with a pathway into a world unlike any I have ever known. If during my placement here I had lived outside the community and only came in to work, I would never have had the experiences I have had up to now. These experiences can be both good and bad, but I’ve had to take them as they come.

As I was walking to work this week, I spotted a woman I knew near the doorway of her house. Recognizing her, I decided to wave, but the response I got back to her through her facial expression was an unexpected look of pure grief and sorrow. The loud wailing coming from the house confirmed her look, something terribly painful was going on.

Feeling too awkward to stop, I decided to continue on. A few moments later I ran into a friend and asked what was happening. He told me an old woman, perhaps in her nineties or almost 100 years old, was in the last hours of her life. Too weak to walk in the past months, I had never had the chance to meet her. He asked if I would like to go in but I declined, feeling this would be the worst of times to do so despite the offer.

The next morning I arrived at the school to teach, only to find out that the classes had been cancelled for the day. The woman had passed away at 11:00 p.m. the previous night. The family had decided that the best place to have the funeral was in the lunch room used by the school. The teachers were asked if the room could be used, they accepted, and as a result school was cancelled.

During the day preparations for the funeral slowly fell into place. A truck delivering the casket arrived and family members trickled in from near and far. By sundown, all was in place.

I arrived that night at the funeral service, not sure quite what to expect. Knowing my community’s history of evangelization by protestant missionaries, I at least expected something quiet and respectful, with some sort of local tradition still in place. What I got instead was something entirely different.

Inside the room where I had expected to find peace and quiet, there was instead a good sized party going on. At least one side of the room was filled with people smoking cigarettes and playing cards, laughing, telling jokes and generally having a good time. On the other side were the family members, more reserved, obviously mourning, and mostly quiet expect, for those wailing out load. The contrast could not have been starker.

Despite the contrast what definitely stood out in the room was the beautifully adorned casket, supported on four gold pedestals. Made of a dark deep wood, it had a gold rim running around the outside that shone bright in the light that fell upon it. At the base were several pictures of Jesus encapsulated in what seemed like glass or plastic. Around it six lights stood like pillars shinning light into the room. Directly behind it was a bright gold cross with a silver body of Jesus. For a captivating visual effect, it could not have been done better.

Looking at the strikingly beautiful scene, it did dawn on me that it was a casket, and this was a funeral. Still the way it stuck out in the room was striking. I thought taking a picture but morbidity aside, I decided that it wasn’t the right time or place.

As I settled down to a game of chess with some of my friends, two of the community leaders began the funeral service. I thought at this point that things would quiet down but despite a light drop in the volume the party kept on going. It continued through the prayers, scripture reading, and the mourning. In one sense the scene seemed acceptable to all, but I also felt some shock at what I perceived as a “lack of respect.”

After the service the party really started to pick up. This began with what I call the “fire trick.” Basically someone lights a piece of rolled up paper on fire and,when no one suspects it, runs through the room brushing it along unsuspecting bystanders feet. People jump and scream in surprise and everyone laughs and has a good time. I personally covered my beard for fear of that catching on fire.

The “fire trick” can also be combined with an animal element in the form of one of the many local dogs. This trick involves the same flaming paper, but this time tied with a string to the tail of the dog. You then chase the dog into the room and hilarity ensues. This joke was played at all times, even during the scripture reading!

Later I discussed my impressions of the funeral with one of the community leaders. I explained how in Canada a funeral(or those I have been to), is a much more reserved, solemn, and dedicated to reflection on the person’s life. There may be a party, but it would certainly be afterwards. He in turn told me there was no problem doing things this way in the community. If anything the party was a sign to the family that it was still possible to have fun in a time of mourning. Later into the night they partied, but I left exhausted at midnight.

The next morning there was still a group of people gathered in the lunch room. Once again I approached with my camera, but felt like I was intruding on their grief. At the woman’s house a grave was being dug, as it is customarily done, underneath the house. At 3:00 p.m. that afternoon the casket was moved from the lunch room and buried under the house.

The last thing I saw was three candles blowing in the wind on top of the grave as the sun slowly set on the life of a woman that I’d never known.