There's a real racial divide in Vanuatu over how people think about black magic. Expats (Peace Corps too) think it's superstition or some way to blame people for accidents/illnesses that weren't anyone's fault except for Papa God's or a poor health care system. But when I think of my family and friends here -- 100% they believe in black magic and it's not a laughing matter at all.
I actually believe in black magic much more now than I did when I first got here. (Is that a sign I've been here too long?) My view of what is and isn't true or real has developed at the same time that my knowledge of this place has deepened. So I thought it'd be good to give a small preview of what black magic is, what people mean when they talk about it, and just general context for understanding this country.
1. Black magic is real. By this, I mean -- magic is real here. Vanuatu is a country that has devils and spirits; it's a country in which prayer is strong; you could say that the spiritual world is much closer and much more present than in America. (But remember -- we also have people who believe in ghosts and aliens and UFOs, and most Americans believe in God, so let's not get confused here about what I'm saying. We do this in our own way). People practice good magic -- my host mother during training went to see a Christian healer to help her conceive a child -- but people also practice black magic. Meaning: there are people who go out into the bush and do dances/use other secret kastom knowledge in the hopes that something bad happens to someone else.
2. It's all about jealousy. There is a lot of envy and jealousy here, I think largely because there's a big disparity between people with good government jobs, people who own stores, and the like, and other people, who don't have the cash to do things that they want. The difference between being able to send your children to high school and having to tell them to stay at home is enormous. On Malekula in particular, there's a lot of arson that goes on out of jealousy. Stores get burned down, the airport building was burn down ten years ago ... It's a problem. A few years back, apparently a lot of horses were killed because of jealousy. This is my tingting nomo but I think the reason people do do black magic is out of anger and jealousy at other people.
3. Reminder: black magic is real. I mean that there are people who confess to doing it and there are people who believe other people are doing it, too.
4. I refuse to believe that sorcerors can take the form of animals, sorry. What I do believe is real: people do dances in the bush. These dances and other secret kastom knowledge are intended to lead to something bad happening to someone else. If or when something bad does happen, you know it's you. Also: I believe in poison. I think poison is real and that some people do have knowledge of herbs and plants that other people don't know about. Also, sweet mouth -- think island roofies. And also, I don't know a lot about this, but sometimes people say black magic is related to some objects you can make, and that they can give you power, but make other people sick. I don't want to be too explicit here because I'm talking about someone I know pretty well, and I think the sickness they attributed to black magic could have been cured with a knee brace.
That being said, here's time for some island-style information on avoiding black magic .
1. Don't get anyone really mad at you. That means say you're sorry, island-style if necessary. (Island style means you hold a sorry ceremony and come with your whole family to meet with their whole family, exchange gifts, and shake hands, vowing to never again be angry with each other.)
2. Don't eat food given by anyone you don't know or trust. Don't drink kava if you don't see where they're getting it from. Don't eat someone's leftovers because it could have been poison.
3. Look after where you put your hair and your toenail clippings. Don't give your hair to people.
4. (This is South Malekula): Don't throw rubbish from your food like banana peels or coconuts all around. Take them with you and bury them when you're alone.
Showing posts with label cross-culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cross-culture. Show all posts
Monday, February 9, 2015
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
Cross Culture: Hard and Fast Deadlines
In America, we are really, really firm about time: when transport leaves, or when a store opens and closes, or even how long a party lasts. If an airline company sells you a ticket that says your flight to Cleveland is going to leave at 4:05, you probably will leave at 4:05, or maybe 4:15 or 4:35. If a store is open from 8 to 6, it's open from 8 to 6. Show up at 7:30, and chances are low that anyone will open up the door for you. And parties usually have a start time, and an implied, if not explicit end time. Unless you're 14 and having a slumber party, you probably need to go home before it's time to go to bed. Et cetera.
My point is, here, that none of this is universal. This is how we as Americans behave, but it's not how everyone behaves.
Example. I was trying to go attend my counterpart's wedding on Tongariki. (She is, as always, great.) I bought a ticket on Monday, which was supposed to leave Tuesday night. Then it was supposed to leave Wednesday night. Then Thursday morning. At that point, when I saw that the ocean will continue to be rough, and knowing that, usually, ships like to live Vila at the beginning of the week, I decided that I wasn't going to go anymore. I wasn't supposed to get a full refund -- and then I did? But, anyway, it was not that great. I had hoped to be able to go, but since the time of departure kept moving, it was time to get a move on.
Example 2. Vanuatu stores have opening and closing hours, but they're a lot more relaxed, I think, than in America. A lot of the small Chinese stores open in the early morning when the owners get up (so anywhere from 530-630, for the most part) and many close sometime between 8 and 930, but you can't always tell when that is. Like this store Tebakor Shopping Center, that I go to in Vila a lot? Half the time when I come back from kava, it's closed; other times, still running strong. The disadvantage of this all is that you don't always know when everything is open when it's 9 p.m. and you need some hardboiled eggs in your life, pronto.
Example 3. Parties here don't start the same way as they do in America. That is to say, parties and events often start three, four, five, six hours after their proposed starting time, and then they keep going ... until everyone's done. Can you imagine, as an American, if you said that your holiday party was going to start at noon and everyone rolled in at 3:15? You'd be livid -- but here, especially outside of cities, that's how it is. People aren't squeezing in multiple plans, but starting times are more like suggestions. Especially when, like on Tongariki, it's the sort of event where people need to bring food, they're going to come when the food is cooked, the laundry is finished, and everyone's dressed up nice.
What this means in context for Vanuatu is: this place is enjoyable, but things are slow. Things are going to happen at their own pace. Don't fight it! There was this Washington Post article by some people who apparently had a wretched time on Tanna, which is sad, since Tanna has this incredible volcano the likes of which you'd never see anywhere else. They complained about the speed of transport. To which I have to say: it's an island in the South Pacific. Volcanoes aren't conveniently located next to the 7/11. If you want to have a good time, relax, let it go, and don't try to overbook yourself.
My point is, here, that none of this is universal. This is how we as Americans behave, but it's not how everyone behaves.
Example. I was trying to go attend my counterpart's wedding on Tongariki. (She is, as always, great.) I bought a ticket on Monday, which was supposed to leave Tuesday night. Then it was supposed to leave Wednesday night. Then Thursday morning. At that point, when I saw that the ocean will continue to be rough, and knowing that, usually, ships like to live Vila at the beginning of the week, I decided that I wasn't going to go anymore. I wasn't supposed to get a full refund -- and then I did? But, anyway, it was not that great. I had hoped to be able to go, but since the time of departure kept moving, it was time to get a move on.
Example 2. Vanuatu stores have opening and closing hours, but they're a lot more relaxed, I think, than in America. A lot of the small Chinese stores open in the early morning when the owners get up (so anywhere from 530-630, for the most part) and many close sometime between 8 and 930, but you can't always tell when that is. Like this store Tebakor Shopping Center, that I go to in Vila a lot? Half the time when I come back from kava, it's closed; other times, still running strong. The disadvantage of this all is that you don't always know when everything is open when it's 9 p.m. and you need some hardboiled eggs in your life, pronto.
Example 3. Parties here don't start the same way as they do in America. That is to say, parties and events often start three, four, five, six hours after their proposed starting time, and then they keep going ... until everyone's done. Can you imagine, as an American, if you said that your holiday party was going to start at noon and everyone rolled in at 3:15? You'd be livid -- but here, especially outside of cities, that's how it is. People aren't squeezing in multiple plans, but starting times are more like suggestions. Especially when, like on Tongariki, it's the sort of event where people need to bring food, they're going to come when the food is cooked, the laundry is finished, and everyone's dressed up nice.
What this means in context for Vanuatu is: this place is enjoyable, but things are slow. Things are going to happen at their own pace. Don't fight it! There was this Washington Post article by some people who apparently had a wretched time on Tanna, which is sad, since Tanna has this incredible volcano the likes of which you'd never see anywhere else. They complained about the speed of transport. To which I have to say: it's an island in the South Pacific. Volcanoes aren't conveniently located next to the 7/11. If you want to have a good time, relax, let it go, and don't try to overbook yourself.
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Cross-culture: Women's Clothes
For today's cross-culture post, I want to talk about clothes. All about clothes. What sort of clothes are social acceptable for doing work around your house? What sort of clothes are acceptable if you're doing sport? What should you wear to church? What are the gender differences? What is seen as formal or informal wear? Basically--how are clothes different in America and Vanuatu?
When I first got to Vanuatu, one of my biggest complaints had to do with the clothing that I had to wear. Vanuatu is a very conservative country, and one of the ways that it's conservative is that shorts and even long trousers are not really seen as appropriate wear for women. While a woman can wear a t shirt or a tank top (and even breastfeed in church), thighs are verboten. In the capital city, Vila, this means : you'll see young women in the Vila uniform of tshirt/tank top, hair slicked back in a bun, earrings, and knee length (or longer) shorts. Think the type of shorts men in America wear. In more remote settings (like where I was on Tongariki), even those long shorts are considered inappropriate for most settings. Women wear shorts while playing sport, doing work around the house, and sometimes while going to the garden. It is, however, inappropriate for women to wear shorts to the nakamal (chief's house / communal meeting house), to church, or inside school bounds. Many villages have a trousers fine. Mine did not have a trousers fine in public places, although my school by-laws specified a 500 vatu fine (around 5.50$) for any woman who wore shorts inside the school boundaries, except during sports hour. I never heard of anyone being charged the trousers fine, but it was considered disrespectful.
And to us, in America, it's like -- what??? As I'm home on home leave, I've been looking around at street style throughout Alexandria and Richmond. There's one thing you can say for sure about women's fashion in America, and that is that during the fall and winter, trousers reign supreme. I don't actually think I've seen a woman walking around in a skirt and a dress yet. You see leggings, jeans, trousers, even occasionally shorts -- but that's because for us, wearing trousers is not suggestive. I think Americans are the opposite of Ni-Vanuatu in that we think showing legs is A-OK, but we explode over whether or not breastfeeding in public is OK, or whether a woman can sunbathe topless. I heard about a professor at American University who was thrown through the ringer in the media for breastfeeding in class. To make the point that this is cultural, my head teacher at Coconak School, Elsie Daniel, breastfed her baby at school multiple times a day, every day. Once I told some friends on the island that, in America, sometimes women have to breastfeed in the toilets at work, and they thought it was just the most disgusting and bizarre thing imaginable. From wanem ol woman i mas kivim titi insaed lo wan toilet? It's American culture that says legs are good but breasts are bad; it's Ni-Van culture that says breasts are good but legs are bad, on a woman.
So, given that modesty in Vanuatu is mostly related to the bottom half of the body, what do women wear?
I already described the Vila uniform for young women -- long shorts, tank/tee, maybe a hoodie. When it comes to professional wear for women of all ages, you'll usually see something along the lines of a calf-length black skirt with an island printed, modest short sleeve shirt. Many businesses in Vila have uniforms for their female workers, which might mean different colors and fabrics, but will be along the same lines. The female staff of the Peace Corps office are super, super fancy, and they usually dress up even more nicely -- usually longer skirts (but sometimes trousers), really nice tops, and of course, earrings, nice hair. (The women who work in the Peace Corps office are seriously very, very stylish. When I'm trying to figure out the lines of what is appropriate yet fashionable, I usually look at what they're wearing for ideas. It has definitely convinced me that I need to spend more time on my hair!) You will, of course, also see TONS of island dresses. They're very versatile -- most of the women who work in the market wear them; many store clerks wear them; many office workers wear them -- and extremely common.
What about in the villages? On Tongariki, most women wear calf length skirts with t shirts or tank tops. Unlike in Vila, clothes tend to be worn until they got pretty crummy. (I include myself here -- I would wear shirts that had rat holes in them, because it was the shirt I had.) It's like clothes downgrade from something you could wear to a nice occasion, to normal clothes, to something that you only wear if you're going to the garden and nowhere else. On Tongariki it is especially common for women to wear island dresses. I can't remember my Auntie Ruth not wearing an island dress. On casual occasions, like around the house, or for young women who had been wearing trousers but needed to go to the nakamal, it is really common to wrap a sarong around your waist. These are not super stylish sarongs like they wear in Burma or Samoa -- it's usually just tying a knot around a hip rather than folding it over.
I did get very used to wearing long skirts, which I didn't expect. In America, you couldn't have caught me dead in one -- but they have their advantages. In day-to-day life, my island uniform is a tank top, a long skirt, flip flops, knock off Raybans, and a woven basket. In Vila, I usually dress like a tourist, and when I run into friends and family from Tongariki, I just hope I'm not wearing shorts that are too short. Vila is pretty free, because the Australian cruise ship tourists wear microscopic mini shorts. This means, as a foreign looking woman, I don't feel weird dressing 'western' in the main part of town. Caveat: this only applies to people who do not live in Vila. If you're a woman who works in Vila, you have to be a lot more careful about the clothes you wear, since it's such a small town. For me, I can dress like everyday is Fleet Week if I want to. (I don't.) But it's important to remember.
Coming up tomorrow : men's clothes! Or, the revenge of the island shirt.
When I first got to Vanuatu, one of my biggest complaints had to do with the clothing that I had to wear. Vanuatu is a very conservative country, and one of the ways that it's conservative is that shorts and even long trousers are not really seen as appropriate wear for women. While a woman can wear a t shirt or a tank top (and even breastfeed in church), thighs are verboten. In the capital city, Vila, this means : you'll see young women in the Vila uniform of tshirt/tank top, hair slicked back in a bun, earrings, and knee length (or longer) shorts. Think the type of shorts men in America wear. In more remote settings (like where I was on Tongariki), even those long shorts are considered inappropriate for most settings. Women wear shorts while playing sport, doing work around the house, and sometimes while going to the garden. It is, however, inappropriate for women to wear shorts to the nakamal (chief's house / communal meeting house), to church, or inside school bounds. Many villages have a trousers fine. Mine did not have a trousers fine in public places, although my school by-laws specified a 500 vatu fine (around 5.50$) for any woman who wore shorts inside the school boundaries, except during sports hour. I never heard of anyone being charged the trousers fine, but it was considered disrespectful.
And to us, in America, it's like -- what??? As I'm home on home leave, I've been looking around at street style throughout Alexandria and Richmond. There's one thing you can say for sure about women's fashion in America, and that is that during the fall and winter, trousers reign supreme. I don't actually think I've seen a woman walking around in a skirt and a dress yet. You see leggings, jeans, trousers, even occasionally shorts -- but that's because for us, wearing trousers is not suggestive. I think Americans are the opposite of Ni-Vanuatu in that we think showing legs is A-OK, but we explode over whether or not breastfeeding in public is OK, or whether a woman can sunbathe topless. I heard about a professor at American University who was thrown through the ringer in the media for breastfeeding in class. To make the point that this is cultural, my head teacher at Coconak School, Elsie Daniel, breastfed her baby at school multiple times a day, every day. Once I told some friends on the island that, in America, sometimes women have to breastfeed in the toilets at work, and they thought it was just the most disgusting and bizarre thing imaginable. From wanem ol woman i mas kivim titi insaed lo wan toilet? It's American culture that says legs are good but breasts are bad; it's Ni-Van culture that says breasts are good but legs are bad, on a woman.
So, given that modesty in Vanuatu is mostly related to the bottom half of the body, what do women wear?
I already described the Vila uniform for young women -- long shorts, tank/tee, maybe a hoodie. When it comes to professional wear for women of all ages, you'll usually see something along the lines of a calf-length black skirt with an island printed, modest short sleeve shirt. Many businesses in Vila have uniforms for their female workers, which might mean different colors and fabrics, but will be along the same lines. The female staff of the Peace Corps office are super, super fancy, and they usually dress up even more nicely -- usually longer skirts (but sometimes trousers), really nice tops, and of course, earrings, nice hair. (The women who work in the Peace Corps office are seriously very, very stylish. When I'm trying to figure out the lines of what is appropriate yet fashionable, I usually look at what they're wearing for ideas. It has definitely convinced me that I need to spend more time on my hair!) You will, of course, also see TONS of island dresses. They're very versatile -- most of the women who work in the market wear them; many store clerks wear them; many office workers wear them -- and extremely common.
What about in the villages? On Tongariki, most women wear calf length skirts with t shirts or tank tops. Unlike in Vila, clothes tend to be worn until they got pretty crummy. (I include myself here -- I would wear shirts that had rat holes in them, because it was the shirt I had.) It's like clothes downgrade from something you could wear to a nice occasion, to normal clothes, to something that you only wear if you're going to the garden and nowhere else. On Tongariki it is especially common for women to wear island dresses. I can't remember my Auntie Ruth not wearing an island dress. On casual occasions, like around the house, or for young women who had been wearing trousers but needed to go to the nakamal, it is really common to wrap a sarong around your waist. These are not super stylish sarongs like they wear in Burma or Samoa -- it's usually just tying a knot around a hip rather than folding it over.
I did get very used to wearing long skirts, which I didn't expect. In America, you couldn't have caught me dead in one -- but they have their advantages. In day-to-day life, my island uniform is a tank top, a long skirt, flip flops, knock off Raybans, and a woven basket. In Vila, I usually dress like a tourist, and when I run into friends and family from Tongariki, I just hope I'm not wearing shorts that are too short. Vila is pretty free, because the Australian cruise ship tourists wear microscopic mini shorts. This means, as a foreign looking woman, I don't feel weird dressing 'western' in the main part of town. Caveat: this only applies to people who do not live in Vila. If you're a woman who works in Vila, you have to be a lot more careful about the clothes you wear, since it's such a small town. For me, I can dress like everyday is Fleet Week if I want to. (I don't.) But it's important to remember.
Coming up tomorrow : men's clothes! Or, the revenge of the island shirt.
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Cross-Culture: New Baby Parties!
Ok. Today's post is going to be happier than yesterday's! It's also going to be shorter.That's because it's about a happier topic, which is new baby parties. Everyone loves to celebrate a new baby. That's because babies are wonderful. I especially like babies when they're about six months old and because they don't have teeth look so happy to see everyone. <3 It'll be shorter, because I think the differences are smaller here than they are when talking about end of life.
The main reason for choosing this idea: my brother and his wife are going to have a new baby in February, and so a while back I went to their baby shower. It was super lovely, and--because they roasted a pig!--really made me think of it in contrast to baby showers in Vanuatu. I'm going to describe their baby shower and then describe a new baby party that happened for my good friend, Elsie.
Nick and Anna's baby shower was an afternoon party. Anna's friend Gaelyn did the planning. There were decorations (Dr. Seuss and children's books), activities (decorating bibs and creating mementos for the baby, when she arrives in the world), and a lifetime supply of food. We're talking a whole roast pig, a roast turkey, salads, deviled eggs, dips, chips, cakes, pies, meatballs, smores, so much food, and tons of drinks, too. After everyone had lunch, we watched Nick and Anna open their presents--mostly books, clothes, toys, blankets, that sort of thing. People started to leave, but some stuck around for a few more hours, drinking beer and cleaning up and chatting.
When Elsie came back from the hospital with small Renata Amanda, the new baby party was a night event. Elsie and her fiance's families butchered a pig and got a big meal of roasted root crops underneath hot stones. First, there was a small religious ceremony inside the community hall, where the Presbyterian pastors led hymns and prayers for Renata. Everyone gave presents, but more along the line of cloth and diapers and laundry soap. Afterwards, there was a lot of kava, a bottle of whiskey floating around, and dinner. Some people were still drinking when I left.
These were both great parties! As you can see, I think it's clear that these two parties both shared tons in common. You've got the feast, the presents for the baby, the best wishes from the people around, the drinking (to a degree, more so at Elsie and Terry's than at Nick and Anna's) ... even the pig. But there are some differences that go beyond economic changes.
One major difference is that in Vanuatu, parties happen after the baby is born rather than before. This is because there is a much higher rate of still birth and neonatal death in Vanuatu than in America. One thing that I find really, really sad, is how when I ask a woman how many children she has, she'll include in her count the number of children who died.
Another difference (happier, this time), is in the social function of the baby shower/baby party. By 'social function', I mean-- why have a party? In America, I feel that although there is someone who acts as the host or hostess, the major reason for the shower is so that family and friends can give things for the baby. It's like the idea that we will give presents for the new baby, and in return, as part of the social contract, we too will receive reciprocal presents. Culturally, I think it's a delayed gift giving exchange, similar to how we give presents to newly married couples, knowing that when it is (or was) our turn to be married, we will get (or did get) our own presents. In Vanuatu, on the other hand, while it is still a gift exchange, I think the real point is more that it's a feast thrown by the family of the baby. It's a way to introduce the baby to everyone and to welcome him or her into the community. In my opinion, it is a very important feast, and you can tell that by the food. Pigs are very important, because traditionally they are a valuable cultural symbol of wealth. So by throwing a feast (and sponsoring the meat of the feast, in particular), the baby's family goes to serious expense to feed anyone who shows up.
The main reason for choosing this idea: my brother and his wife are going to have a new baby in February, and so a while back I went to their baby shower. It was super lovely, and--because they roasted a pig!--really made me think of it in contrast to baby showers in Vanuatu. I'm going to describe their baby shower and then describe a new baby party that happened for my good friend, Elsie.
Nick and Anna's baby shower was an afternoon party. Anna's friend Gaelyn did the planning. There were decorations (Dr. Seuss and children's books), activities (decorating bibs and creating mementos for the baby, when she arrives in the world), and a lifetime supply of food. We're talking a whole roast pig, a roast turkey, salads, deviled eggs, dips, chips, cakes, pies, meatballs, smores, so much food, and tons of drinks, too. After everyone had lunch, we watched Nick and Anna open their presents--mostly books, clothes, toys, blankets, that sort of thing. People started to leave, but some stuck around for a few more hours, drinking beer and cleaning up and chatting.
When Elsie came back from the hospital with small Renata Amanda, the new baby party was a night event. Elsie and her fiance's families butchered a pig and got a big meal of roasted root crops underneath hot stones. First, there was a small religious ceremony inside the community hall, where the Presbyterian pastors led hymns and prayers for Renata. Everyone gave presents, but more along the line of cloth and diapers and laundry soap. Afterwards, there was a lot of kava, a bottle of whiskey floating around, and dinner. Some people were still drinking when I left.
These were both great parties! As you can see, I think it's clear that these two parties both shared tons in common. You've got the feast, the presents for the baby, the best wishes from the people around, the drinking (to a degree, more so at Elsie and Terry's than at Nick and Anna's) ... even the pig. But there are some differences that go beyond economic changes.
One major difference is that in Vanuatu, parties happen after the baby is born rather than before. This is because there is a much higher rate of still birth and neonatal death in Vanuatu than in America. One thing that I find really, really sad, is how when I ask a woman how many children she has, she'll include in her count the number of children who died.
Another difference (happier, this time), is in the social function of the baby shower/baby party. By 'social function', I mean-- why have a party? In America, I feel that although there is someone who acts as the host or hostess, the major reason for the shower is so that family and friends can give things for the baby. It's like the idea that we will give presents for the new baby, and in return, as part of the social contract, we too will receive reciprocal presents. Culturally, I think it's a delayed gift giving exchange, similar to how we give presents to newly married couples, knowing that when it is (or was) our turn to be married, we will get (or did get) our own presents. In Vanuatu, on the other hand, while it is still a gift exchange, I think the real point is more that it's a feast thrown by the family of the baby. It's a way to introduce the baby to everyone and to welcome him or her into the community. In my opinion, it is a very important feast, and you can tell that by the food. Pigs are very important, because traditionally they are a valuable cultural symbol of wealth. So by throwing a feast (and sponsoring the meat of the feast, in particular), the baby's family goes to serious expense to feed anyone who shows up.
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Cross-Culture: Deaths and Funerals
I thought it'd be fun to do a mini informative series of posts about cross-cultural differences between America. My hope is that by highlighting an American practice and contrasting it to a Ni-Vanuatu practice, people who read this blog will get to know more about my country of service. As I'm home on home leave, I keep getting struck by little things -- talk of funeral arrangements, baby showers, how kids should/should not behave -- that differ here than in Vanuatu. Sometimes the differences are pretty subtle, but I think it's interesting to consider how we as Americans have our own culture and our own practices that differ from others.
I want to start with something pretty heavy, which is death and funerals.
I'm choosing death and funerals for several reasons. One is that I listened to this absolutely bonkers/great Fresh Air podcast this weekend called A Mortician Talks Openly About Death and Wants You To Too. The mortician in question wants Americans to be more comfortable with death, to have wakes, to accompany their dead family members to the crematory, to eschew embalming, to use degradable shrouds to bury their dead, et cetera. She believes that practices that let living family members come into closer contact with their dead are more natural, healthy, and conducive to a successful grieving process. While I was listening to the podcast, I did think, Wow, actually, when I die at the age of 103, I would like it if my family dressed me in my nicest outfit at home and then bury me quickly in the backyard where they'd see my headstone every day. That would actually be nice. My second thought was -- Wow, absent her discussion of embalming and cremation, she is basically describing Ni-Vanuatu death practices to a T. It's because of this extreme disparity between American and Ni-Vanuatu culture surrounding death and funerals that this just has to be the first post.
In America, people might die at home or in the hospital. A doctor or a coroner has to pronounce the person dead, and if he or she dies at home, the police have to be called. If the dead person wanted to be an organ donor, some tissue might be retrieved. You call family and friends, and have the body taken to a funeral home. Typically the staff of the funeral home embalms the body, puts on makeup to look more natural, and puts the body in clothes selected by the family. Sometimes people hold wakes. Observant Jews will have a funeral very soon after death, but most other people will wait a certain amount of time so that all family can make the arrangements to come. The funeral might have several components. For example, for my grandfather Peter Gritis, there was a Catholic mass and an Elks ceremony in March, followed by a military burial at Arlington in July. We can and do have large gaps between when a person dies and when their body is buried, usually for family convenience but sometimes because of scheduling at a cemetery. And when burials happen, they happen in a coffin, sometimes with trinkets or mementos inside. There are prayers at the graveside, people might throw flowers, or the family might throw handfuls of dirt. Afterwards, usually there's a headstone, although sometimes people use crypts. In the case of cremation, the ashes will either be collected in a box, collected in a box and buried, or scattered somewhere scenic or meaningful. That's how we deal with death.
In Vanuatu, it's different. I'm going to describe death and funerals on Tongariki, but this is the general pattern in small villages in remote areas throughout the country. Most people die at home. This is because when people are very sick, doctors will encourage them to go home to die. It's not being heartless. When people from an outer island die in a remote hospital, their families usually will suffer an extreme financial burden to charter a boat or a plane to take their bodies back to their home village. This can be several thousand dollars, in a country where most people make their money through small scale agriculture. You don't call a doctor, because it's pretty obvious when someone is dead. The women of the family will wash the body immediately and wrap the body in cloth, and place the cloth on pandanas mats. The news goes around. That day, within a set of hours, everyone who has a relationship with the deceased or their family will come over to cry and wail. This will go on for hours as a sign of respect. You'll see some people are really bawling while some others aren't crying anymore, but they'll still wail. There are hymns and prayers. Afterwards, everyone will shake hands with the deceased's family. The village all eats together, and school is cancelled the next day out of respect.
The burial happens either the same day or the next morning. In one case, I heard of a burial that was delayed for three days because a child thought that their father was poisoned by magic, and this was considered extremely disrespectful on the child's part. Unlike the mourning part (which is called a ded), the burial is basically private. Often the burial will happen very close to the house. A friend of mine had her brother buried by their outdoor eating table, and they would decorate the tomb every year. The general style is to have a raised coffin-shaped cement block plus a headstone, or simply a cement headstone with the name written in.
There are some things that I think are better about funerals in Vanuatu. I think it's wonderful that grieving is communal. You never have a situation where there's a death in the family and people don't seem to know, or care. I think that there is something that is more humane about how deaths happen at home, and how people bury their dead nearby. I don't think that this is possible for us, since except for Native Americans, none of us have kastom land, the way Ni-Vanuatu do. But I think it's beautiful, and I think it underlies the tie to the land and the space.
On the other hand, I think that it's better that in America we have our time to have funerals and say our respects. I find it very sad how many deds I've been to where the deceased died somewhere else, and the family found out a few days later but wasn't able to attend because the burial had to be held that day. A good friend of mine had her father die on another island, and, of course, she wasn't able to attend. Maybe we'd be better psychologically if we all got together and grieved/mourned/wailed it out for four hours communally, rather than spreading our grief out, bit by bit, but at least daughters in America can typically attend their father's funerals.
I want to start with something pretty heavy, which is death and funerals.
I'm choosing death and funerals for several reasons. One is that I listened to this absolutely bonkers/great Fresh Air podcast this weekend called A Mortician Talks Openly About Death and Wants You To Too. The mortician in question wants Americans to be more comfortable with death, to have wakes, to accompany their dead family members to the crematory, to eschew embalming, to use degradable shrouds to bury their dead, et cetera. She believes that practices that let living family members come into closer contact with their dead are more natural, healthy, and conducive to a successful grieving process. While I was listening to the podcast, I did think, Wow, actually, when I die at the age of 103, I would like it if my family dressed me in my nicest outfit at home and then bury me quickly in the backyard where they'd see my headstone every day. That would actually be nice. My second thought was -- Wow, absent her discussion of embalming and cremation, she is basically describing Ni-Vanuatu death practices to a T. It's because of this extreme disparity between American and Ni-Vanuatu culture surrounding death and funerals that this just has to be the first post.
In America, people might die at home or in the hospital. A doctor or a coroner has to pronounce the person dead, and if he or she dies at home, the police have to be called. If the dead person wanted to be an organ donor, some tissue might be retrieved. You call family and friends, and have the body taken to a funeral home. Typically the staff of the funeral home embalms the body, puts on makeup to look more natural, and puts the body in clothes selected by the family. Sometimes people hold wakes. Observant Jews will have a funeral very soon after death, but most other people will wait a certain amount of time so that all family can make the arrangements to come. The funeral might have several components. For example, for my grandfather Peter Gritis, there was a Catholic mass and an Elks ceremony in March, followed by a military burial at Arlington in July. We can and do have large gaps between when a person dies and when their body is buried, usually for family convenience but sometimes because of scheduling at a cemetery. And when burials happen, they happen in a coffin, sometimes with trinkets or mementos inside. There are prayers at the graveside, people might throw flowers, or the family might throw handfuls of dirt. Afterwards, usually there's a headstone, although sometimes people use crypts. In the case of cremation, the ashes will either be collected in a box, collected in a box and buried, or scattered somewhere scenic or meaningful. That's how we deal with death.
In Vanuatu, it's different. I'm going to describe death and funerals on Tongariki, but this is the general pattern in small villages in remote areas throughout the country. Most people die at home. This is because when people are very sick, doctors will encourage them to go home to die. It's not being heartless. When people from an outer island die in a remote hospital, their families usually will suffer an extreme financial burden to charter a boat or a plane to take their bodies back to their home village. This can be several thousand dollars, in a country where most people make their money through small scale agriculture. You don't call a doctor, because it's pretty obvious when someone is dead. The women of the family will wash the body immediately and wrap the body in cloth, and place the cloth on pandanas mats. The news goes around. That day, within a set of hours, everyone who has a relationship with the deceased or their family will come over to cry and wail. This will go on for hours as a sign of respect. You'll see some people are really bawling while some others aren't crying anymore, but they'll still wail. There are hymns and prayers. Afterwards, everyone will shake hands with the deceased's family. The village all eats together, and school is cancelled the next day out of respect.
The burial happens either the same day or the next morning. In one case, I heard of a burial that was delayed for three days because a child thought that their father was poisoned by magic, and this was considered extremely disrespectful on the child's part. Unlike the mourning part (which is called a ded), the burial is basically private. Often the burial will happen very close to the house. A friend of mine had her brother buried by their outdoor eating table, and they would decorate the tomb every year. The general style is to have a raised coffin-shaped cement block plus a headstone, or simply a cement headstone with the name written in.
There are some things that I think are better about funerals in Vanuatu. I think it's wonderful that grieving is communal. You never have a situation where there's a death in the family and people don't seem to know, or care. I think that there is something that is more humane about how deaths happen at home, and how people bury their dead nearby. I don't think that this is possible for us, since except for Native Americans, none of us have kastom land, the way Ni-Vanuatu do. But I think it's beautiful, and I think it underlies the tie to the land and the space.
On the other hand, I think that it's better that in America we have our time to have funerals and say our respects. I find it very sad how many deds I've been to where the deceased died somewhere else, and the family found out a few days later but wasn't able to attend because the burial had to be held that day. A good friend of mine had her father die on another island, and, of course, she wasn't able to attend. Maybe we'd be better psychologically if we all got together and grieved/mourned/wailed it out for four hours communally, rather than spreading our grief out, bit by bit, but at least daughters in America can typically attend their father's funerals.
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