Today I want to write about Ethiopian (at least Amhara and Tigre) funerary rituals. My close cousin’s son died about a week ago — a tragic affair in which the young man was found drowned in a public pool. The circumstances were suspicious which complicated the funeral arrangements. This was on top of the typically difficult process involved in such rituals in Ethiopia which is what I want to talk about. I have three complaints: the public pressure, the cost, and the bitter grieving expected.
Funerals are definitely a public event for Ethiopians. The ones happening among those of us in the Diaspora are even more so than the ones back in the home country. There the magnitude of the problem was so bad that public employees were required to limit funeral leaves to one day only, the day of the actual burial (they used to last for weeks, especially where close relatives are involved). The problem is, of course, quite complicated by the traditional and religious obligations of the agrieved family who has to “sit” and recieve mourning guests for as long as they keep arriving. And being an agrarian society with undeveloped transportation infrastructure, this could take weeks if not months. The Church also requires ritual activities at three days, six months, one year, and every ten years after the funeral wich further extends the period of mourning. Much of this process has continued with the Ethiopian Diaspora community, at least in the US.
All this, of course, adds up to incredible costs that must be borne by the surviving family. Granted, the more people participate the more donations and help also comes in, but it rarely does such help add up to the actual cost. In a socieity where western style death/life insurance is not part of the culture, many families are bankrupted by deaths, especially when it’s the breadwinner. On the other hand, communities in Ethiopia have come up with thier own types of associations where money is collected for members monthly and used to pay for, at least part of, such costs and to take care of the feeding of large crowds that gather on the day of the funeral. One would expect that those of us in the West would have insurance coverage for such costs. But that is not the case for most natives, let alone transpanted communities like ours. One can only imagine the astronomical costs of trying to maintain the traditionaly ways within a western economy and without insurance!
The worst part of all this is the bitter grieving expected (by the self-invited public) from the family. There is lip-service made to the value of “letting it all out” — so to speak. But is that what a mourning mother or father needs, for the gossipy gawking public that mills around for days eating and drinking for free to comment on how well they are grieving? The ritual may have made more sense once when people walked for miles to come and pay their respects, walked to Church with the mourners and met with throngs who were at the Church for other reasons, when people did not expect expensive alcohol and gourmet food as if the berieved were part of the royal family. Today, and especially among the Diaspora, there is a tendency to live these fantasies at the expense of an emotionally devestated family.
What a shame! Our community needs to look at itself and find ways, like our relatives back home did, to streamline the process and be helpful, not burdensome, to those who deserve our respect and love.
