Sis' Funeral

Your ‘Songs for the Dead’ was a great rendition of village life, Cent. I had had a similar experience in Ban Uppernowheresville (my wife's village) 135km to the east of Nong Khai. This was a while back, about 2 years ago, but parts of it stick with me.

My wife is one of 11 children and had one older sister. From the stories she's told me about her Sis, she was an energetic and high tempered lady. Among the stories was how she married a Thai guy who at one point went to work in Singapore doing who knows what. He came back later and it turns out he had gotten AIDs while there. Also it turns out that she, sister, had gotten AIDs from him after his return. Apparently this pissed her off and in retribution she took a knife and whacked off his willy. This was a REAL feed the ducks story. The guy died of AIDs some short time later and older sister hooked up with another Thai guy. No news as to his fate.

Sis got sicker and sicker, and sometime in November 2001 we trekked up to the village to see her and take care of financial matters in anticipation of her imminent demise. My wife is more or less the one in charge of money matters for the family and settles the squabbling of who gets how much. Part of that duty included convincing Sis to divulge her ATM PIN number and who would get how much (of the 50,000 baht account) before Sis dies.

One afternoon everyone of the large family was gathered to visit with her as she didn't have many days left. I remember Sis stretched out on a floor mat looking quite gaunt and so tired she could barely speak - very sad. This was also a pre-party event. That night was the Lao style party complete with live band on the back of a flatbed truck. I believe this was only the second time I'd met my wife's family and I really participated in the party that night. Hey, Lao Khao isn't that bad after a pint of Mekong whisky is it? So what the hell, and if it has a bit of a foul after-taste, just follow it with some Chang beer.

Well, "what the hell" was about right, as the next morning I was indeed IN HELL. I think I wrote about that fun and purgatory some time ago.

Then in December Sis died. We again trekked northward for the funeral. During the day thereof, it was divulged to everyone (who hadn't already guessed) that she had died of AIDs. There was the early afternoon pre-funeral party followed by a monk’s appearance and the droning mumbling of the Buddhist ceremony. Sis was housed in a somewhat ornate wooden coffin in the family room on the ground floor of a shop house style house. I remember thinking that the white coffin had the looks of a cross between 1890s Victorian style house trimming and the decorations on a fancy wedding cake. After the monks ceremony it was loaded onto a cart and towed by a neighbor with a rice field tractor to the very rudimentary local Wat slash burning area.

A half hour later we packed much of the family in the rental car and drove a short distance to the burning/cremation area. Basically an ornate cement block house with a patio next to a rough dirt patch in the middle of a field of tall grass. The coffin was already on top of the cement burning pyre. Everyone assembled under the hot sun in the dirt patch, and I didn't see much in the way of ceremony happening until everyone spontaneously gathered closer to the coffin. Some offered flowers and incense, some stood around and said private prayers, and the rest of us watched.

The coffin was then torched and was quickly engulfed. I was stuck with a profound sadness watching it burn. Something about BURNING struck me with such a sense of finality. Not a logical thought, but a strong one. I did take some pictures before and during the burning, nobody minded. It burned for about 10 minutes leaving a smoldering heap of ashes, then everyone began filing out of the dirt patch and we went back to the village home to eat.

That evening was another party but without the live band. I committed to NOT touch any Lao Khao regardless of the taunting, teasing, and aggressive suggestion to "do it again". "Ben-wa" is Lao for 'drink up' and I'd been dubbed that due to my previous show. Instead I kept with the Mekong whiskey and Chang beer, to wake up with only a headache rather than to a living hell.

Throughout both these visits I really didn't see much mourning or crying, and was surprised at the frequent parties accompanying what I thought would have been a more solemn time.

The interesting thing is that when I developed the film after we got back home to Pattaya in the center of three of the shots I took of the coffin while it was sitting atop the pyre, was a large white glow. It wasn't from the sun and wasn't a reflection or glare either. My wife said it was Sis's spirit. I don't know, but it sure wasn't in the viewfinder when I shot the film, and the white glow wasn't in other pictures on the roll. Go figure.

Life and customs are sure interesting in the Isan sticks.

Raul Duke

© Raul Duke, 2009. All rights reserved by the author.