Funerals in Thailand, certainly in rural Thailand, are a community affair. They are either held in the home of the deceased or in the neighbourhood temple or sometimes across the two. They can last anywhere between 3 and 7 days. Sometimes even longer. During this time posters are often put up around the town announcing the deceased’s passing and the funeral, and it seems as if anyone is welcome to attend. There are various ceremonies that happen over the course of the funeral proceedings such as anointing the body with water, blessings by monks, offerings being made and the eventual cremation ritual. But these events are usually the domain of close relatives and friends, the rest of the time is for anyone who wishes to attend.
When people arrive, they will generally first give an offering of incense to the usually elaborately displayed coffin. Then they will sit at a table and will be served a vast quantity of food. Each table will have at least one curry, a vegetable dish, a Chinese style meat dish, a soup, fresh vegetables, naam prik and rice. Often after the meal there will be sweets, tea, snacks and pea nuts. There is also often (despite signs put up around the temple) whiskey and beer. I have been to some funerals where the whiskey is poured from a teapot! After the meal is finished, people leave quickly (unless they have started on the tea pot), but first will leave a donation towards the cost of the funeral. In return they will often receive a small gift of a pen, a glass or tiger balm or something similar. Much like a wedding favour.
The family and local community all work tirelessly throughout the duration of the funeral. The local women immediately take over all cooking and cleaning. Lines of them will sit cackling away to each other tackling mounds of washing up. The food is served and cleared usually by younger members of the family. The closest male relative (ie son) or daughter if there is none, acts as host. They greet each table and direct food over to it.
None of the close family ever seems to take a break for the whole duration of the funeral – often starting early in the morning and finishing late at night for several days on end. It actually seems an excellent way to tackle grief; they are simply too tired to mourn. But the whole event, for the large part, is a cheerful one. There is never a focus on the achievements of the life of the person as with western funerals - that is shown by the amount and the calibre of the people who attend. If the local mayor turns up to your funeral, you did good. People come, pray, eat, socialise, leave. They are Buddhists after all, what is there to mourn for? Another cycle has been completed. As most people live within close communities here in the south, they are just as likely to see a birth happen the next day, or a wedding at the weekend.
In general my experiences of Thai funerals have always been good. There was the wildly bizarre funeral that culminated in fireworks, a disco and coyote girls, quite a few drunken funerals and so much good food. In fact I blame my mother-in-law’s weight problems on her near constant attendance at funerals. But there are the sad funerals too.
A cousin of M’s had died whilst having a caesarean section with twins. When I heard the circumstances of the death, I was quite shocked. I had never attended such a tragic funeral in England. But when we arrived, it was incredibly light hearted. A lot of conversation revolved around the actual death, Thai’s will never shy away from the gruesome details (the body after all is only flesh). In addition the doctor who performed the surgery was suspected of malpractice which provided a great amount of gossip, here-say and discussion. I suspect that the Thai attitude to her death was that it was lucky the twins were born healthy, and that they would focus on that. My only maudlin memory of the day was seeing the woman’s teenage son. Often the eldest son will become a monk for a period of time after one of his parents die. Her son must have been about 14. He was dressed in his elaborate novice robes and his shell-shocked face stood out even more starkly due to his freshly shaved eyebrows and head. My heart went out to him. His twin siblings after all would never know who they had lost.
We also recently attended the funeral of one of M’s school friends. I had never met him, but had heard about their antics at school. He was known as a vibrant, friendly, ‘jai dee’ guy. Before we arrived we were told he had committed suicide, but knew no details. We arrived and instead of sitting in the main dining hall with the older relatives, we went and sat in the hall where the coffin was, where all of his friends had gathered. About 5 of his friends were sleeping in the hall with him. They would constantly top up his offerings of food and beer whilst we were here, and it honestly felt like we were there keeping him company. We learnt more about the circumstances of his death and how 3 people were suspected of covering up his murder. As we sat there various people arrived to give offerings and pray. Quite a few sat in stunned silence with tears in their eyes taking in the sudden loss. This was the first funeral I had been to where I too felt sad, although I hadn’t known him. It was obvious that many people felt his loss, I had been to enough funerals to know that grief is not shown lightly.
Comparing Thai funerals to western funerals is very hard for me, considering I think I have only been to a handful a funerals in the UK– a sign of how fractured our communities are now.
There does feel a lack of attention to the life of the person in Thailand, when you look around seeing people chatting and laughing, it is hard to feel like you are really meant to be mourning. But also you have to respect the fact that Thais are truly not scared of death the way that we are, therefore why would they mourn? Death is just another step in the cycle of life and rebirth, it will come to us all. I remember my grandmother’s funeral being a typically catholic event, hymns, sermons, incense, flowers. I didn’t feel any attachment to the events, but it was something my grandmother believed deeply in. But it is with happiness that I remember the nights around it spent with my family, eating, laughing, maybe crying a bit. Thai’s seem to embrace the social aspects at a funeral as being the most important part, kind of like a wake with only half a mass. I am not sure that this is such a bad thing, after all everyone remembers a person in their own way and ultimately everyone grieves on their own.
