On Death in Mexico

What is culture exactly? Is it language, tradition, the holidays we celebrate or the God we worship? We talk about cultural differences but I tended to minimize them or at least I did before coming to Mexico. I am finding that culture is more than practice or habit. It is deeper. I recently got a good look at how we are different when I was invited to a funeral. There is a saying that you can learn a lot about a people by the way they deal with death.

One of my coworkers lost his father a few weeks ago. The funeral was the next day. I am still not exactly sure why I was invited but I joined my coworkers in leaving the office for the cemetery. The first observation was how this overruled everything else. There were no discussions, no plans. A coworker lost his father, all meetings were off and we were going. We are doing the most important project in the company but no one needed to ask. Family obviously comes before work. A member of the team lost a member of his family and that was obviously more important to all of us.

When we arrived at the viewing, we all stood around the room forming a kind of circle looking at the family. There we stood offering silent support while the family grieved. They sang religious songs, prayed, comforted his widow, cried and started again. For two hours, we stood silently while family and friends assuaged the most raw and painful emotions imaginable. No one spoke about him. This wasn’t about him; this was about comforting his wife and children. After a while a priest came offering a mass and communion. After his words of comfort about the coming kingdom, the coffin was carried out and we silently departed this mourning chamber for the burial.

After a somber procession, we all stood around the grave. No words were spoken. The coffin was carried over and lowered into the ground. Again there were no platitudes, no words on his life or his meaning. I expected this to be the end, with us filing away but no one moved. Then came a line of workers. With the family watching, they sealed him in the ground with concrete slabs. Before the last slab was placed, his daughters threw a little dirt or a rose in the cavity with sobs of “adios papa.” Then the buckets of mortar were brought to seal the slabs. Then another layer of slabs, more mortar. Lastly the gravediggers shoveled the dirt on the grave and huge piles and arrangements of flowers were placed. Telmex, his employer for many years, sent the two largest arrangements each was over 6 ft in diameter. A few led what can only be described as cheers for the deceased. Everyone then filed quietly away. Somber. So very final… He is gone. You saw the body, you felt the grief, you saw the coffin sealed in the ground. It is over.

I can’t help but thinking they have it closer to right.