2 Jun 2013
I
thought last week was an anomaly: my well planned blog was hijacked by the
events of the week, but that was a onetime thing; it certainly won’t happen
again. Wrong. This week has been a whirlwind culminating yesterday. I will try
to do it justice. I’ll start with work.
I
have to say my work is everything I hoped it would be. There are a lot of
challenges, and we are far from where we ultimately want to be. However, I do
think we are building some foundational pieces that will carry us to the future
we envision. We had our first Management Council Meeting, our Board meeting. I
have heard from several sources there can be some pretty good emotional fireworks
at these meetings from time to time. This one could not have gone smoother.
When I entered the room several of the Board members, who I had previously met,
stood, welcomed me and asked me to sit with them. So rather than sitting off to
the side with the other staff members, I sat in the middle of the Board. During
the meeting they turned several times to me and asked my opinion. They always
seemed curious to know my perspective, paid attention to what I said, and gave
my comments serious consideration.
So,
Tuesday was in some ways the height of my professional life here. Friday was
probably the most fun. Friday afternoon we had a team building activity planned
by human resources. After work we went as a group to see a movie, Yeh Jawani
Hai Deewani, which is the latest hit from Bollywood. The movie was a lot of
fun, except for the fact it was nearly three hours of Hindi. Without subtitles.
The good news is that I did enjoy the music and dance numbers (Hey, it’s a
Bollywood movie. There are ALWAYS music and dance numbers). I have even found
myself humming/half singing one of the main songs. It really is only half
singing since, A) I don’t know Hindi and 2) I can’t really sing. So maybe it is
somewhat less than half singing. Oh, by the way Rae, you can rest easy. They
have popcorn at Indian movies.
Shifting
now to the other major part of my life: Church service. Thursday we went out to
visit some members. We drove to a community about half an hour away. When we
got there it turned out they had Thursday Market, which means dozens and dozens
of merchants had set up temporary stalls or mobile carts along the sides of both
the main road into the community and on side streets and literally thousands of
people were swarming around. Trying to drive into the housing complex was a bit
of a challenge. We left our car and went in on foot. I kind of felt like I was
back in Japan with the little kids running alongside of us, staring at me and
jabbering.
Once
we got into the complex we met with three young men, friends who had all joined
the Church at the same time. Well, we actually met one of them first and when
he found all three of us from the Branch Presidency had come he called his
friends to join us. He then decided there wasn’t enough room so we moved to his
family business: a beauty parlor. Ladies, this is not the beauty parlor you
might be envisioning but at least there were enough seats for everyone.
We
had a good visit with the three of them and then moved onto meet a family that
also lives in the same housing complex. This is a family that had caught Rae’s
and my eye when we visited in February. They are a young good looking couple with
two beautiful, young children. Their love for each other was obvious. The
father told us how they came to join the Church. He said that he used to not
care that much for his family; he was angry all the time and had little
patience for his wife and their then one child. He would work long hours, come
home, and resented any time or energy they required of him.
One
day he was walking down the street and he saw some missionaries talking to
someone. At first he thought to hassle them; to yell at them or somehow drive
them away. He walked over to them, stood there listening to them, waiting for
the right moment to rip into them. As it turned out, he got involved in a conversation
with one of the Elders. Ultimately the missionary invited him to come to
Church. He didn’t go the next Sunday and the missionary called him to say he
had been missed. He promised he would come the next week, although he was
really nervous about it. He was uncertain how he would be received by these
people he didn’t know at all. Well the next Sunday he went and he said it was
not like anything he anticipated. He felt welcomed, warm, loved and “right”
from the beginning. He said the spirit there was not like anything he had ever
experienced. Long story short, he and his wife took the lessons from the
missionaries, they joined the Church, and his life has not been the same since.
He will be made an Elder this next week and his family’s goal is to be sealed
in the Temple as soon as possible. It’s hard to believe this man who exudes
love for his family is the same man who a couple of years ago resented any time
he had to spend with them.
So
now we get to yesterday, which is really the only part of the week that
actually justifies the dream reference in the blog title. Dream as in, “Is this
really happening or I am I dreaming?” I had the day planned. I was going to go
into the office for a couple of hours. After that, I was going to stop by an educational
expo, where we had a booth; stop by the store to pick up a few necessities and
then back to the house to relax for the rest of the day. Easy peasy, right?
Yeah, right.
As
I was driving to the office, I got a call from our Branch President Juriel. Do
you remember the family I talked about last week; the teenage girl who wants to
join the Church? Her father died unexpectedly Friday night. President Juriel
had just found out about it. He asked if I could go with him to visit the
family. I said I could early in the afternoon; after I went to the education
expo. So, when I left the expo, I gave him a call. He said the man, a Hindu,
had already been cremated earlier that day and we should go visit the family
later in the week. However, he said, “you aren’t going to believe this but we’ve
had another brother in the Branch just die. I just got a call from the Elders.
Can you go over there with me right away?” I said I could, and we agreed to
meet at the Church in twenty minutes.
I
made it to the Church before him and after I was there a couple of minutes I
got a call from him. He asked me to go the computer and start writing the
letter. I told him I had no idea what letter he was talking about. It turns out
in India, if you are Christian; you have to a letter from your Church attesting
that you are a Christian, so you can be buried in one of the Christian
cemeteries. Otherwise, your body will be cremated. So I started to write the
letter and had it mostly done when President Juriel got there. We finished it;
printed it on Church letterhead, and jumped in the car to rush to the mortuary.
We had to have the body released, delivered to the cemetery, and buried by 6:30. It was now 3:30.
We
drove over to the “mortuary”. His brother and the men in the family were standing
or milling around a narrow alleyway between the mortuary and the street. The
women in the family were sitting on the floor in an expanding semi-circle
around the young man’s body (he was 26), which was lying on a pallet covered
with a sheet. After several minutes’ discussion with the owner of the mortuary,
he reluctantly agreed the paperwork was in order and the body could be released
for burial instead of being cremated. Time was running out, it was now 4:30; we
still had to get the body clear across New Delhi, finalize the arrangements for
the burial, and get him buried before 6:30. So we left the First Counselor and two of the
missionaries with the family to arrange things at the mortuary. I jumped into
our car (remember it a Honda City, the equivalent of a Civic) with: our driver,
the Branch President, two missionaries, and the Branch Mission Leader. Six
people in a car that holds four comfortably, five if three or more of them are
smallish.
An
hour later we are at the cemetery. Again we have several minutes of paperwork
review and confirmation. Apparently you really don’t want to bury a
non-Christian in a Christian graveyard. And then we started to wait. The grave
had not been dug yet and of course the family had not arrived with the body.
The grave diggers were straight out of the New Delhi Players presentation of
Hamlet. Using hand tools, they opened the grave previously sealed with concrete.
The grave plots are used repeatedly by the same family. After at least five
years the grave can be reopened and another body buried there. I watched as
they laughed and joked (well two of them did) the third one actually did all of
the work, digging down far enough that this burial could be done but not so far
as to uncover the prior occupant. Finally, they picked up their picks and
mattocks and left.
It
was now after 6:00 and no sign of the family and the body. We talked to the
manager of the cemetery who agreed that he would hold the cemetery open if they
arrived by 6:30. If not, the body would be taken back and cremated. Just before
6:30 they arrived: fifty or sixty people following an ambulance carrying the
body. There apparently are no hearses in India, so when a body needs to be
transported they use an ambulance. The body, now in a plywood casket, was
carried to a table in the middle of an open patio area. Once all the family
gathered, the Branch President called on the First Counselor to offer a prayer
and then he said a few words to the family. The body was then carried to the
plot. Once we got there, I saw that two posts had been laid across the open
grave with two large ropes lying next to them. The casket was placed on top of
the two posts. I had been asked by the Branch President to dedicate the grave,
so after the family gathered around I said that I wanted to say a few words and
asked him to translate for me. I spoke for a few minutes about the plan of
salvation and the atonement of Christ, pausing every sentence of so for
President Juriel to translate. After that, I dedicated the grave.
As
I finished four men grabbed the ropes, lifted the casket, and slid the poles
away. Then the casket was lowered carefully, slowly down by the ropes. At this
point President Juriel leaned over to me and said, “When the casket is totally
lowered, you will be expected to throw the first handful of dirt onto the
casket.” Once I had done that, one by one people came forward and also threw a
handful of dirt onto the casket. When everyone had done so, the grave diggers reappeared
and finished filling the grave and mounding the dirt on top of it. Then the
flowers started being laid: strand after strand, and pile after pile of orange/gold
carnations, until the whole mound was covered. As we walked off, one of the
family members, about my age, stopped me and with tears in his eyes thanked me
for my message to the family and for dedicating the grave. That made the whole
surreal day worthwhile.
While
waiting, I learned a lot about death and funerals in India. Hindus nearly
always cremate their dead within 24 hours of death. That is why the father I
mentioned first was cremated so soon after his death. Typically women are not
invited to a Hindu funeral, it is a rite reserved for men. After the cremation,
the ashes are ideally scattered into one of a number of spiritually significant
rivers, the Ganges being the most famous and the most significant. Muslims and Christians
both typically bury their dead, although space in these cemeteries is limited.
If accommodation cannot be made quickly, these bodies are cremated too. Also,
an increasing number of Christians (less so with Muslims, apparently) are
choosing cremation as well. In every case, burial or cremation has to occur
quickly because bodies are not embalmed.
Here
is a picture of the cemetery where the burial occurred yesterday. Note that
even though the bodies are buried, each grave is covered with some form of
concrete covering.
As
we drove back from the funeral (with the same crowd stuffed into the back seat)
our driver Mehndi (who is getting quite familiar with members of the Branch
Presidency and the missionaries) said to President Juriel in Hindi, “Why do you
keep taking him to these places? You should be taking him to places like Agra
(where the Taj Mahal is located) or some temples or shrines.” I had to laugh
when I heard that later. It definitely has not been the typical tourist sites
the last couple of weeks.
So
that I don’t end on what many will think is a macabre topic, Let me review
today. I conducted Sacrament meeting; I taught the gospel doctrine Sunday school
class without preparation or advanced notice because the teacher did not show
up; and this afternoon we had a baptism, which I was asked to conduct and at
which I was asked to speak and give a welcome from the Branch. A fairly productive
day. So, in one week I have ordained someone to the Priesthood, dedicated a
grave and presided at a baptism. I guess my desire to be used by the Lord here
in India is coming to pass.
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