It all started on Sunday afternoon when my friend Khady called me and told me her grandma had died. Her grandma was like a mom to her. I knew I needed to go to this even though it was about two hours away in a village I had never been to. It was decided at 8:30am Monday morning that my househelp would come with me and we needed to leave in an hour. We left at 9:30 am and took a taxi to a big yard where there were bigger taxis waiting to take people places. We squeezed in the back of car called a Sept place ( It is like a station wagon but 3 people sit in the trunk, 3 in the back seat and one in the front, thus the name seven places). We rode for about an hour and a half until we got to another city, took another Sept place to another smaller city and then took another car into the village. This time it was just us in the car. We drove on dirt roads much like the side roads in Colorado to this village but on the side of the road were horse drawn carts carrying people on the back bed (Bush taxis). We got to Khady’s village at 12:30.
Her grandpa had a big plot of land in which he lived with his 3 wives. Each wife had a her own section of the land for her and her family. There were probably close to 6 different concrete buildings on the compound. The compound was surrounded by a concrete wall as was many of the other compounds surrounding it. The homes near by were all owned by different uncles of Khady. The men were seen hanging out at her uncles homes and the women were seen at her grandma’s home. Everyone was found under trees or rented tents to protect them from the sun. Women were cooking over big pots over the fire preparing the meal for the afternoon. Shortly after arriving we were introduced to the many aunts, cousins and sisters of Khady. Some of her aunts were nuns. I got to see her grandma’s kitchen. It was a building with a very short doorway and thatched roof. One small window the size of a book. There was a hen laying eggs in the corner, big pots over fires, basins made of clay that are able to cool the water in them, big calabash bowls and different types of mortars and pestles for pounding different types of food. We were served the meal shortly after greeting everyone. It was served in a huge basin and everyone ate around that basin with their hands or with spoons.
We then went into her grandma’s home and saw the casket which was set up in her grandma’s room. It was a plain wood box covered by black and white weaved fabric. This is a special fabric used for funerals and babies. We walked up to the casket, Khady opened it and her grandma was covered in a head wrap and scarf. Only her nose and eyes showed. Then Khady told me we needed to walk around the casket. It wasn’t ok just to walk up to it. After seeing her grandma we sat on the bed in the room next store, ate lunch and hung out until the funeral procession started around 3pm. The funeral procession started by some men coming to carry the casket just under a tent outside the home. There the priest prayed and chanted in Wolof, the local tribal language and blessed the casket with holy water. This water was in a old rusty metal pot and was sprayed on the casket with a flower branch. Then they put the casket into the back of an ambulance and we walked behind it singing to the church. At the entrance of the church the casket was put on a stand outside while more singing and praying was done. Then it was put in the front of the church. The church service was done in Wolof complete with choir, pipe organ and communion. There were over 200 people there. The church was simple with wooden benches without backs and paintings of the stations of the cross around the walls. The paintings were with African people coming to Jesus and others participating in the crucifixion. What a reminder, we are all responsible for Christ’s death. After the service, they blessed the casket with holy water and then the casket was taken out of the church to the cemetery. The cemetery was in the back of the church. The crowd followed the casket to the cemetery. I didn’t get to see this process as my friend did not want to be there for it.
We went back to her house to figure out a ride back to Dakar. There were no public cars that left there and we had missed the only bus. Praise God her aunt had come from a near by town with her car and had room to take us with her. It was the only car I saw at the funeral. I was afraid I would have had to take a bush taxi or spend the night there. 🙂
After the crowd returned from the cemetery the immediate family sat under a tent and received all the guests. Each guest gave their condolences and dropped money into a basin in front of the family. The guests were then given a snack of crackers, mints and couscous balls. They then were served a meal shortly afterward. Each meal we were given was either rice or couscous on the bottom of the basin with a baseball sized portion of meat in the middle. We left shortly after. We were taken to a near by town by her aunt and we took a Sept place to Dakar from there. We got home at 9:30pm at night. A long day but well worth it for the experience and to show my friend she meant a lot to me. It was so good to see where she grew up and hear many stories of her family. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera. Thus there are no pictures.