Marulaon funeral

Friday, August 13

Last night around 11:30, I heard lots of shouting and banging and assumed that somebody had been drinking too much Solbrew again. In less than an hour, the shouting had been replaced by the wailing I've come to dread hearing, and I knew that somebody had died. A little after six this morning, I crept down to water my bell peppers and Chinese cabbage and heard a woman crying, "Ngavovou" (my son). When I finished watering, I went down to return Eileen's plate with some pumpkin bread on it and to find out who had died.

I discovered that Jakob, a young man of 25, had gone spear fishing at night with his uncle. While they were fishing, a crocodile had attacked the young man. His uncle was able to follow the crocodile and kick it until it released Jakob, but the reptile had inflicted fatal head wounds. So, we spent part of the morning crying with the family, and Aaron went to help the men dig the grave. Death here isn't sterile and distant, it's too frequent and real. As I sat in the house with the family, one of the aunties fanned the body to keep away the flies. Once again, our neighbors asked us for nails to build the coffin. Aaron frequently jokes that we are the local hardware store, but I wish the nails had a different purpose.

The funeral was around 3:30, Aaron and the big kids attended while I stayed home with a sleeping Katherine. When she woke up, I finished radio sked with SITAG and then the two of us joined the funeral down at the burial site. Afterwards, Olivia, Katherine and I walked down to Eileen's house to story for a few minutes. When Eileen discovered that we had been down to the grave, she quickly looked at our feet. She saw that Olivia was barefooted and that I was wearing flip-flops, so she asked if Olivia had walked to the burial site barefooted. At the affirmative reply, she hastened to tell Olivia to go wash her feet in the saltwater. I asked if this was their custom, and she replied that it was. We still have a lot to learn.