Latest update April 19th, 2024 12:59 AM
Oct 26, 2014 News
By Ralph Seeram
This article would be of interest to those Guyanese in the Diaspora who have not been visiting their homeland as often as they should. I just returned from Guyana after attending the funeral of a relative. Things have changed so much when it comes to funerals and especially wakes in Guyana.
What is your recollection of a typical wake in Guyana? Maybe there were family, friends and neighbors coming to share their sympathy with the bereaved. Wake nights basically consist of the host providing coffee and biscuits, in some case some “cook up” rice. Naturally the men will walk with their rum as they spend most of the night playing dominoes and cards.
You may recall that there were also “professional wake house singers” who drop in to keep mourners lively during the night. Well my friends as the old Guyanese song goes “dis time na lang time”, that was then.
CULTURE SHOCK
Normally one gets a culture shock when one leaves one’s homeland to take up residence in a society like the USA or Canada. That is expected. What you don’t expect is getting a culture shock when you visit your own country. I got such a shock that even as I am writing this article I have not got over it.
As expected, after arriving in the Country I went to the “dead house”. As the women were greeting and sobbing over the loss, I saw some smoke coming from the backyard. Curiously I went to investigate, only to be confronted by a cow cut into four quarters and hung under the house. In my mind I am thinking, oh they must have slaughtered a cow for sale to make some extra money.
Folks imagine my shock when I was told “no it’s for the wake”.
“You kill a whole cow for a wake?” I asked in disbelief. “Yes, it’s two nights of wake and we expect a lot of people, we have to cook a lot of food.” the relative explained.
“You don’t serve coffee and biscuits anymore?”
“No; that was lang time” she explained.
Hours later I returned to the “wake”. It was more like a party atmosphere with music blaring, though mostly gospel, and that was the nearest thing to religion. There was a bar, a bottle of liquor on each table, and there were quite a few tables, everyone engaged in their own conversations.
There was beer, vodka, whiskey, brandy and of course Guyanese staple, rum. The “licka” was free and the men made sure it flowed freely. At the back of the house, on two makeshift firesides were large wedding house type pots of food. As I said the alcohol was free, but I was informed that at some wake, a bar is set up where you can make your purchases.
FOOD
The food was served in restaurant-style food boxes. So what was the menu? You had cook up rice, roti, curry, phularie, souse, boiled channa and other dishes made with beef.
For some of the “mourners” it would seem as if there was a take away service, as I observed some of them requesting boxes of food to take home, some secretly packing their bags with food, as the servers passed around, not knowing who were served already.
Of note there was only one table playing dominoes, no tables with cards. Times have changed. No “Rock of Ages” hymns etc.
I tried to make a mental count of the persons there and memorized their faces, because I planned to see how many would turn up to the funeral the next day. I inquired from the son of the deceased why the big “sport” at the wake. He replied, “This is how we do it in the village.” This was the Upper Corentyne area.
In the old days you never see much children at wakes, it was mostly an adult affair, not now, I can discerned that there were entire family at the wake little children and all. The wake seems to be more like an outing than mourning.
FUNERAL
So it is funeral day and I am deciding, long sleeve shirt or short sleeve, considering the heat, and mosquitoes. I opted for short sleeves. The funeral was a more solemn affair. There was the singing of traditional funeral hymns, tributes to the deceased by persons who I am sure never complimented the deceased with the attributes while she was alive.
I think some of the young ladies were a bit confused about if they were going to a funeral or to a club. From the outfits they were wearing, they were more suited for a party than funeral; some I observed were uncomfortable sitting, keeping their legs tightly crossed. Trouble was, those dresses were so short, there was no room to cover anything. They kept pulling down their dresses, but the fabric had already reached the limits of stretching.
Those dresses and skirts were more suited for the ambiance of a night club.
I did look to see if those attending the wake, attended the funeral, as expected half of them did not turn up for the funeral, especially the imbibers. Never the less, my sister-in-law had a great turn out; she was well known and loved in her village. It’s a pity she could not hear those glowing tributes. Some would argue she did in spirit.
The officiating Pastor was a very dynamic preacher who ‘told it as it is”, recalling instances where families fought over “who got what” even before the dead was buried. He suggested the living make peace with their “enemy” as death cannot be postponed.
Looking back I think the wake was not a bad idea. A party style wake is the way to go, celebrating not mourning. Come to think about it that’s the way I would want it— soca and reggae, no “Rock of Ages” and “Nearer my God to Thee”. Party like a wedding reception.
Ralph Seeram can be reached at: [email protected] and Facebook.
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