derek, you mentioned a while back that this should be an interesting experience. Absolutely.
Thanks for the description smell the glove.
I participated in my wife’s grandfather’s funeral in Chiayi a year or two ago and it was fascinating. I began writing a summary afterwards and had intended to post it here to share, but I never completed it. No strippers at this funeral, but lots of people covered in hooded outfits burning incense and bowing. Four funeral professionals led the ceremony, making odd snake-charmer like music, with the lead professional chanting something and mock sobbing, all under the tent that had been erected in front of the deceased’s now vacant house.
Everyone had a different colored/shaped hood with or without little ribbons, depending on whether you were a child, grandchild, niece, son-in-law, grandson-in-law, etc. I was given a hooded outfit in line with my relation and was told when to move forward, light incense, etc. People completely accepted me into the fold without undue staring or comments; it was easy to follow their lead and of course everyone was focused on teh dead man and the ritual, not on the one foreigner.
The most interesting part, I felt, was when the mourners, myself included, all took turns getting on our hands and knees and crawling into the house where teh coffin rested, in a circle around the coffin, heads down looking at the ground, and back outside again.
I was also asked to jump up in a blue truck where a mountain of ghost money was piled and help a few guys to undo the bundles, separate out the sheets and fold them so they burn better, and throw them in the immmense burn barrel, before they made a huge bonfire of it.
After many hours (my wife allowed me to fly down for just the last half of the ceremony; the entire thing must have been extremely lengthy) of the bowing, incense, weird music, fake sobbing and burning of ghost money, we finally formed a procession, with all the cars behind the truck making the loud funeral music, with the key relatives piled in the back of that truck, and we all headed out to the crematorium.
After a short visit there we returned to the deceased grandpa’s house and all the children (my wife’s parents, aunts and uncles) ate hearty bien dangs and chatted, neither drunken and exuberant nor somber and gloomy. He was very old, his death was a long time coming and I think there was some relief it had finally happened and the necessary rites had been performed so people could close that chapter and move on. They then cleaned the house, swept clean the front area and hosed it down, and the funeral cookies, sodas, fruit, etc that had formed part of the decorations were divied up between relatives to take home.