It is time now to burn some things for Mama’s use in the afterlife whatever that might be. During the course of my stay in China this most recent time, I felt like these concepts were being made up as we went along. I am certain something was lost in the translation somewhere. This is just another example of Chinese culture this dense laowai doesn’t “get.” Discussions of her particular afterlife range from living in another space for eternity that I interpret as heaven, becoming a ghost, and reincarnation.
We walk as a group (sans Mama’s side of the family who fled Brother’s earlier outburst) to a separate building on the far side of the funeral home’s property. There we continue up steps to a vast empty concrete walled area at the top. The wind is whipping around us as we trek across the concrete to the furnaces against the far wall. I said it was vast. The walk is probably a minute and a half. Brother is still holding the picture of Mama and will place it on top of her furnace.
I ask Ying, “So what’s with the military style funeral? Mama wasn’t in the military was she?”
“What was military about it?”
“Just the guns going off. That’s sort of a salute in the U.S. to fallen military members.”
“Oh really? I thought you guys always did it too. It’s just a sign of respecting. DId you like it?”
“Sure! It was just a surprise.”
As we approach the line of furnaces I see that each one has a corresponding carving of a Chinese zodiac sign above. Mama’s furnace is the Tiger. Her picture is balanced atop the furnace and the burning begins. The bag is opened and what seems like the equivalent of hundreds of thousands of dollars is being lit on fire and tossed inside the furnace. The aforementioned plastic fake gold plated watches and trinkets are being torched still in the plastic wrap in which they were purchased and placed inside. Thousands of pieces of brownish tissue paper with 12 holes cut out of each one representing a coin are burned a fistful at a time. Every family member pitches in with Brother and Baba staying and facilitating the full experience. There is some standing water and the blowing ashes quickly make an grey sludge-like mess.
None of Mama’s clothes are burned here and presumably this will happen at her final resting place. A couple of years ago, it came up that we have donated my grandparents’ clothes and belongings to the Goodwill after their deaths. I’d speculate this is a common practice in the U.S. unless the surviving family members are hoarders or something has sentimental value. Discovering this provoked some anxiety in Ying’s mind when we were doing a little bargain shopping there or later at one of Austin’s many vintage stores. But she got over it and moved on and has bought several outfits at these places. I don’t think it’s something she would ever tell her family.
I do my part in burning the money and gold, although, I fail to fully grasp the practice. That comes from being a westerner. Although, I am one who is not religious, I can’t deny the Judea-Christian influences over the course of my development. No matter how well-off one might be in life, I can’t imagine anyone in the U.S. feeling that material goods or money are needed in whatever they believe happens next. How does a blank piece of tissue paper get burned and work as money in the afterlife for Chinese? There is the belief that smoke is the way to transport it to the afterlife or even a way to communicate with the dead. But then I question, why not foolishly burn real money? Who designates this blank tissue paper works in the afterlife? It boggles my brain if I think too much of it all.
I notice some activity around the far corner. Some of the large flower arrangements as well as several smaller ones have been carried there. I walk over to a raging fire in an even larger furnace. The flower arrangements are being shoved inside, again presumably for Mama in the afterlife. I begin helping the cousins with this task and am honestly surprised how quickly the flowers burn. I nearly singe my arm at one point.
I look around and we are finished. No more arrangements. This is perplexing. We didn’t burn nearly as many arrangements as were on display in the room. And then I realize what has happened. We rented at least 3/4 of the flower arrangements on display! Most of the family members don’t have the resources for expensive arrangements. They had probably already given Baba a little money as is the custom anyway.
A quick question to Ying confirms my suspicions. And again she looks at me like I should know this sort of thing. Her final response on the matter, which I hear several more times over the coming weeks: “You KNOW that anything is possible in China!"
Yes, yes I do, dear.
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