The Funeral

Manit died on 5 September and on 6 September the entire day was spent at the Wat Damnak, not far from my house. On Friday 7 September, very early in the morning we gathered again at the temple for the cremation. As this was my first experience of a Cambodian funeral, I was not sure what to expect. As you must know Cambodia is a very poor country, so poor that there was no embalming done for Manit. His body was put into a coffin and covered with large bags of ice to slow the decomposition. This meant the funeral had to go on quickly. We gathered that morning, with all of mine and Manit's friends and family there. There were monks to do chants and then they prepared for the cremation by removing the bags of ice. Then his coffin was lifted and carried three times around the temple before being led to the crematorium. Once there, the lid was lifted off the coffin for us to take one last look at him. I could not do it, I could only lift my eyes enough and saw his foot and that was even too horrible to consider. Then, the coffin was lifted up and put into the fire and the doors closed. I don't know if I have ever felt so horribly sad and empty to know my dear friend was gone.

One of the more interesting things that I learned and experienced from the funeral was the stoic and unemotional reaction from all Cambodians attending, except for Manit's mother, sister etc. The others, including my staff who had worked with Manit for the past year and a half never showed any emotion about his death. I understand that it is their Buddhist nature but it was difficult to reconcile with my frequent crying jags. There point was that he must have had a bad life and the next life will be better. All I could see and feel that someone I cared so much about was gone.

Later that day there was a ceremony at Manit's family's house. I had not met Manit's mother before but Manit was so obviously her son, reflecting her grace and warmth. I found sometime to talk to her, with Sima as my translator. Sima, Manit's best friend, was a true rock during this time but I knew he was really hurting inside like I was. I told his Mother how much her son meant to me. I told her that I considered him my friend but almost like a son because he could make me so proud by the things he did and then could frustrate me with his carelessness or laziness. I wanted so much for him to be a part of my life here in Cambodia and that I hoped that he, like Sima, would be with me forever as long as I was here. She was grateful and understood what Manit meant to me and that he was happy to be a part of my business.

Pictures from the funeral, the viewing:


Preparing for cremation: