Reminiscings from the Roof of the World
A Buddhist Funeral and the Long Road Home
March 24-31, 2000. The weather was much improved on Friday morning and the trek down to Birethanti was quite pleasant. The bus would meet us at Naya Pul (meaning new bridge) at 4:00 pm. We spent the day in Birethanti going out in small groups and chatting with the locals. Julie, Stephen, and Bala were in a group with me and of course Bala helped us with language. The day was incredibly productive; we shared with many people and were able to pray with more than a few. I talked with one group of men who were very interested in the message of Truth. They accepted Bibles and allowed me to pray for them but said they wanted to read the Bible before taking a decision. A substantial list was entrusted to Robby for followup by the ladies from Kathmandu (as mentioned in WOTH-Part 10).
In 1 Corinthians 3:6,7 Paul says, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth.” Many teams walked this path before us and many more would follow. Only eternity knows what fruit was produced on our little trek. I have no need to know for that is God’s business and His alone. However, my heart was ecstatic to hear three or so years later that that one body of believers in the area had already increased to eight churches.
There had been a death in Birethanti before our arrival. Buddhists have various end of life customs. Burial is occasionally used in the case of contagion, murder, or to castigate the dead by lowering the corpse toward hell. Possibly the preferred method for a Tibetan is sky burial as Buddhists feel it is more honorable for another creature to take nourishment from the body than letting it decay. Water burial is sometimes used for commoners, beggars and others of low standing. Tree burial is reserved for children. It is believed that the body returns to the four elements – earth, water, air, and fire – while the soul reincarnates. Because it is believed that some time is required for the soul to reach its next reincarnation, there is concern that the departing soul may see their body and attempt to reanimate the corpse. Therefore open air ceremonies are conducted quickly so that the decomposition of the body is not delayed. Buddhist lamas carry out rituals to guide the dead so they do not get lost on their journey and also chant sutras to redeem the sins of the deceased.*
After lunch we saw the funeral procession taking the body down to the river for a Buddhist cremation. We gathered to watch the ceremony, most of us from a bridge which provided a good view from a respectful distance. Once the procession arrived at the riverbank they put a sheet around the deceased then removed his clothes and washed them in the river. The tinkling bells of an approaching mule train, rhythmic gongs from Tibetan musical instruments, and the pungent aroma of incense filled the air. The body was placed on the pyre in the Buddha position and then wrapped in a saffron cloth and covered in flowers. At that point, before the fire was lit, we had to start the trek to Naya Pul to meet the bus to Pokhara.
After a six-hour bus ride on Saturday we arrived back in Kathmandu and checked into the Student Guest House. That evening we said goodbye to the porters and cooks. It was excruciating to bid farewell to those young men who not only had taken such good care of us but had become dear friends. Many tears were shed as we parted.
Sunday morning we attended Robby’s church along with a much smaller crowd than we had seen a couple weeks before at the Saturday gathering. Again, I was deeply stirred by their passionate worship, and I was also deeply emotional to be privileged to worship with them, having observed the deep commitment and perseverance of the Nepali believers. After lunch we visited two Bible training centers and went to Daniel G.’s house where we met his wife and two children. They presented gifts of handmade batiks to each team member and beautiful blankets from India to Katie and me. We enjoyed a couple days in Thamel, the tourist district of Kathmandu, savoring the food, visiting shops, etc. as well as prayer walking around key sites of the city. On Tuesday, 28th, we bade farewell to my beloved Nepal.
Tuesday night we slept near the beaches of Hua Hin, Thailand, where we enjoyed two days of rest and debriefing, gradually transitioning from the Himalayan Kingdom to the “modern world”. Then Friday, 31st, after a month of indescribable adventure we flew home to Alaska.
My husband met me at Kenai Municipal Airport and as we drove home I had trouble finding words to describe to him all that I had experienced. I opened the front door of our house and standing on the threshold looked into my modest living room and sobbed. It looked like a palace and I was overcome with how ungratefully I had lived my life. I managed to fight jetlag and stay awake until early evening. Once I fell asleep I did something that I would never have thought possible; I slept 24 hours straight through. After being awake for a few hours I slept another full night!
On Tuesday, March 28, 2000, I said my first goodbye to Nepal. However some part of me never left; to this day I know that part of me is still there. As I pen these memories my eyes are leaking. For many months I wept daily for Nepal. I still, almost a quarter of a century later, sometimes weep for her. The Himalayas became a part of who I am and walking with God, seeing Him act, feeling that heady sense of destiny on that trip changed me forever. The person I am today is meshed with my experiences among those incredible mountain people and that gloriously magnificent land and the sensing of the hand of my Wonderful, Almighty, Glorious, Creator God. The wonderment of the Himalayas is in my soul. And I miss her desperately.
The Christmas season before this trip I had become disillusioned with the whole American Christmas thing. Don’t misunderstand, I love Christmas, the traditions, the music, the food, the decorations, the Reason. But the commercialism had worn me out. I very clearly remember thinking that I didn’t want another Christmas in America, that I wanted to spend my future December 25ths taking Christmas to those who had never known a Christmas. Imagine my delight when one day, out of the blue, a couple months after our return from Nepal, Katie said to me, “Mom, I want to take another team to Nepal over Christmas break. You wanna go?”
My stories of trips 2 and 3 will begin in the fall after a short intermission!
*https://classroom.synonym.com/buddhist-funeral-customs-in-nepal-and-the-himalayas-12087481.html
Coffee, Tea, and Reverie 