Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Death, and our perceptions of death

All throughout my life, my parents have shielded me from death: when our neighbor collapsed from heart failure, I was taken to the basement where I wouldn't be able to see the paramedics arrive. The same happened for the elderly woman living above us - when she passed from cancer, I was taken to my aunt's house while my parents dealt with the 'situation.' I was always never allowed to attend the funeral - my parents always felt that it was inappropriate for children to attend. However, when it came time when my uncle, a once lively man, passed away from cancer at 35, I was again shielded from death. Even though I was 16 then, I was not allowed to attend the funeral: my parents insisted I stay in school while they took time off from their jobs to travel to Canada where he lived. As a result, I always viewed death and loss as foreign to me - I waited for my mother to come home, not knowing how she would respond to the death of her brother. I expected to see her depressed, or grieving, but there was no sign of it. Both my parents came home, and resumed their daily lives like nothing happened.

Confused, I spend the next few years sporadically asking, and inquiring about the relationship between my mother and uncle. Why the apathetic repsonse? Were they simply not close? What I found was that she, and presumably the rest of my family, viewed death as a very different event than simply the end-all: where a life is lost forever. She believed that my uncle was still with her, and watching over her. This summer, I even found out that she was keeping a Jasmine plant, grown from cuttings taken from my uncle's home. She told me that it keeps her in touch with my uncle. When I asked whether she meant she can see or hear her, she responded "of course!" To her, my uncle never really left. She explained that, when she was growing up in Burma, death (as Professor Aguas explained) was not kept a secret, or away from the community: when a neighbor died, their home was open to the entire community - she said that neighborhood kids would attend the funerals, weaving in and out of the crowds. Of course, it was stressful when a loved one died, but everyone accepted it as a part of life. My mother also mentioned her own death, and how she was making arrangements in preparation for it.

I will admit that I still do not understand my mom's views of death, or the grieving process (having never been as deeply exposed to it) however, I would tend to agree that loss is viewed very differently in Asian culture. Yes she admitted that she missed her brother, but seemed to accept the loss without a pronounced grieving process. Maybe that is the difference, as it was said in class, between how the western world views death, and how the eastern one does - rather than it being a negative experience, it is rather celebrated as a person's life moving on.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Comparison of death rituals

    While death is a universal event, the way which people handle it is very diverse. Most people depend on their culture or religion to dictate how to cope with death, similar to how they do for given ethical standards and daily conduct. I chose to compare a particular Islamic ceremony with Indonesian traditions to highlight the various ways to deal with death.
    In a traditional Islamic ceremony, the aim is to promote how important a person’s death is to their voyage to find God. The event beginnings before the person actually passes, as their family gathers with them to pray and read passages from the Quran. During this time, they repent for their sins and, if they are physically able, will participate in purification rituals. When the congregation believes death is close, they all whisper Shahadah to the dying person. Upon death, the family recites the passage from the Quran that narrates God raising the death on the Day of Judgement. Typically the body is buried as soon as possible, preferably by sunset of that day. The body is placed in the grave in a white shroud, and a male family member positions the body on their right side facing Mecca. All who gather for the ceremony fill the grave and give a blessing. On top of the grave, the family uses simple headstones, which demonstrates equality among all the deceased.
    In Indonesia, along with many other Southeast Asian cultures, death is viewed as a very personal and intimate experience. Families often keep the body in their home until the deceased’s wake, in comparison to a hospital or funeral home. This allows the community and those close to the person to physically confirm and actively accept death, as opposed to a more distant or impersonal recognition. Frequently, the wake of the departed includes music, dancing, and food; therefore, it may not occur immediately after death because they family will need time to gather money and resources. These traditions include the entire community because every individual is important to the society, and upon death there is a void in the role that person served. Thus when a death occurs in these cultures, it affects and allows for total inclusion of the community.
    Both the Islamic and Indonesian traditions focus on death as a concept beyond the loss of the individual. While the event is certainly sad, they understand that death is merely a given part of life, and in a religious sense it is how one takes a step closer to God. Furthermore, actively celebrating the deceased's life instead of passively morning it, they will aid one to learn how to manage death and potentially inspire them to live a more passionate and fulfilled life.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Moral behind Gambling Scene

For me, the most interesting scene in the Mahabharata was the gambling scene because after watching it, you can walk away learning so much from it.  We have many people in the world who go through great lengths just achieve success in their lives and have very little respect for their family and friends because all that matters to them is success.  One lesson learned form this story is if we want to be successful we have to put our lives into God's hands and let him pave the way for us because if it was meant to be, He will guide us to the right path. Another, less religious lesson, is that gambling is a disastrous habit and one should never be tempted by gamblers.  Although it may seem addicting, it is important to not get too caught in the actions because depending on the game the chances of you walking away empty-handed is much greater than walking away with riches.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Chinese Quick-change research


Since watching the performance of the Chinese mask quick-change artists, I have wondered just how the actors were able to pull off such magnificent feats. I tried to do research online regarding the secrets behind the illusion but could find very little. Most of the search results consisted of videos of performers rather than information behind their tricks. With a little more effort, I discovered that this is due to the secrecy that still surrounds the tradition.
            This quick-change art is apparently a very well-kept and guarded secret of the ancient Chinese culture. It has existed for about 300 years, originally as part of the Sichuan opera. Tradition dictates that the techniques of the mask changing can only be passed down to people of Chinese descent. To increase the amount of secrecy, the art is passed within families, and then they could only be passed onto sons. This restriction against women was apparently not just a result of a male dominated culture but an effort to keep the secrets within each family because a woman, upon marrying into another family, ran the risk of spreading the trick beyond her immediate relatives. 
            These cultural rules are reminiscent of multiple principles held dear to the Chinese people. For instance, the Chinese put a large emphasis upon the family unit; as a traditionally communalist country this is only to be expected. Therefore it comes as no surprise that even their artistic pursuits would center around family. The Chinese people are also known for being isolationists, which explains their rigorous efforts to preserve the secrets behind their uniquely Chinese art. These efforts can also be explained by the way in which the Chinese hold tradition in highest esteem; by forbidding outsiders to learn it, they hope to preserve it as a pure art within their own culture. 

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Theatre From Opression


The vast amount of theatre and opera in China and the specificity of the regions each originated in, reminded me of studying dance in my Spanish classes.  To an outsider, it is so easy to cluster and clump these different forms of art all together as homogenous.  Doing so gives no credit to the rich history the respective preforming arts have, let alone, what they actually consist of.  Both Latin America and China have endured and continue to live in environments where oppression is a day-to-day encounter.  Dances like the Tango and, in respect to China, the Cantonese Opera both were born out of the repressive contexts that possessed their countries at the time.
This emblazons a cliché surrounding the preforming arts: that they are an outlet, a release for emotions.  While this a predictable, stereotypical answer to the question “why do you preform?” history proves it true.  Living in America, its hard to imagine living under a government where freedoms like speech, protest, access to media and books et cetera do not exist.  In such a society, theatre presents an outlet for not only the lack of freedoms but the frustration and hardships that come with it.  In China, theatres like Cantonese opera, Cuotaiji opera, Yuan Theatre all developed from adversity and oppression.  Traditional theatre in the Mao era was suppressed, thus another release developed to channel emotions of the public: Cantonese opera.  Cuotaiji opera is representative of sacrifice, cultivation and good wishes- values and preeminent trends of the society.  During the Mongol Invasion in the North, Yuan theatre was born out of the newfound stress confusion and subjugation.
Though it is a very familiar answer behind the motivation of theatre, history does show theatre is an outlet- especially in difficult times.  Whether it is used to express the hardships, bring joy or add dimension, theatre gives a public a means of unity.  Because of that, it seems theater will forever be inherent within societies.

How we deal with death

I learned the other week that people of different cultures deal with death differently.  I mean I know that every family has a different way of handling death but it is more eye opening to actually hear other peoples'  ways of grieving or even celebrating.  I do not deal well with death.  In 2006 within almost one month of each other both my grandmother and great grandmother passed away.  I couldn't even imagine what my mom must've went through.  But I was there with her every step of the way.  I wanted to be involve and see my grandmothers as much as possible.  And when I wasn't with them I remember being in my room or just detached from everything else going on.  And during the funeral it was really hard for me as well.  I just find it really hard to be happy or to celebrate someone leaving us.  But I never talked about it with anyone.  There was no outlet for that.  I just had to keep it all to myself, as I'm sure my mom did and everyone else.  That is why I loved sitting in our Banjar the other day and talking about death.  Hearing others' perspectives and ways of dealing with death helped me to see that everyone shares these feelings of sadness, but there are different ways of coping with them.  Some cultures actually celebrate death.  I don't think I could do that, but my dad always jokes about when he dies he wants us to throw a party and not a funeral.  He's always said he wants people drinking and having a good time!  He doesn't want us wasting our time crying over him!  I don't know if I could do that but the theory of it sounds like a great idea.

I think that it was really beneficial to sit and talk about the death of Troy.  It's been a long four years with several deaths here at William and Mary.  I knew going into this school that it was somewhat known for having a high suicide rate.  That's why after the first one I didn't really think much of it because it just went along with the stereotype.  But four suicides later and it is just unbelievably sad.  When I got the email I couldn't believe it.  I was overcome with that feeling of sadness.  I've just never understood why people feel they have to do such a thing.  My dad has always told me that life is not that bad!  If you have people in your life that love you and a roof over your head what is there to be so depressed about that you feel like you can't live anymore?  But I think that it was very special that we sat and talked about Troy.  It made me think about how thankful I am and how I need to appreciate everything that I have in life because you never know when someone you love can be taken away from you.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Death as a Cultural Event

In these past couple of weeks our William & Mary community has had to come to terms with the death of a fellow student, and the events that have taken place concordantly. In class, we have discussed the cultural distinction in dealing with death and any other cultural or life event for that matter. Practiced rituals and standardized beliefs differ not only between cultures, but within a culture itself. This is self-evident based upon the culturally diverse melting pot America has become today. The occurrence has forced me to consider the event of death not only as private matter, one which adheres to more specified cultural values, but one of more communal and societal public observance as well.
In attempting to reconcile such a dichotomy between private and public life, it is almost inevitable that certain compromises must be made in regards to cultural events. In my own life, my family has dealt with death first in a very private matter. Grieving as an internal and nuclear unit not only allows us to cope in the most honest and natural way possible, but it creates even stronger bonds that are so necessary for the nuclear family to have. In this sense, death is a very private matter for us. Yes, we receive phone calls, emails, and general condolences from friends and community members, but the majority of the support comes from within our family. We recognize that this private matter must be extended to the greater community at some point though. We try to reconcile this, and I think society does in general, by melding private and public lives in the form of the funeral. Not only does it allow my family to continue the grieving process in a religious setting, but it invites members of the public to grieve with us within a space considered sacred to the family. When this done community members come back to our house and bring something that helps in the coping process, whether that be food or just emotional support. It seems as though the integration of private and public lives roots itself in primarily spatial forms. Simply put, common places such as the home or a religious institution allow for the simultaneous grievance of private and public entities.
In American culture, bringing death into a public realm allows for a communal family to be formed and recognized. The nuclear family is no longer responsible for all the pain-bearing. The pain is subsequently superceded onto the community. Here at school, the "one tribe, one family" statuses permeated facebook and served as a reminder that a deeper family and support system exists to rely on. This is the true beauty of it all. We quickly were reminded of the broader social and academic family that we hold a defining characteristic of the school after the event. It helps keep everything in perspective by forcing us to appreciate the close ties we have with one another. Although never depreciating the significance and tragic nature of the event, the broad community of support reminds us that there are few events that we cannot get through together.