Day of the Dead

Being a Catholic country, All Saints Day (the day of the dead) is a big deal. It's the day that family members tend to deceased members graves. So I wasn't surprised when traffic was thick as we approached the graveyard. But ai was surprised by how many vehicles were parked outside. The ratio of motorbikes to cars was about 3:1 and there were a couple of hundred cars.

Inside the graves were chockablock. Timorese bury their dead (no cremations), and memorialize them with raised cement tombs. Think of a long rectangle about two feet high, two feet wide and six feet long. The head end has a marker, often topped with a cross or occasionally a photo. Some graves are more built up, and covered in tile; most are painted.

Each year on November first, family members bring buckets and pails to the graveyard to scrub and clean the graves. S used a knife to scrub off flaking paint. Janu used a homemade whisk to remove loose dirt, then a conventional scrub brush to clean more deeply. Their brother Anton was due in the afternoon to add fresh paint.

Janu and S had two graves to attend to. The majority of relatives are buried in Vaqueque, where his father and older sister went for the weekend. Here in Dili were his father’s first wife and a sister (or maybe an uncle; I'm not sure). The first wife’s grave was already cleaned by other of her relatives, so Janu and S only cleaned the one described above.

Let me take a moment to describe what I meant earlier when I said chockablock. Sometimes I could for my foot between graves as we wound our way through the graveyard. Other times, there was no way other than to step on the base. Many had already been painstakingly and lovingly cleaned. Most had mud in those narrow strips between graves, and it's impossible not to collect mud on your shoes. It was also impossible not to grip the headstone while squeezing by that end. Oh, I forgot to mention that all heads were aligned, facing the spine of the graveyard. The spine mostly had a two foot wide path, the only path in the entire cemetery. In short, we tried to respect the work already done. At times, our feet dirtied a clean grave by accident.

There are a pair of Australian Rotary members staying at my hotel. One took the other to see the grave of the man at the heart of the Santa Cruz massacre (the person being buried when the horror started). They were shocked when they arrived at the crowded graveyard, not being familiar with the Day of the Dead. So many people. One told the other “You sure know how to draw a crowd.”

Janu put on a feast for Bob’s last night in Dili, and invited his friends Tony and Jocko. Jocko is the only one of the trio who is married and who does not work for government. Tony regaled us with the challenges of being from his district, and how local customs would break him if he were ever to marry a girl from Los Polos.  First, he would be expected to pay $50,000 to $70,000 for the privilege of marrying the woman. Then he'd be expected to pay for a wedding reception for his friends, her friends, both immediate families and their friends, and the friends of every aunt uncle and cousin. It balloons to a thousand people quite quickly. Then, if not everyone wanted to travel to the wedding site (travel paid by the groom), a second or third reception would be held in Dili or other towns.

As Tony was ranting, Jocko was killing himself laughing.

Where do they have these massive affairs, I asked. At the convention centre or a handful of other locations. Does everyone get married in the cathedral?  That seems like the only place to accommodate these thousand people.  Oh no, Tony relied. Only the closest friends and family attend the ceremony. Everyone else is there for the party.

November 2 is a transition day. I move out of my hotel and into my home stay. I've asked half a dozen times for directions. Today I finally got them: behind the American embassy. Let me know when you’ve arrived and I'll come out on the road to meet you. Oh, and it's convenient for me three hours after you've checked out of your hotel and bid farewell to Bob.  Deep breaths everyone. Deep breaths.