Famadihana - Turning of the Bones

In most regions of Madagascar, around September, the whole country participates in traditional ceremonies called "Famadihana". This literally means, "Turning of the Bones". The concept of the afterlife and respect for one's family after death is extremely sacred. I was fortunate enough to see a few of these ceremonies this month.

If you watch any documentary on Madagascar, the traditional ceremony of "famadihana" is world renowned. Every family invests a significant portion of their salary to construct a tomb for their loved ones after they've passed. In the highlands, where I live, the bodies are wrapped in a cloth after being cleaned, and tied up in a straw mat called a "tsiy". I'm probably butchering the spelling of the word for the mats, but that's how they're pronounced. "Tsee".

The first day of the Famadihana, family from all over the country gathers to the family's village to take out the bodies of their ancestors. Family members will carry the bodies on their shoulders with a procession of traditional malagasy drumming and singing while dancing for the whole village to see. In my area of the village, on the day of the first Famadihana, my neighbors forced me to get out of my house since I was about to take a long, long nap after working a few hours on some projects. I'm glad I did.

We all sat on a hill, and watched the road as the procession of the bodies were taken to the family's homes. Coming from America, one would actually think that taking out the bodies is strange or creepy even, but I found it to be extremely moving. My neighbors told me the family would "Mampandiha" the body..."Make dance" (again forgive my spelling if its wrong". Young, old, boys, girls, men, women hoist the body up and down and sing to fast paced drumming and singing. So after the procession passed I retired to my house and passed the hell out. I found myself strangely saddened in a bittersweet kind of way.

I've heard of traditional ceremonies in New Orleans where funeral processions pass through the town and people purposely play some happy jazz and make a lot of happy noise because the focus is on the deceased's life. Made me think of this when I watched the Malagasy procession. It's a celebration of a person's life, not the fact that their life is over. Life...We're all here looking for life. We're all moving closer to our death. Every day, every second. Life must be celebrated. Celebrating only death is taking the whole of life for granted.

Forgive the cheesiness, but seeing the family's dancing with the body really touched my heart as I quietly celebrated the life of everyone I've lost. I don't know if I'd ever be able to take out the bodies of my own family members and hold it up and dance like that, but the act of making it dance just struck me as extremely symbolic and profound.

So the next day of the Famadihana is less emotional. The whole family invites the whole community to a party that lasts outdoors with dancing, food, drink, a dj, speakers where children and parents come and dance literally to 8 in the morning. I didn't quite make it to the morning...pathetically I retired at 11 at night. Another reason why they stay out all night is many of them believe there are evil witches that come out during famadihanas that try to poison or paralyze you. I've yet to meet one so I just decided to enjoy my night hike home after getting extremely lost in the rice fields and falling on my face off a cliff. Probably the most hardcore thing i've done in peace corps this whole seven months- face plant off a hill in complete darkness. Hell yeah, I am badass.

Back to the Famadihana, the last day, the third day, is when the family rewraps the bones of the deceased in new cloth and "Tsiy" and has one last dance with the bodies before saying goodbye all over again. I could tell from many of the family members that were dancing with the bodies that they were feeling the grief of saying goodbye all over again. Some of the elders reminded them that crying is forbidden. You must Be happy. Dance.You must not cry.

So they danced, and i smiled. But I saw some tears. and my throat kinda choked up. They were forcing smiles for their loved one.

I was watching this with my neighbors and the ad joint chef fokontany, who had just lost his mom two weeks before. There were tears in his eyes too. The thing is people die often here. Access to healthcare, income, education, is just not the same. It is unfair and difficult to watch. Blah blah blah you've heard me type this a million times I'll spare you the pity party.

Back to the famadihana, one of the elders asked me how I felt seeing the dead body dance and I told him it was wonderful, but a little sad to me. Im not used to seeing bodies after theyve been buried or cremated or whatever. And I don't think I'd honestly have any courage to be smiling and dancing and being happy and shit.

In any case, I couldnt help but think of Sophie, Christophe, Duong Du, Co Nam, my grandpa, my grandma, my other grandparents, my ong/ba bacs,...My moms greatest act of love to her parents was taking care of them everyday for ten years as they slowly died of alzheimers and lost all memory of ever having her. all this  shit was running through my mind and it just made me think about how right this celebration is. family is sacred. you need to remember and you need to appreciate.

The Famadihana - It's a beautiful tradition whose fundamental purpose is based on love. Shit we forget about in the states everyday. It's a much more difficult life here in Madagascar and family is sometimes all the Malagasy have. Arguably so, I truly believe it's all we really have in the states as well. Fuck the nice car or the new iphone. You think you're powerful if you have this material bullshit, but that will never replace your grandaughters warm hands holding onto yours as you close your eyes and take your last breath.

Loss has been the biggest lesson about pain and gratitude i've learned in my whole life so far.

Though I'll never have the balls to turn their bones and take their bodies out and dance with em, in my heart I'm remembering Sophie, Christophe, Ong Noi, Ba Noi, Ong Ngoai, Duong Du, Ba Co Nam, Thang, Ba Bac, Ong Bac tata Nam Long, Ong Bac Chu Tuan. Wherever you guys are, if I could, I'd be dancing and singing songs for you all.

Outtie.