Nepali funeral

A few weeks ago, the mother of the senior Nepali doctor at Green Pastures died. She was over 90 and had been ill, so it was not unexpected. However, it provided me with an opportunity to see a little of mourning and funeral rituals in Nepal. His mother's body was cremated at the riverside the next morning with a few friends and family present. Then the sons (and the oldest daughter-in-law) must observe 13 days of mourning. The men shave their heads and wear white shorts or lungis, and wrap themselves in an unbleached blanket. Those mourning must fast – which in this case means eating rice only once a day, and not eating any meat, spice, salt, most vegetables or milk. They also must not touch anyone for the full 13 days (or watch TV, or use the phone or read books). During that time a priest will say prayers for the departed, and friends and neighbours will visit.

So it was that one day I went with the other staff in the hospital vehicle to visit Dr. Batterai. We stopped to buy fruit on the way, an appropriate gift for the occasion. There was an awning set up outside, and the mourners were sitting to one side, and there were chairs lined up in front of a photo of his mother, and the priest saying prayers. All the Hindus received a tikka (the coloured powder that is put in the middle of the forehead as a blessing) and everyone sat for a bit. It was not a formal service, but prayers were going on as we sat. A few people who knew him well went up to say a few words (without touching him of course), but it seemed the most important part was just being there – our presence expressing our support of the family in their time of loss.

What struck me most about it was the level of commitment required by the sons in their mourning rituals. Dr. Batterai is a Brahman, a member of the highest caste in Nepal, and a proud and important man. In Nepal, even more than in the west, it is very important to keep up your status and image. Yet here was the senior doctor from the hospital, sitting on the ground with a shaved head, his pot belly showing, generally looking dishevelled. I can't imagine a western doctor doing something like that so publicly. It really made an impression on me, at how much they were expected and willing to do to commemorate the death of a parent.

On the 13th day, the family welcomes everyone who came to sit with them during their mourning, and provides food for them. We again piled in the hospital vehicle to go visit, and this time Dr. Batterai was fully dressed in white clothes, and could shake our hands and sit and talk with us. We had a nice lunch, and then headed back to work. He was on holiday for another week or so, before returning to the hospital, and will be required to various rituals and remembrances in the months and years to come.