>>> Item number 16404 from WRITERS LOG9308E --- (200 records) ---- <<< Date: Sun, 29 Aug 1993 18:00:05 JST Reply-To: WRITERS Sender: WRITERS From: Mike Barker Subject: BACKGROUND: A Japanese Funeral Notes on A Japanese Funeral For A Company President or Why 4 hours of work takes at least 3 days worth of meetings Wednesday, August 18 At 11 A.M., one manager called all the managers into a meeting. There he announced that the president of the company had died at 2 A.M. that morning. The first service would be Friday evening, with the funeral Saturday. By afternoon, division by division, the announcement was made. Thursday, August 19 Sizes (for those of us who needed rental black suits) were collected, along with money. Another meeting, this time with a higher level manager repeating the news. Friday, August 20 9:30 A.M. A preliminary meeting of the managers to review the two day schedules. 1:45 P.M. Another managerial meeting, with one of the top managers announcing what was known about the illness (he had collapsed two weeks before, apparently from heat). 2 P.M. A meeting of the 60 or so people who are going to be ushers, etc. Once more, a review of the schedule. Admonitions that we are representatives of the company and there will be important customers there, so we should "wear a company face" - no laughing or smiling. BTW - we were not asked whether we would like to spend our Friday evening and all day Saturday doing this. Instead, we were simply assigned. 3 P.M. Into a small bus and we're off. 3:20 At the "funeral home" - a large place. Changing into black suits, black ties. The customary dress for a funeral here, for everyone, is a black suit and tie, or black dress, to the point where the black tie (especially) is regarded as a marker of someone attending a funeral. I am assigned to the ushers, but after some discussion (given that the the ushers are supposed to use very polite, formal Japanese in dealing with the attendees), I am assigned to stand prominently at the side and bow as people come in or leave. I also will be a substitute stapler (fastening together the little envelope of money brought by attendees and business card) if we get busy enough to need it. A quick bento (rice, some sashimi, and some other bites of food) dinner, and we settle into our places by 5:45. Between 6 and 8 p.m., I bow, and bow, and bow again, pain settling into my lower back, and a band of hot agony across my shoulders. Incidents - a little old lady, a bit confused, joins our line of ushers. After a moment or two, someone notices her and after a brief discussion sends her off to another funeral. Three women arrive together, without any men, and our ushers ignore them. (I know, I know - but should I disrupt everything? or remember that I am a visitor here, and simply stand witness?) A man leaves, walking at least three or four steps ahead of his wife, responding with an angry grunt and hand wave when she stops to collect the present (a small box of tea) given to all attendees. After the guests have left, the company people also participate. This first service is simple. The priest (Buddhist) sits, droning, sometimes ringing his bell (like an iron cup on a pillow, with a tone that rings and resounds for long seconds after each tap). Each person walks forward to (in this case) three ceramic incense pots. Bow to the family, bow to the huge portrait of the president that hangs over the coffin sitting in the flowers with fruit baskets set above it, pick up a pinch of loose incense, pause (usually lifting the incense close to nose or forehead - I've asked, and no one seems sure just what we are doing at this point), then drop it in the bowl, adding to the clouds of fragrance that fill the room. Repeat (most people do three pinches, although some do two). Then bow again to the family, and leave. Oh - most people have their "rosary beads" - a special set that are used for praying. By 8, we're done, but we hold another meeting, reviewing the schedule again... My estimate says that instead of the 700 to 1,000 people that were expected, we had maybe 200. Saturday, August 21. 9:30 A.M. The leaders of each temporary group hold a meeting, reviewing the schedule and refining what they will do. 10 A.M. A meeting of all, and we get the schedule read to us once more. We're told that we had over 250 people yesterday, and there will probably be 500 to 600 people today. We're also reminded that there are the VIPs (with special designated seats in front), the large section for company customers next, and there may be some friends of the family who will be seated outside. (amusing note - the term everyone is using is "vips" - pronounced to rhyme with rips. a foreign abbreviation that has become a word...) 11 A.M. An early fast lunch of curry rice (borrowed from Indian cooking, but much milder). 11:15 We're in place, and customers (excuse me, attendees) start arriving. By a little after 12, most of the crowd is in place, and the service starts. This is a five priest service (VERY EXPENSIVE), with one oldster amusing in his goatee (thin, straight, white hair) and rose-pink glasses. The main priest wears horn-rim glasses, the somewhat wide style that is popular now. His white cap has long panels that reach well below his shoulders, his under garb is a bright crimson, and the over gown is paneled gold and white. There are T.V. monitors outside for the friends of the family seating and those of us who are working. These let me see the priests from the front for a change, and I am impressed with the number of implements the main priest produces from under his robes and then returns to their hiding places. Surprisingly, when I ask people later about these, no one seems to know what they are for - several people say this is the first time they have seen what the priest was doing, too. The drone of the priests is impressive, with a younger priest holding a sustained, smooth roll of sound under the lighter bursts of sound from the old priest. Today's bell is different, too. It is bigger, about the size of a head, and produces a lower tone that rolls and melts into to the drone from the priests. The VIPs give lengthy speeches, all about business and work, before dropping pinches of incense into a burner. I don't listen very closely, I'm afraid, as I find myself growing disgusted with the commercial edge on what I think of as a thoroughly non-commercial event. Then the auxiliary burners are set up, and the whole audience is brought forward to burn pinches of incense. With six burners, this moves rapidly. Next, the coffin is brought out and opened. Those who want to are asked to place flowers inside. At first, I thought I would skip this, but one of the other managers elbowed me and said I should, so I join in. (One side note - since all funerals in Japan are cremations, there is no embalming. The coffin, especially in hot times like this, is packed with dry ice. Oh - the coffins are plain, almost severe, boxes, square edges and flat tops.) The "hearse" that carries the coffin to the "yakiba" (burning place - crematorium?) is fancy - a baroquely carved pale wood "house" covers the back. I'm bundled into the bus for the crematorium by one of the other managers (I still don't know if I was really supposed to go or not). At the crematorium, a small table is set up in front of the coffin, and we offer incense again. Then the doors are closed, and the burning begins. We return to the "funeral home". The guests have left, and there is a meeting for the company people. This one is short - two top managers congratulate us on how well we did. Most of the top management sticks around, to go out to the crematorium, pick up the bones, and participate in one more go around with incense. I beg off (I'm disgusted with the way the company has "taken over", practically displacing the family in my opinion) and leave. My estimate is that we might have had 300 people the second day. Presents on the second day were white handkerchiefs. This was the man who interviewed and hired me (and has probably acted as my "patron" since then). Frankly, I found the constant thread of business interests and scrabbling for positions quite inconsistent with my notions of what should happen at a funeral. Sorry this is sketchy. I was angry enough at the overt and blatant emphasis on business relations and status inequality that I didn't observe as carefully as possible. I also find that lower back pain (from bowing) makes me inattentive. If you have questions, I can probably answer them (I've been "family" in two Japanese Christian funerals, friend at at least two more, and now this one). People have assured me that this was a "typical" funeral for a company president or similar "high level" person. tink