There was a clue yesterday evening as I got back from my labours on the city farm. Galia had been to the shop and brought back with here lots of sweets, biscuits, cake bars and fruit. I know that these are given as gifts to people on special occasion and tomorrow was one of those days.
Early tomorrow morning we were to go to a Yambol cemetery to visit Galia's Baba's grave. She died 22 years ago and each year the family visit on this anniversary to tidy up, place new flowers and shrubs, give a blessing, light candles, water and give Baba a drink of wine.
Our 86-year-old current Baba was to come with us; we missed the occasion last year in the UK.
We loaded up the Lada with all the flowers and shrubs, that were picked from our own garden rather than being bought. A good supply of water, a bottle of home made wine, some Bulgarian gardening hand tools and the food bought the day before packed in five plastic bags to be presented to today's family visitors to the grave were also loaded up.
We arrived at the same time as the sun that was now beating down on us. Now our Baba insisted we park the car outside the cemetery grounds, as we would have had to pay one Bulgarian leva for entry. She would much rather buy a loaf of bread with this money that she felt would be ill spent. It was nearly had a kilometre to Baba's grave as young Baba stopped every 100 metres to draw breath.
Now I have done this before over the last two years with Galia who attends her late husband's grave each year. I knew the routine and the rituals so nothing surprised me today. The fact that no one felt sad or slightly morbid with lots of talking joking and generally normal bouncy behaviour was normal and I felt quite at ease with this mood this year.
All the graves have pictures of the deceased on the head stone, many is not most with the husband and wife in the same grave, some with whole families of up to five or six. Some graves have sculptured masks of the dead on the headstone, usually a more important figure, but in general in true socialist style every grave area is the same with slight variations of headstone style. All done in a reserved and respectful manner and always understated, no extroverts allowed here.
Beneath each headstone is a base stone with a cavity cut out. This has a glass front and a metal door at the back, which is padlocked entry to a cavity. This is a space for personal possessions and effects are stored, for instance a photograph of the family they had left behind or a book etc., which is probably why it is locked. tis can be seen through the glass at the front. Also the candles that are lit each year is usually placed in side a little hand built shelter to protect from the wind, but most are of an old oil can with one side cut out as they site permanently on the grave browned by the years of rust.
We finally got there and all three of us set about tidying the grave up, it took a good half an hour of graft to get everything looking spic and span. Just as we finished other members of out family turned up - 'Well timed!' we said as we wiped the sweat of our brows after slaving away with weeds and planting in this now blazing April sun. We all exchanged the bags of food goodies, each of us lit a candle and placed it in the freshly dug soil on the grave and said a prayer as we watched the candles burn lower.
We then each took bottle of water and poured it over the grave in a cross motion and exactly the same was done with the bottle of wine saying another small prayer whilst doing it. A few minutes of talking over the grave, again very happily and joyful conversations about when young Baba was going to join her mother whereas we all agree that she would have to lose weight before she passes away as she wouldn't fit in the grave for one and her pension wasn't enough to cover the cost of a tractor to lay here to rest. Like I said, there is no sorrow involved on these occasions, it is almost like another celebrations and of course food and drink involved.
We talked our way out of the cemetery grounds and took Baba for the first time in her life to a big supermarket, Kaufland. She pushed a supermarket trolley for the first time in her life, knocking quite a few people out of the way during the learning process. We only got a loaf of bread there, but spent over an hour talking to people we knew who worked there, this is normal.
So back home and the day is half gone as we tuck into the bag of goodies presented to us including some lovely home made cake on of the family had baked yesterday (riddled with local home grown walnuts!) Mmmm!
Why no photographs taken you might ask? It has nothing to do with respect, as you might be thinking. I took the camera only to find that the batteries were dead when getting there; perhaps I should have buried them and said a prayer while I was there!
Early tomorrow morning we were to go to a Yambol cemetery to visit Galia's Baba's grave. She died 22 years ago and each year the family visit on this anniversary to tidy up, place new flowers and shrubs, give a blessing, light candles, water and give Baba a drink of wine.
Our 86-year-old current Baba was to come with us; we missed the occasion last year in the UK.
We loaded up the Lada with all the flowers and shrubs, that were picked from our own garden rather than being bought. A good supply of water, a bottle of home made wine, some Bulgarian gardening hand tools and the food bought the day before packed in five plastic bags to be presented to today's family visitors to the grave were also loaded up.
We arrived at the same time as the sun that was now beating down on us. Now our Baba insisted we park the car outside the cemetery grounds, as we would have had to pay one Bulgarian leva for entry. She would much rather buy a loaf of bread with this money that she felt would be ill spent. It was nearly had a kilometre to Baba's grave as young Baba stopped every 100 metres to draw breath.
Now I have done this before over the last two years with Galia who attends her late husband's grave each year. I knew the routine and the rituals so nothing surprised me today. The fact that no one felt sad or slightly morbid with lots of talking joking and generally normal bouncy behaviour was normal and I felt quite at ease with this mood this year.
All the graves have pictures of the deceased on the head stone, many is not most with the husband and wife in the same grave, some with whole families of up to five or six. Some graves have sculptured masks of the dead on the headstone, usually a more important figure, but in general in true socialist style every grave area is the same with slight variations of headstone style. All done in a reserved and respectful manner and always understated, no extroverts allowed here.
Beneath each headstone is a base stone with a cavity cut out. This has a glass front and a metal door at the back, which is padlocked entry to a cavity. This is a space for personal possessions and effects are stored, for instance a photograph of the family they had left behind or a book etc., which is probably why it is locked. tis can be seen through the glass at the front. Also the candles that are lit each year is usually placed in side a little hand built shelter to protect from the wind, but most are of an old oil can with one side cut out as they site permanently on the grave browned by the years of rust.
We finally got there and all three of us set about tidying the grave up, it took a good half an hour of graft to get everything looking spic and span. Just as we finished other members of out family turned up - 'Well timed!' we said as we wiped the sweat of our brows after slaving away with weeds and planting in this now blazing April sun. We all exchanged the bags of food goodies, each of us lit a candle and placed it in the freshly dug soil on the grave and said a prayer as we watched the candles burn lower.
We then each took bottle of water and poured it over the grave in a cross motion and exactly the same was done with the bottle of wine saying another small prayer whilst doing it. A few minutes of talking over the grave, again very happily and joyful conversations about when young Baba was going to join her mother whereas we all agree that she would have to lose weight before she passes away as she wouldn't fit in the grave for one and her pension wasn't enough to cover the cost of a tractor to lay here to rest. Like I said, there is no sorrow involved on these occasions, it is almost like another celebrations and of course food and drink involved.
We talked our way out of the cemetery grounds and took Baba for the first time in her life to a big supermarket, Kaufland. She pushed a supermarket trolley for the first time in her life, knocking quite a few people out of the way during the learning process. We only got a loaf of bread there, but spent over an hour talking to people we knew who worked there, this is normal.
So back home and the day is half gone as we tuck into the bag of goodies presented to us including some lovely home made cake on of the family had baked yesterday (riddled with local home grown walnuts!) Mmmm!
Why no photographs taken you might ask? It has nothing to do with respect, as you might be thinking. I took the camera only to find that the batteries were dead when getting there; perhaps I should have buried them and said a prayer while I was there!
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Poor Baba ! I wouldnt want to be reminded that I hv 1 leg in the grave already :-o Bulgarian humour ?
ReplyDeleteIn SG, Tomb Sweeping day falls on April 5th. My family paid the caretaker to refresh the flowers n keep the grave of our brother who died 29yrs ago tidy, so we dont hv to sweat under the hot sun clearing the undergrowth. My dad passed on 8yrs ago n his ashes r interred in a columbarium due to shortages of land on our tiny island. Families r allowed to burn josssticks n paper-offerings at designated bins on the ground floor. The air was thick with smoke while we were one floor up visiting dad.
Around August there's another offering for The Hungry Ghost in one's neighbourhood. Again, the air is thick with the burning of paper gifts of all items that they might need in the afterlife, as well as luxuries as airplanes, cars, laptops, etc. Food r left on site n in the old days when I was a kid, dimes were scattered near the food offering. All we had to do was to wait for a quiet moment to pick them up n run to the nearest shop to buy sweets with it - haha ! It did scare my mom who is superstitious that stealing from the dead will hv its repercussion !
In the past, my mom used to celebrate both the birth n death day of our ancesters. To us kids, it was a day of feasting after the rituals at home. It gradually petered out in my teen years bec no one really feel the need for ancestors worship. Perhaps it's a loss of yet another tradition in modern times ?
Oh, my dutch family here has never held a rememberance day for the deceased. When my maternal grandma-in-law passed on, her ashes were scattered on the grounds around the crematoruim. What a (cold) efficient way of a send-off isnt it ? However, this is a common procedure here. The chinese usually holds a wake, surrounded by family/friends n multiple fragrant wreaths in a grand way for several days prior to the cremation, followed by a closure ceremony on the 49th day, with prayers (or monks chanting for some religion) n a feast. My hubby said that the chinese does it better bec the wake allows the family to grieve properly n the closure helps them to come to terms of the finality. Whereas in NL, the 3 day rush to get everything organised, deprives one the time to reflect n grieve.
ReplyDeleteHi Dutchie, Baba was teh one who laughed the most!
ReplyDeleteSome interestign customs your end and yes I agree losing some of these tradtions is very sad, ironic that they are dying themsleves.
Hi Again Dutchie, my goodness you are on fire with your knowledge and experiecne of grieving and ceremonies in this field. Here they have a 40 day remeberance after the death of someone, (again in an uplifting mood, then six months and yearly after that. No religious people involved although may do attedn the church to say a prayer and light a candle. No rushing involved here at all.
ReplyDeleteI thought twice about reading this post, funerals and all that. I'm glad I did read it though as it's most interesting in that it offers a great insight into the minds and thinking of the Bulgarian people. A visit to a family grave "The fact that no one felt sad or slightly morbid with lots of talking joking and generally normal bouncy behaviour was normal..." and jokes about young grandmother being next on the list, that all shows wonderful spirit and the acceptance that you are on this earth once, so make the best of it. Very Thai like I must add. Let us hope Young Baba's candles won't be burning for many years yet.
ReplyDeleteHi Martin,
ReplyDeleteIt was interesting to read how Bulgarians deal with death. I prefer the idea of celebrating a life than mourning a death, which is what the English seem to do. Give me an Irish wake any day!
Here in Greece I find it interesting that men wear black for 40 days after a family death, but women are expected to wear it for a whole year. And if a woman has lost several family members she may wear black for the rest of her life. This is one tradition I won't be following though - I feel sure you can show respect in other ways.
Martin , as long as I can remember we have always gone to the family grave yard and had a cleaning and flower planting day. The burgess's have a long family history in the USA. So it was always a time to learn about a lot of history and how our family played a part of history. We always made one out of ten a family reunion and folks from all over would come ,I saw and meet Aunts and Uncles and cousins ,I had never even heard of , and my ,my , what a great selection of food we would have , what with each family bringing their special treats for all to enjoy , and enjoy we did. It was always a happy time for us and we always took a moment to remember and reflect for a minute about each one gone on before us , and what a joy it will be to see them over there in Glory Land. Malcolm.
ReplyDeletethanks for sharing a Bulgarian tradition with us and how you too have made it a important time in your life too. Glad Ba Ba hade a laugh too.
Hi Martyn,
ReplyDeletetoo am glad you followed this post up. It surprised me whe I first experienced the occasion two years ago, but now I can see it make so much more sense to treat it like a celebration of lives lived.
Hi Maggi,
ReplyDeleteI really like your attitude, keeping your ideals, but repsecting others.Far to many expatriates don't.
Hi
ReplyDeleteMalcolm and CieJay,
Wow, you areally are becoming a dab hand as a blogger, these are the first pictures in the commments section - Bravo.
I agree, a celebration of life is a more positive way to deal with death and to do it with the whole family is important. In the UK this was never the case and funerals were always a sorry and sad affair with a sense of guilt attached to everyone. What a pity it is dealt with lke like there.
Thanks you for sharing your tradition (and pictures) with us all.
Take Care
Hi Marin,
ReplyDeleteThat's a really interesting tradition!! I like it, though! People here in Central and Eastern Europe have a healthier view of death than we do in the West. The Czechs have a similar day to visit the cemeteries--on All Saints--November 1. They are more solemn than Bulgarians, but people wander around the cemetery as if they are in a park...very different than back in the States!!
Have a great day!
Sher :0)