Expressing Grief

“Lekso bets” is the Amharic term for funeral ceremonies and they are a very important part of Ethiopian culture.  On the third day after someone passes away, most people in town walk to the church in the morning for a “crying ceremony.”  I attended one for the first time last week, and it was truly one of the most, if not the most, powerful experiences I have had here in Ethiopia.

Last week a 16-year-old boy tragically passed away in Mezezo, due to an accident at a very dangerous river nearby.  It was and continues to be heartbreaking for the Mezezo community.

Along with about 200 other women, all dressed in white cultural scarves (net’elas), with the colored, patterned edges framing our faces, as is done for funeral ceremonies, I walked along the dirt road in Mezezo.  As we walked, the mother of the young boy who passed away was near the front, emotionally saying and yelling “Lije,” which means “my child”.  After about 15 minutes we made it up the hill to the Church.  We all gathered around the place where the grave would be, and then the “crying ceremony” began.  In a matter of seconds after we arrived, the boy’s family (mother and siblings) began to scream, wail, cry, and shout “My brother, my son,” in Amharic.  Each family member had two people holding their arms as they flailed and expressed their grief in a very physically way, making sure they didn’t hurt themselves.  The surrounding 200 people began crying loudly as well, also wailing

and expressing sorrow.

Notice all the people in white filling the streets near the back of the picture.  They are leaving the church after a "lekso bet."

This is a net'ela, and the blue patterned side is worn around your face for funeral ceremonies.  For all other times (daily wearing, going to church, holidays), net'elas are worn with the plain white around your face and the pattern at the bottom, toward your legs.

After about 10 minutes, the large crowd formed a circle, with the boy’s mother and a few other women in the center.  There was some call and response chanting between those in the center and those in the surrounding circle, involving hitting your chest with your hands after what seemed to be each “chorus”.  I couldn’t understand all of what was being sung and chanted, but after a woman in the center would chant a few lines, the crowd would loudly say what sounded like “Why, why, why.”  There was much loud weeping and wailing, and it was extremely powerful and emotional; an experience that I will absolutely never forget.  I couldn’t help but weep as my heart was breaking for this family, and as it made me think of my family far away and how much they mean to me.

The entire “crying ceremony” lasted approximately 30 minutes, and then everyone solemnly and silently walked away from the church.  Over the following days, community members went to the family’s home to show their support, give money, and in a somber way, grieve.  At the family’s home people might stay for 10-30 minutes and visit, and eat k’olo (a roasted barley and chick pea mix).

This powerful experience has really made me think about grief and how different cultures express grief, especially in the context of the death of a community or family member.  I am still processing this experience and I have a lot more to learn about grief and funeral ceremonies in the Ethiopian cultural context, but it seems that the “crying ceremony” allows the family members and the community to really express their grief in a physical way, before they continue solemnly grieving, and it seems that this physical and powerful expression of grief may help the family and community to mourn.

This experience reminded me truly how short and precious life is, and that I must truly embrace it; it is so easy to take it for granted.