STORYTELLER
Graveyardshift
"There is much more in long hour-land trip than sightseeing and drowsing, lunch stops and pee-stops, check points and quarantines. The number of funeral parlors and cemeteries I saw along the way remind me to celebrate life everyday. . ."
The angels guarding the desolate lands of the soul looks lonelier from afar, their gaze seem to follow me. The stairs of cold tombstones are increasing trying to reach the heavens. While the caskets in white, gold, silver and bronze are lining up waiting to be occupied. And somewhere around the town, a family is crying for the loss of a loved one.
Every 60 km or so, for each town or municipality in a 540 kilometer stretch there is a cemetery and one or three at most competing funeral parlors. There are grand funeral parlors with big chandeliers and grand memorial parks with big mausoleums. On the other hand there are not so grand funeral parlors with small ordinary coffins on display and not so grand public cemeteries with small pathways.
It made me think the risk I have taken to make this 9-hour land trip. What if I the driver lost his sense for a moment and the bus jumped off the cliff? What if the break went loose and our bus crushed to the mountainsides? What if a petroleum truck hits our bus and we'll be sent off in flames? What if someone left a bomb in one of the bags in the luggage compartment? What if we were ambushed by the MILF? I would die and probably would end up in one of the funeral parlors here in Mindanao and my body transported back in my hometown and in two weeks time I will be buried 6 feet below the ground beside my grandparents in Calinog Public Cemetery. What a thought! Knock on wood! I said to myself, but really these fears hit me while I was traveling and I can't do anything but wait for it to happen, and while it's not happening I decided to just enjoy the sceneries, the company of my seatmate, the crispness and saltiness of the junkfood I'm eating, the smell of menthol balm and drowse my mind with happy memories until I reach the final terminal. And how thankful I am to be alive!
The squatters squeezed in a small lot only about a half of the land area of a cemetery in a 3rd class municipality is ironic. Long before I already wonder why the government by the request of the church rewards such land area for the dead. If we try to sum up the land area the cemeteries occupy in the whole Philippines, I think it would be as big as a province. Including the subdivision sized private memorial parks for the elite it would make another region and cemeteries around the world would make a continent.
Economically speaking, cemeteries are impractical. But it is necessary! Besides the tradition of respecting and remembering the dead, Cemetery is a landmark just as a funeral parlor. A landmark that reminds us that nothing lives forever.
There is a subtlety in its presence that pre-conditions our mind that yes, this is where I'm going, soon I will be dead just like the others, somehow it helps us accept death as part of human cycle and letting go becomes easy.
I grew up in the constant sight of coffins being polished to its finest, in the familiar scent of formaldehyde escaping from the exhaust in the morgue adjacent to our backdoor, and the scent of burning candles and fresh and wilting flowers and the sounds of grief and disbelief. My family owns a funeral parlor. Surrounded by the sight, smell and feeling of death still I try to deny the idea of death, I refuse to believe that there is death. My neighbor died, the mother of my classmate died, the boyfriend of my aunt died, my grandparents died, my dog died, my cat died, my fish died, but I never saw them dead! I refuse to see them inside the coffin not because of fear but to preserve my memory of them being alive, and I never cried.
I could've have been reminded by the already existing funeral parlor next door but it's become a common and familiar sight it did not affect me at all. But when I've gone to travel and saw different kind of cemeteries and funeral parlors in different shade and mood of the day, it reminded me of my mortality and how little time I have to enjoy life, I'd rather celebrate every breath I take...