Out of all of the fun family events that I could attend (birthday, baptism, confirmation, wedding, quinceanera, etc), I, of course went to a Nicaraguan funeral. I was not particularly close to the deceased. In fact, I don’t believe I ever met her. It was a teacher’s mom so in an act of solidarity, we all went.
As far as I know, this is how death is handled in this country. The night of the passing, family and friends gather at the late person’s home. The group celebrates/commemorates the life and happy memories. The next day, we walked from the house to the church and had a short mass. Quick side note: you know how we do the Lord’s Prayer and the Apostles Creed? Well of course they do it too – in Spanish. But instead of going slowly and saying it altogether; the Nicaraguans may as well be having a verbal race. First one done with the prayer gets communion! I kid but it sounds like a big loud mumble jumble.
After mass, we paraded to the cemetery (led by the pickup truck with the coffin and flowers). Instead of burying with dirt, the most common way seemed to be digging a shallow grave and then covering it with cement.
Hopefully that will be my only funeral, bring on the fiestas please!
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