The Village Funeral
My last two weeks in Slovakia have been spent house-sitting in the small village of Adamovske Kochanovce, about 10 km SW of Trencin. It seems to be a typical village with kind neighbors who invite you to lunch, a local store, half the size of a 7-11, open until 4 pm (closed Sunday and Monday), and two pubs that open at 3 pm. There are two bus stops so I suppose it’s a fairly large village, perhaps 2,000 people and the local attraction in the mineral spring at the edge of the village where you can fill up on natural, carbonated water. While I’ve been here I’ve walked the dogs through the wheat fields, almost to the Czech border, climbed a tree trying to get the pure bread Russian housecat down, and attended one funeral.
Neighbors are the foundation of village life. You sit down and have long lunches with them. You share Jablokovitca and pivo’s, play cards, they help you when you blow a fuse and the electricity goes out, everything. They are as close as family. This week, the neighbor’s wife died. Perhaps in her late 50’s, she fell off a ladder at the nursery school where she has taught every child in the village, fell into a coma and passed away. Today was her funeral.
The entire village seemed to be present, wearing black and white and carrying an even number of flowers in their bouquets. The church was standing room only, and by the end there were only a few dry eyes. A brass band of eight played music on the street while the village filed in, and at the end of the service they led the procession up to the cemetery where a song was sung by the priest and the casket was lowered. The cemetery is on the edge of town, bordering wheat fields and small garden plots with ripe cabbage and beets. The end of the procession had barely left the church by the time the head had reached the cemetery. It was an impressive, though solemn sight.
By the time I returned to the house the rain started to fall, light at first, then thunder and a downpour. It seems a fitting end to the funeral, my stay in the village, and my first trip to Slovakia. In a day and a half I will be heading to Vienna, London, than Seattle. It will be a brief stay in the states before I return in August. Uvidime.
Neighbors are the foundation of village life. You sit down and have long lunches with them. You share Jablokovitca and pivo’s, play cards, they help you when you blow a fuse and the electricity goes out, everything. They are as close as family. This week, the neighbor’s wife died. Perhaps in her late 50’s, she fell off a ladder at the nursery school where she has taught every child in the village, fell into a coma and passed away. Today was her funeral.
The entire village seemed to be present, wearing black and white and carrying an even number of flowers in their bouquets. The church was standing room only, and by the end there were only a few dry eyes. A brass band of eight played music on the street while the village filed in, and at the end of the service they led the procession up to the cemetery where a song was sung by the priest and the casket was lowered. The cemetery is on the edge of town, bordering wheat fields and small garden plots with ripe cabbage and beets. The end of the procession had barely left the church by the time the head had reached the cemetery. It was an impressive, though solemn sight.
By the time I returned to the house the rain started to fall, light at first, then thunder and a downpour. It seems a fitting end to the funeral, my stay in the village, and my first trip to Slovakia. In a day and a half I will be heading to Vienna, London, than Seattle. It will be a brief stay in the states before I return in August. Uvidime.
posted by Karen at
9:03 AM
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