Funeral Crashing

Yesterday afternoon I was walking to the post office when I came across a number of my colleagues. They were standing around and comforting one of the teachers at my school whose husband had passed away, waiting for the cafe/bar to open for the post-service meal. I of course felt awkward walking by, especially since I'm relatively close to this teacher and I was unable to attend the funeral because I had volunteered to stay in the school and monitor while others attended. To not come off as completely cold, I walked up to my colleague and expressed my condolences. She insisted that I stay for the dinner. I had no choice.

The dinner was much like other celebrations I've experienced in Ukraine. Long tables were set up to serve over a hundred people. At each place setting there was a loaf of bread with a candle. After a moment of silence, the candles were lit and the vodka was served. The food was also served family style (I'm starting to think that having your own dish of food is only common in restaurants here). It's still hard to get used to sharing plates and utensils crossing paths, but that is the Ukrainian custom. There were about a dozen different types of dishes. The food served was the same food that I've been served at holidays, birthdays, and seen in photos of weddings. I found it kind of funny how whenever a dish was finished, it was replaced with another dish of food. The second/third/fourth dish was always something more artery-clogging than the previous item, which kind of boggles my mind. At the end, we were served soup dishes used as Jello molds. That's another thing that is kind of hard to get used to; pretending Jello is a delicacy or party food. At the end of the meal, we all stood up at the same time, taking our loaves of bread and thanking our hosts for their hospitality.

Living in a village has its perks. I won't say attending a funeral dinner is one of them, but after talking to other volunteers and occasionally stepping back from my day, I realize how unique my experience is. I'm truly part of the community and am viewed as a family member. People treat me as their own daughter and show sincere interest in my well-being. I have so little quiet time and free time because people want to be a part of my life and I can appreciate that.