Please toss my bones

Sundays are usually quiet in my village. Yesterday even more, as most people celebrated el dia de los muertos and went to the churchyard to put flowers on the graves.

As I told you before both my parents are from Madagascar. They live in France but often go back to the red island. Last week I spoke to my father on the phone before he went back there. He said, he wanted me and my sisters to come over in August, that it was a matter of great importance. It will be two years that one of my uncles died and his bones need to be "tossed over".

I actually cannot find the right phrase in English. In French, we call this ceremony: "le retournement des morts", literally meaning, "the turning over of the dead". You see, even if most people in Madagascar are catholic or protestant like my parents – due to the presence of missionaries in the past – they strongly maintain their traditions towards death. In Madagascar, you just don't die and that's it.

You die and then after two or three years, the family consults a soothsayer who decides that now is the time to exhume your body and toss over the bones. This tradition is called the “famadihana”. Its aim is to give some peace to the dead person and honour him/her. The exhumed body is first carried by a procession of musicians. The whole affair is supposed to be a very happy event, attended sometimes by a hundred of persons, namely the members of the family, guests and people from the village.

Then the bones are carefully cleaned according to a ritual procedure and wrapped into a piece of white silk, which is called a “lamba”. The “lamba” is also a traditional Malagasy piece of clothing, like a big shawl, which women wrap around their shoulders - I remember having seen black and white photos of my grandmother wearing a tailored suit and a silk lamba over her shoulders. She looked so dignified and elegant –

In turn, the members of the family come and talk to the corpse, ask for some advice, sing a song and even dance with the corpse. Gifts are made, it can be food, photographs, money…The oldest members of the family deliver a speech. Malagasy speeches are also a vivid tradition and are non ending ! There is a lot to drink and to eat; a zebu might be killed for the occasion. Everybody is very happy but lots of tears are also shed.

I attended a “famadihana” many years ago, when I was a teenager and was greatly impressed. Actually, the only occasions I went to Madagascar were to attend a funeral or a “famadihana”.
I have a slight pang in my heart when I realize that one day, hopefully in a very very long time, I will have to celebrate the death of my parents.