Grieving in Another Language

Grief is universal. Someone dies, you feel sad. It's the same everywhere, it's the same in every language. But how we deal with those feelings... that's where our practices can differ.

The mourning tradition here in Quinhagak is an interesting mix of traditional Yup'ik values and Christian rites. When someone dies, the family hosts what's called, in English, a "Wake Feast." Basically, this means that the house of the berieved (in this case, the widow) is open to the entire village, day and night. Anyone can, and is expected to, come over and eat. You bring food, of course, but the grieving family hosts the event in their home.

In some ways, this seems like a big stressor for the grieving family. The idea is that it keeps those in mourning productive and gives them something positive into which they can pour their energy. In that respect, I totally get it. Also, having tons and tons of food available means that everyone will stop by, not just those close to the deceased. Conversations can turn to normal things. Kids are there, and they do the cute things that kids do.

On the other hand, though, grieving is tiring, physically and mentally. Adding one more task (a huge one at that) on top of the draining act of grieving must be difficult. Having to welcome a constant stream of people, sometimes welcome, sometimes not, into your home may be nice when you want company, but what about those moments when you want to be alone?

Anyway, we went to the feast this evening... I had agutak (eskimo ice cream... it's tasty if you don't think about the ingredients...) and moose soup and popcorn and cookies and felt a little guilty about invading the home of the grieving the whole time. I knew I shouldn't feel guilty, but that's the Midwestern Catholic in me... we're good at feeling bad about things.