Kiki Goes Home: PART 2

Family and Friends,

Please enjoy part 2 of 3 of "Kiki Goes Home."  We are doing well in Haiti and enjoying the adventure.  God Bless!  -The Grimms

PART TWO: Kiki's Funeral

We took two vehicles to Kiki's funeral in Les Cayes, about 15 miles (but close to 40 minutes!) from our village. Mike and Pam drove the pick-up truck, jammed full of members of the youth group, and I drove the Isuzu Trooper with members of our staff. Because Mike and Pam were planning on leaving early and heading to Port for a flight later that afternoon, I warned the youth that if they went they were on their own to find a way home and would have to pay for their transportation. That didn't stop many of them from going. I planned all along to pay for them to return on tap-taps, but I didn't broadcast that ahead of time in order to thin out the crowd a bit.

We got there a little after the beginning of the 8 o'clock viewing time, and there was already a lot of activity going on. The church was packed with hundreds of people, yet the small parking lot had only twenty or so cars (one of the nice things about living in a poor country). Some ushers were quickly escorting the crowds past Kiki's casket in order to have a chance to say “farewell.” We got in line with everyone else and went to see him.

As we approached the front, where his parents were seated, there was a great deal of commotion. That would become the theme of the day. People were wailing loudly as they fanned themselves and others in the stiflingly hot church. A group of about ten brass band members were playing a sad song that echoed through the rafters. Friends were almost throwing themselves on Kiki's parents, giving hugs, weeping on their shoulders, and then being encouraged by the ushers to give someone else a chance. Behind them was Ronal, Mission Haiti's friend and trusted driver, patting the back of Kiki's Dad and fanning his mom to keep her from being overwhelmed by the heat of the day, the grief, and the well-wishers.

The funeral itself started at 9 o'clock. The brass band had continued to play as people were seated, and then they ended their share of the program by processing up and down the aisles of the huge church. The building could easily seat 2000, I would guess, and it was close to half full at the height of the event. As the musicians walked by, as a former trumpeter myself I couldn't help admiring their tired old instruments. Any high school band program in the US has thrown nicer horns in the dumpster from time to time, without a doubt, and yet they played with such skill and passion, each member deftly sounding his own part that somehow flowed together with the others.

At some point during the funeral I was thinking about how I might describe this unique event to you, our blog readers. The best thing I could come up with was this...Kiki's funeral was equal parts worship service, music festival, and Michael Jackson concert. Yes, I said Michael Jackson concert. At several points individuals were literally carried out by others as they yelled and contorted with either grief or heat exhaustion or both, I'm not sure. That reminded me of a Michael Jackson concert.

It was very worshipful, though. Let me just take you through a few of the highlights. First of all, there were something like 5 or 6 singing groups and choirs who shared a number during the first hour (thus the music festival comparison). All of them had a different style, and some of them were quite good. None of them had robes, thank goodness because of the heat, but some of them had matching shirts or at least were color coordinated. There was a man who played the roles of worship leader and MC as well. He would get up once in awhile and bridge everything together. There was a memorable moment during the singing of one hymn. The power cut off, silencing the sound system (this almost always happens in church in Haiti), and the people responded by raising their voices even higher in a beautiful, multiple part a capella.

I believe Kiki had three brothers who got up and shared something, but the highlight was when one of his young brothers, who is a doctor, gave a speech that was a kind of eulogy. The dynamics of the speak were absolutely off the charts. First of all, he took out a prepared speech and began to read it very softly and evenly. They had to turn up the mike as he read. After that he gradually began to build in volume and intensity. He also began to look less at the notes and share more from the heart. He had started in French and as the speech progressed, he used more Creole.

There was a moment about midway where he shared some funny stories about Kiki. Kiki was a very loud laugher, and would often accent the ends of sentences quite loudly and emphatically. His brother did an impersonation of Kiki, and the whole crowd (whether we really understood the words or not) had a good laugh, because it sounded just like Him! Just moments later, however, something truly electric happened. The brother said something like, “But it was never supposed to be this way...I go home and my mother is still there...my father is still there...but where is my brother Kiki?”

At that moment Kiki's brother lost it, let out a loud wail, and unabashedly buried his face in the chest of the man who was standing next to him on the platform. Cries and moans went up from dozens of women throughout the crowd, and tears fell to the floor by the thousands. The next several minutes included repetitions of these activities in varying levels of intensity. Finally the speech came down off the mountaintop and was finished and the people gave a collective sigh of relief and hunched in their seats. I myself was proud of these people and their absolute lack of shame at displaying emotion. I is truly a beautiful thing to experience.

Next came the first sermon at about 10:30 (yes, the first sermon). Thankfully it was a fairly laid-back speaker who seemed to do a good job of reassuring people of the promises of God, that those who trust Jesus for salvation and forgiveness of sins will spend eternity with Him in Heaven. Scriptures were read, assurances were given, and “Amen's” were spoken by all. The next preacher was a little bit more fiery, and by that time people were ready to exert a little more energy. He finished up, and the whole funeral was over a few minutes later.

I learned a few things from Kiki's funeral. First of all, funerals in the US are way too short. I think we do that to avoid letting it all hang out in front of everyone. There is a tension during those moments as we mix worship and grief. It is good for our souls to experience that uncomfortableness, and yet we want it over as soon as possible. Also, people get nervous and even irritated when family members share embarrassing stuff of get too emotional in the microphone. But this funeral changed my view of all that in some way. Secondly, it occurred to me to thank God that he spared Kiki in the earthquake last year and allowed his family and friends to have such a special and honoring funeral for him. If he had been buried under a pile or ruble like so many it wouldn't have been the same. Lastly, I learned that life without Kiki will be an adventure. More on that in the next post.

People stepped outside and began to surround the hearse. They processed down the street like that, a car in the middle of the crowd. Sue told me she had seen a similar thing once at a funeral in New Orleans once. As they left we headed to our car and began a new adventure...