WITH ALL DUE RESPECT.

It was a neighbor that passed away…

No, I didn’t know him. In fact I don’t really “know” any neighbors, though I do recognize some.
Anyhow, this post isn’t about me, it’s about the man that passed away — and how interesting and different Russians (Ukrainians) approach the passing and burial of their loved ones.

People die all of the time, obviously. Just like little ones are born all of the time. “The circle of life.” And this circle is quite evident in the concrete jungle in which I live. For lack of a better word, I live in a slum. It’s not dirty or nasty, per se, but it is a concentrated with semi-poor people, and the environment has undoubtedly decayed into what I would say is an unattractive neighborhood, where the quality of life is surely sub-standard in comparison to Western ideals. But more importantly, there is a rotation of people. There’s obviously lots of breeding going on… and surely there’s also lots of elderly passing on.
The man had lived in the [attached] building next to ours. So what’s the big difference? Russians (at least around here) have ceremonies for the dead at their houses. Well, I’m not all that sure about the ceremony part – I’m sorta guessing that there’s some sort of wake that goes on inside –> but the official passing of the body from this world into the next (if you believe in that sort of thing) really begins at the family home. Even if the person did not pass away at their home, the body is brought BACK to the home, and prepared for burial. Again, in this case it was in one of the neighbors from an apartment in the adjacent building.

I don’t want to profess that I know much of anything about funerals, and honestly, I know even less about Russian ones. But I thought it would be a meaningful post to share a bit of what I see around me. I’m sure this is a daily event around here, but this is the first I’ve seen directly in front of our apartment. I’ve seen several ambulances, but only one other funeral. Several months ago at another building in our complex, I was returning from the store and noticed many (semi-formally dressed) people had gathered around the building’s entrance. There was a band playing VERY somber music. Indeed, it was a funeral. I was surprised that funerals were happening right here, in front of our homes. I was interested in what was happening, but I stayed far away and just listened to the band for a few minutes. Definitely — a reality check. And then today, this morning, I saw another funeral – in the building immediately next to ours, whose entrance we can (almost) see from our balcony.

From what I’ve gathered, Russian funerals originate in the family home, with the extended family, friends, colleagues, and acquaintances visiting the residence on the day of the burial. The body is placed into the casket within the sanctuary of the home (probably with only family in attendance), and is then carried outside to the hearse. Surprisingly, to me, they often have open caskets. And the dead are exposed for everyone to see and visually “say goodbye” to. I thought about it for a moment, and realized there’s no way the casket would fit in the elevator (which is quite small in our very typical concrete Russian “hives”). So I’m assuming that the casket is carried down through the stairwell. My wife told me that it is generally it is carried by family members and close friends (similar to elsewhere, I suppose).
To be honest, my curiosity about the event peaked when I saw the hearse back up into the lane in front of our building — an unusual approach. I didn’t know what was going on. I was just peering out of our balcony, and I saw the small bus intentionally reverse into the lane in front of the building. “Why would someone do that,” I asked myself. Then I saw ~20 people or so gathering at the entrance of the building. I’m embarrassed to say that I thought it was a wedding, and the bus was for transport! Then I realized that people were not very joyful at all, and many were wearing black. I then noticed that the hearse (basically a small bus) had all of its window shades drawn – so that you could not see into it at all — and I thought that was a bit odd, indeed. All of my observations took place withing about 15 seconds, and I quickly realized it was a funeral, not at all a wedding.
I couldn’t actually see the door to the building, so I couldn’t tell exactly when things were happening. But sure enough, soon after the hearse stopped I saw people line up on either side at the rear, and the driver of the hearse opened the back hatch.

A young man held up a small (paper-sized) framed picture of the deceased. It was from yesteryear, when the man was in the prime of his life. Most of the women wore scarves on their heads, and many men had scarves tied around their arms. Others held flowers or supported standing wreaths. The top of the casket came out of the apartment building entrance first. And then the man in his final resting place. I took a couple of pictures with the utmost respect, only to share my experience with others that, like me, have never seen or really experienced such an event. I blurred the man’s face to maintain anonymity, in respect of him and the rest of his family.

I was moved, emotionally. I know that people die. But in my experience (in the West), death is something that people don’t want to be too close to. Here, it’s a bit more raw – where outright displays of emotions – respect and adoration – for the man (or woman) that has passed is allowable, and even fostered in a final exposed exodus from one’s residence.

May this man, and all men, women, and children that have lived on this earth -

Rest In Peace.