Funeral in Pbongnok

Pastor Somboon’s mother had recently passed away—it came as a sudden shock to everyone. Last I heard, she had a migraine headache, laid down to sleep, and that night, had a cerebral aneurysm. Somboon and his sisters, Mai and Oua, and their families, drove 5 hours and rushed down to Chiang Mai to see her as soon as possible. The next day around afternoon, she was officially pronounced dead. Everyone was devastated—she was only 52.

I received a call about the news that very day and decided to make a trip to their village to support them in their time of need. I knew that this would include having to stay in the village for a few days without the support of another foreigner—I would be the only one around. Village living conditions are vastly different from the comforts of the city I’m used to. Yet, the Lord gave me these verses to encourage me:

“…When you do good and suffer, if you endure, it brings favor with God. For you were called to this, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in His steps.”      -1 Peter 2:20-21

Because it was in a village far from the main roads, I had no idea how I was going to get there. Yet, I put my trust in the Lord and He lead the way. That morning, I woke up thinking, “Okay, Lord! I’m ready to go on an adventure with You today! Lead me!” On days like these, it’s always difficult to go through it, yet it usually (if not always) comes out to be the most miraculous days ever! I figured out the public transportation system of Chiang Mai by speaking with the Thai staff at my apartment. Then, someone sent me on their motorbike to the highway nearby to climb onto a songtaew taxi to meet Mai’s daughter, Pla, and her friend, at their school where we would go together. A friendly passenger in the songtaew assisted me on where to get off (though I missed my stop and had to figure out where I was), and, while waiting for them, met random Hmong students at the post office and we went out for coffee together (yay, I made new friends^^). There, I met them, boarded on two more songtaews, and headed up the mountain in the sun and rain in yet another rickety songtaew for 2 hours (part of the time, it was crammed full of way too many people and their random packages—quite the experience! J). When we got to the last stop, a local marketplace, one of my friends recognized one of her many relatives from the village and we hopped in their truck on the way back. Yay! Success!

In this village, they had running water and electricity but no hot water and internet. Nevertheless, I had an amazing and blessed time in Pbongnok these past couple of days. While assisting in the cooking, the dish washing, the serving, and the bussing of tables, I was able to connect with the people there, one of which was a widow, an orphan, a concubine, and some others who just didn’t seem to be getting their share in life. By the Lord’s grace, some had already come to know the Christ personally as their Savior. As for the ones who hadn’t, it gave me great opportunity to testify about God’s love and faithfulness. I actually ended up leading a woman in prayer to receive Christ that night—a first for me! J Her name is Yua (Hmong = Nyuam). It was quite obvious that the Holy Spirit had already been tilling and working away at her heart. She has sat through many church services, according to what she told me, and listened to the teachings of the Bible with great interest as she found out how relevant it was to her life. I worry for her, however, because her husband is an influential man in the community who, as I have heard, is very controlling, drinks much alcohol, and takes a firm stand against believers. Please include Yua in your prayers. I plan to follow-up with her on this life-changing decision and am asking the Lord to keep her from retreating from the faith when trials come her way.

I can’t believe how difficult it is for the family who has just lost their loved ones. I consider Somboon and Mai to be good friends of mine, and so seeing what they had to go through this past week made me realize how tiring a traditional Hmong funeral can be (their mother was a believer but their father isn’t so you can guess what the elders decided on). Not only did they have to entertain guests every moment of every day until the burial, they had to make arrangements for cooking, cleaning, oversee the killing of pigs, cows, chickens, making sure everything was in order for the rituals, etc. Not only that, but they had to stay up as late as they could to “zov hmo” (literally translates as “guard night”) every single night. The family members barely got sleep—some nights, 3 hours. Other nights, 20 minutes. Can you imagine doing this for one week? I’m telling you, it’s crazy! My heart really goes out to them. Not only have they suffered a great loss in the family, but they have to oversee many of the responsibilities of this event. Like Mai said, “khwv siab khwv zog” (exhausted heart, exhausted strength). 

It was inspiring to see the community coming together to help out their relatives. That’s what I love about this culture—family is there for each other. However, it’s quite sad when I’ve seen too many times how people build up walls in accordance to what they believe their religion teaches, no matter what country they’re in. God calls us to love one another—and that means being there for each other.

“…Keep your love for one another at full strength, since love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaining. Based on the gift they have received, everyone should use it to serve others, as good manages of the varied grace of God” (1 Peter 4:8-10).

I wanted to kick myself for not knowing the ins-and-outs of what a traditional funeral consisted of. During high school, I remember doing research on these rituals, the beliefs about the spirits, etc. but it was quite another thing to see it in real life. I definitely need to look further into this so that I can know what’s important to our people and why they hold the beliefs they do.

Another aspect of this experience for me was simply getting the feel for what village life is really like. You would get up early in the morning, like 6:30, shower, make breakfast, clean, and if you don’t go to the garden and farm during the day, you stay at home where you can xaws paj ntaub (do needlework/sew clothing), watch movies, sleep, whatever (this would be very difficult for me—as a Westerner, I always want to busy myself with doing something I feel is useful—and I don’t enjoy sewing—sorry guys! I would make a terrible traditional wife! haha). During one of those days, sometime in the afternoon, I was really tired and wanted to catch up on my rest so I returned to Mai’s house for a short nap. I opened all the doors and windows to get a good breeze going before I dozed off on their plastic mat on the ground (Hmong = “lev”). Right then, one of their aunts nearby dropped off her baby at the doorstep and left to unload her groceries at her place. For a moment, I just kind of stared at the baby that was sitting inside the house in the middle of the doorway. What…? I thought to myself. What am I supposed to do with this baby? I just want to sleep…*sigh* I made myself get up and do the respectable thing—take out sitting stools, the fruit, and entertain the guests. Just then, more and more women stopped in with their kids—these women were around my age or younger. Others, local men, decided to drop in too (joy^^). It made me realize how difficult it must be to live in a village with so many potential prospects living just around the corner—and with the Hmong marriage policy of “take me to your house and I’m yours,” it really gave me the heebie jeebies. 

One thing that did cheer me up though, was hearing a kid (one of Mai’s nephews) singing Christian songs at the top of his lungs everywhere he went. There was so much joy in him. It turned out that he had learned to sing and dance to these songs through one of the outreach ministries of a nearby university. He was in some respect mentally retarded, being that he didn’t speak clearly nor were his physical limbs in the regular position it should be in. Yet, it was such a delight to see and hear him every day. During one instance when he was in the middle of a song, his father angrily shouted at him and he immediately stopped in fear. My heart sank as I remembered going through the painful motions myself. Parents really need to know how to treat their kids…they need to know God who can teach them how to lead a life that is righteous, just, and filled with integrity in every way (Prov. 2:9). 

Gradually, my eyes are being more open to the lives and needs of our people. Originally, I had planned to go to a youth conference that was held especially for the Hmong in Southeast Asia. However, God had lead me here instead. Many times it was difficult for me because I wasn’t sure how to comfort someone in the Hmong culture, nor did I know how to cook certain dishes, utilize their only available resources, and even communicate the way that Hmong-Thais do. Yet, the Lord lovingly provided me with this amazing opportunity to jump right in and learn fast. lol. I love how God works! :)

 

Please keep Pastor Somboon, Mai, and their family in your prayers. They are very dear people to me. Their mother was a very kind and generous woman who was taken by the Lord at such an unexpected time. Pray that they will be comforted by God who is “the source of all comfort” (2 Cor. 1:3) and that they will be strong and stand firm in the faith (1 Cor. 16:13-14). Thanks be to God that we have the assurance that He “will raise us from the dead by His power, just as He raised our Lord from the dead” (1 Cor. 6:14).