Groaning for burial

Back in the 'old days', at the start of the AIDS epidemic in Indonesia, there was thought to be a regulation that the body of anyone who died of the disease should be wrapped in plastic. I have never managed to confirm that this rule ever existed; I suspect it was a hang-over from the assumption that HIV is a contagious disease.

Back in 1993, when my partner died, the hospital and the morticians informed us that the body must be swathed in plastic, particularly as it was to be flown back to his home town for burial. Since he had arranged for the customary viewing, we obviously wanted to avoid the use of a body bag. I discussed this with Mary, the lovely Irish matron at the hospital, and she said, "Leave it me".

It was Mary who washed the body, and dressed him, as he had previously requested, in his best suit and tie. She then arranged to buy what the English call a 'plastic mac', a raincoat made of plastic. She then put this on over the suit, making it as discreet as possible.

It did look a bit curious, and some of his friends wondered whether it was the monsoon season in heaven, but it was a lot better than a plastic bag!

I was reminded of this as a I was re-reading Suzana's poem, Together Building Hope. Her partner was less lucky than mine, as she notes in the poem:

At this moment I see
How you are inhumanely isolated by people in your community.
I witness in my mind's eye
As your body is wrapped in plastic
While your soft blanket that I recognize
Is thrown into a hot flame
That glows of strong rejection of yourself
After much suffering
Because of the virus.

Do read (and perhaps weep a little over) this poem. Over the next few weeks, we'll try to add some more of Suzana's poetry and prose in English on the Spiritia web site.

Babé