A sky burial
Trip Start
Apr 04, 2004
1
21
34
Trip End
Jun 07, 2004
Lhasa,
China
Friday, May 28, 2004
The next day
We wake having had a good supper last night and some of the local fire water. Its very early now because we are going to a funeral. On top of that mountain again with the crafty monks. Tibetan Sky burials are not on your normal list of tours. Some would argue that simply by going you must be a ghoul throwing disrespect upon the dead and their poor family. But we don't intend to cause any disrespect to anyone. We just wish to observe an ancient custom. We are from a world where the newly deceased are hidden away for processing behind closed doors.
A sky burial is common practice in Tibet. Specially ordained monks called body breakers cut the human corpse into small pieces and place it on top of a mountain for vultures to take up into the sky, the heavens. According to Buddhism, the body becomes an empty vessel after death and it is not necessary to keep it. The soul will be reborn. It is therefore an efficient way to dispose of the unwanted carcass. Wood is scarce making the burning of bodies wasteful and expensive. And the ground's too hard for digging holes.
The jeep makes its third ascent to the monastery and from there we walk a trail then out onto a grassy hill and climb up. We can see a pile of corpses and monks chanting. Huge incense burners pump out smoke to cover the smell of death. A family member carries the body of a loved one on his back in a white linen sack. Round and round the heap of bodies he goes. We stand at a respectful distance. I have my scarf up over my face to mask any nasty stench that may waft over here.
There are five bodies in all . One is very bloated and starting to turn blue. It begins. Monks naked from the waist up use huge knives at least a meter in length to begin slicing away the flesh covering the arms and legs . One or two vultures circle overhead. Then a deep cut the length of the body's spine with shorter cuts crossing it at right angles. Off comes the scalp next until all that's left is a bloodied skeleton. The vultures have collected in a much larger number to our right and are kept waiting behind a rope. When there are five skeletons and a pile of flesh in the centre, the rope goes up and in go the birds. Once the meat has gone, the vultures tear at the bones with such force that the skeletons are jerking about like dancers at a voodoo ceremony. I see the remains of a face locked in a pose which reminds me of the famous Herman Muntz painting ' the scream '.
We're about ready for breakfast now as we return to the car and we see birds around us with their bellies full and their entire heads and necks red with human blood. None of us really say a lot.
Next ; Tent life
