How do people die in Indonesia

www.thejakartapost.com/news/2012/02/29/how-do-people-die-indonesia.html

From death comes life

                                 From death comes life

                         By Farsijana Adeney-Risakotta

We all shocked of the death of our brother John Franklin Risakotta,  even though he seemed not shocking to die. He was sleeping beautifully. I told him before we closed his coffin that he appeared more handsome than his performance when he got married three months ago before his death. I thought he was happy to hear that.

We were all shock. He died by himself only with God. My father died in the same way. Nobody knew when he was gone.  We came to his room he already went during his sleep.

I could see his faith to God that brought him so peacefully. It was his gift for all of us. He inherited his loving and peaceful face as if he was sent back to earth to tell us about how wonderful to live in heaven. 

He had truly lived with his faith as his favorite reading from the Bible coloring his last life as we all have seen.

I am writing down Psalm 23:

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want;

he makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters;

he restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for his name's sake

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I fear no evil;

for thou art with me;

thy rod and thy staff,

they comfort me"

After our Christian pray at home yesterday at noon, bu Tum, the wife of our RT (neighborhood organization), pak Supri, a Muslim came to ask for "ayat bacaan" (reading from scripture) that needed to be inserted in the box of thanksgiving  for my brother’s  seven days of departure. I gave his favorite Psalm to ibu Tum to put into the boxes of meals. 

Women of our neighborhood prepared the meals and  included  the "ayat bacaan"  into the box of meal before they distributed to the whole RT. She also asked whether we needed to bring all boxes firstly to our home before they were distributed. I told them to take directly from the house of bu Nardi who was the head of the cook.

I approached them after they came back from delivering the packages. It was just right time before the dinner. Before people opened the box of meal, they prayed to thank God for their birth and life which do not choose a particular people. Seeing other people death likes reflecting to our own when we have to be ready any time.

Moreover, in the Bible says that your neighbor is your family and it is true. I remember  my colleague,bu Siti Ruhaini Dzuhayatin from UIN, came to our gathering during the Ramadhan at our home, and shared the teaching of the Prophet Muhammad to ask people sharing their meals when the smelt of their cook spread out across the wall.

In our neighborhood, I could see what people practices the teaching of the Prophet Muhammad. In the time of suffering, what neighbor could do is to enlighten the burden of those who are in mourning. Our return to their love is to do the same things as what we are taught in our religious teaching.

Bible says you shall love your neighbor as yourself (Mark 12: 31). The Lord our God, the Lord is one, and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength (Mark 12: 29).

Living is doing as everyone knows birth, life and death to bring people closely to each other as a family both among our own biological fam and our society where we live.

How do People Die in Indonesia?

How do People Die in Indonesia?

Dear Family, Friends and Colleagues,

            This week my brother, in February 6^th, John Franklin Risakotta died.  He was 42 years old.  John, Farsijana’s younger brother, lived with us for about 5 years including the past three months after he married Ely.  John was a gentle soul who did not find life easy but loved to joke.  He and Ely carried various jobs to eck out a living.  In our household he was always ready to help and supported our service in the community, especially by running errands and driving people hither and yon.  We do not know why he died.  He was in good health.  On the morning of his death he was joking around, playing with our 2 year old niece, changing a flat tire for his sister in law and (uncharacteristically for an Indonesia male), washing the dishes.  He gave his wife a hug and kiss and went to take a shower.  She found him on the bathroom floor, not breathing.  There were no signs of a heart attack or stroke and he had no known history of illness.  Perhaps he was the victim of Sudden Unexpected Death Syndrome, or Cardiac Arrest.  This is fairly common in young, Southeast Asian males.  His heart just stopped.  God called him home.  As he lay in the coffin in our living room, everyone was struck by how beautiful and peaceful he looked.  Our family is now in the house of sorrow.  This week we have wept an ocean of tears.

            How do Indonesians die?  First of all, they seem to die more often.  When I first arrived in Indonesia, the young, high school phy-ed teacher who taught our kids sports died of tetnus after a minor accident.  Later, the pregnant daughter of our household handyman (Sungkono) died of TB because she couldn’t afford the medicine the doctor prescribed.  Many people die of causes that would not be considered life threatening in the West.  I moved to Indonesia when I was 40 and had only attended 4 or 5 funerals in my whole life.  During my past 20 years in Indonesia it’s more like 4 or 5 funerals per year.  Death seems so much closer.

            Secondly, Indonesians die in community.  I don’t know if the rate of death is much higher than in the West.  Over the past 50 years life expectancy in Indonesia has risen from about 40 years to almost 70, because of vastly improved nutrition, education and health care.  But death is a very public event.  John died around noon.  That evening and in the morning, although John is a Christian, his death was announced over the loud speaker from our local mosque as Berita Duka, News of Sorrow.  By afternoon, our Muslim neighbors had already brought chairs to set up in our garden and street to accommodate the many guests who would begin to arrive.  By evening village leaders had closed off the street and set up huge tents to keep the sun and rain off those who were already arriving to mourn.  The villagers all came to melayat, share in our mourning.  People came from our Christian university, but also the Islamic university and the national university where we teach.  Many came from his church and our church.  Women came from various chapters of the Indonesian Women’s Coalition (KPI) in part because John often drove KPI members for meetings, cultural events and disaster relief.  Many came who had never met John, just because they knew us.  The funeral service and burial were held the day after his death.  By that time hundreds had passed through our house where we served them snacks and they viewed John’s body.  Most left an envelope with a monetary gift to lighten the sorrow.

            Thirdly, Indonesians die ecumenically.  Traditionally, everyone who knows a grieving relative of a person who died, will come to grieve with them, without regard for their religion, race or ethnic background.  On the night of John’s death, leaders from his church came to pray and sing around the body.  Some Muslims observed and others sat outside under the tents.  The next morning church leaders held a more formal service, followed by an ecumenical ceremony including speeches from village leaders.  I shared my impressions of Johns gentleness and toughness.  “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”  John has inherited a new earth.  The coffin was closed amid unbearable lamentations.  Then we pushed the coffin on a cart to the village graveyard, where a few Christian graves are interspersed with many Muslim ones.  In Indonesia there is a disturbing growth in religious intolerance, discrimination against minorities and attempts at religious separation (apartheid).  Fortunately the intolerant are still a small minority who are running against the grain of centuries of relative harmony between different religious communities.  Our family, like many in Indonesia, includes both Christians and Muslims.

            Fouthly, Indonesians, like people everywhere, experience great sorrow at the death of those they love.  Traditionally Indonesians of different religions hold services not only on the days of death and burial, but also 7 days, 30 days, 100 days and 1,000 days after a person dies.  It is never easy.  Frankly, just days after his death, I find it hard to move, hard to breathe.  I feel like I am stumbling around in darkness.  I’m still not pasrah, “submitted to the will of God.”  I rushed home when they found his body and vainly used CPR to try to make him breathe and start his heart.  At home and all the way to the hospital: blow, pump, blow, pump.  But he was gone. 

My son Peter wrote, “Dad, I love you.  I wish I could be there to breathe with you.  I guess I am.”  So that is the task of the living:  to breathe.  And more than that, to breathe together.

            Yours in sorrow,

            Bernie and Farsijana (Nona) Adeney-Risakotta