Meet Me at the Cemetery for Tea This Afternoon
By “Awake!” correspondent in Uruguay
IT WAS a timid knock and I went to the door expecting the usual sight—a ragged barefoot youngster asking for empty bottles or anything one has to offer. How nice it was to see instead a clean, neat child with a smiling face. I recognized her, said “Pase” (Come in), and watched as she sat down on the low chair I offered. She arranged her dress so as to leave no wrinkle. Though only six, she had learned the value of being careful with her best dress.
“Mamma wants an answer,” she said, extending an envelope held tightly in her little hand. The message read: “Can you meet me in the cemetery for tea this afternoon?”
Now a cemetery can be a sad place or a pleasant one, depending on how it is kept and on one’s knowledge of the state and hope of the dead. The North Cemetery in Montevideo is beautifully kept, and in October, springtime hereabouts, it is a lovely place. Flowers bloom and grass is green here throughout the year, but at this time of the year the plants and flowers seem to outdo themselves. People consider it an obligation to show their love and respect for their dead by bringing flowers regularly. It matters not whether the remains are in a tomb or in an urn, there is continual demand for flowers. Conveniently, there is a large flower market at the cemetery entrance. Here I met my hostess.
The Flower Market
Arranged as they were in neat rows, the flowers were beautiful to see. As we walked among them my friend pointed out that each stall was privately owned, and the owners rivaled one another in displaying their blooms. One stall owner informed us that millions of pesos are spent annually at this market, though this is but one of several cemeteries in Montevideo. He offered us a bouquet, but we declined with the explanation that we were just visiting.
At the same time we took the opportunity of explaining to him our hope for the dead, our expectation that those sleeping in death will one day be awakened, as stated at John 5:28, 29: “Do not marvel at this, because the hour is coming in which all those in the memorial tombs will hear [the Son of man’s] voice and come out.” We also mentioned that the unconscious dead could not be benefited by the flowers, though the bleak outlook of the survivors would doubtless be offset somewhat by the color and delicate beauty of the blooms.
The Cemetery
“We will take a tour first,” said my hostess, “and then have our tea. I want to show you the grounds and the different methods of entombment here.” It appears that the land is municipally owned, and watchmen patrol the grounds. A maintenance crew dispose of wilted flowers. However, the families of the deceased are responsible for the care of the tombs.
As we walked, my companion pointed out the tombs of the wealthy, mainly houses owned by mutual societies to whom clients pay a specified amount each month. In return they take care of all the burial arrangements. Beyond these is the very old section where the dead used to be placed in the ground and left permanently. According to the law, these burial places had to be five feet deep. Now, however, because of lack of space, these remains are being removed and placed in community graves.
Space economy here has also developed another procedure. The dead are being removed from the tomb after a period of from two to ten years (ten years if death was by contagious disease, and two years if for any other cause). They are reduced to bones or to ashes and then placed in urns that are stored in niches built for the purpose. These secondary burials may be individual as is generally the case here in eastern South America, or collective as in the pre-Christian burial mounds of Europe where all the deceased of a tribe may be involved.
Monuments of marble, granite and other ornamental stone abound. Here and there a single tomb may be noted, but often it is a family tomb. In some family tombs in Montevideo steps lead down to a room under the monument where a place is prepared for each member of the family. To visit these, notice must be given in advance and the caretaker will have the tomb open.
The idea of the family tomb is by no means new. They were in use in ancient Rome, and ruins of some of them may still be seen along the Appian Way. The inhabitants of Palestine in patriarchal times also had family sepulchers, utilizing a natural cave perhaps, or man-made caverns cut in the solid rock.
The Wall Tombs
Something else again are the wall tombs. Some of them, built entirely inside the cemetery, may be from two to ten deposits high. It is rather odd to look up and think that there are many, many dead in cement tombs high up in the air; though it proves to be a very practical way of solving the space problem. Ornamental plants around the base of these structures help to relieve the monotony of the cement.
Another type of wall tomb is what is known as the tubulares or tubes, so called from the way they are constructed. Cement tubes are built up row on row along the cemetery driveway, with open ends facing the driveway. They are set in earth, connected to one another by vents with a gas-escape tube at the end of each row. When the remains have been deposited in one of the tubes it is immediately sealed off by cementing a simple facing over the hole. The family may later wish to put a special plaque on top.
Mutual burial societies help in cemetery space conservation. Tombs in their walls reach up to the roof on the outside of the building and to the ceiling on the inside. We visited one, the Casa Galicia, a beautiful modern building. White marble burial walls cover two sides, and in front is an open patio with a pool and growing plants. Elevators take one down to many floors underground, where, it is said, they have room for half a million dead, including those in the urn section.
But here it is time for tea, and as I follow my hostess I note a most encouraging inscription on one building. It says: “DESPERTAD Y CANTAD LOS QUE YACEN EN EL POLVO PORQUE ROCIO DE LUZ ES SU ROCIO Y LA TIERRA DEVOLVERA LOS MUERTOS.” Literally translated in English this means: “Awake and sing those who repose in the dust, because dew of light is your dew and the earth will give up the dead.”—See Isaiah 26:19.
Teatime
My hostess had climbed a little knoll and set down the tea basket under an old ombu tree. To her, tea was really maté, served hot and sipped from a gourd cup through a bombilla, a metal tube with a strainer at one end. It is most refreshing and inexpensive. As she spread the neat luncheon cloth on the ground between us and began unwrapping little cakes and other items, I noted only one maté and one bombilla. Would she expect me to share hers as is the custom here?
As if in answer to my thoughts, out of the basket came a cup and saucer. Perhaps there was a look of relief on my face, for she laughed and said: “I knew you would prefer tea, so I brought this for you.” My heart warmed toward her. Not just because of the tea, but because it was so typical of that lovely Uruguayan hospitality. They are so thoughtful in the smallest of details! I lost no time in showing appreciation for a delicious cup of tea.
As my cup was refilled and the last of the little cakes had disappeared, I asked: “Is it true that the dead from the German battleship, the Graf Spee, are buried here in this North Cemetery? I remembered the excitement of those times when the famous “pocket battleship” was cornered by three British warships in this area back in 1939. Thinking that British reinforcements had arrived and rather than risk capture of the battleship, the Germans scuttled their own ship.
“Yes, it is true,” my friend answered, and then went on to explain. In a plot of ground enclosed by evergreens there are the graves of the Graf Spee’s dead. A mound of dirt covers each one, with a simple marker at the head of each. They are kept up by local German people. No flowers are allowed, but each grave is clothed with an evergreen creeper, commonly called the grape vine.
But now it is time to go. We shall have to visit the Graf Spee burial spot another time, and also the crematorium, where, at times, the dead lie in line waiting their turn, just as the living outside wait their turn for so many things.
Cremation is quite common in Uruguay. In Montevideo it is free and has no special significance. A written statement before one’s death is usually requested, though such is not indispensable. As a practical means of disposing of the dead and at the same time conserving space, we had seen the evidences that cremation makes sense.
As we depart now, we cannot but remember Jehovah’s reassuring promise to bring the dead back to life, those of them who, in his merciful view, are in line for such a gift. Imagine the hundreds of thousands of these dead ones in this one cemetery who will yet stand up and who will then live as long as they obey their Restorer to life! No doubt they would enjoy having tea in the cemetery just as we did. How wonderful it is to be alive!