This film revealed to me what I consider to be a very special niche in the funeral professions. I've long known of embalmers, funeral cosmetologists, hearsemen and funeral masters of ceremonies. But this is the first time, I have encountered "encoffiners" who perform the ritual of enconffinment.
I was impressed by the precision and grace of the encoffiners portrayed in the film. They way the cleaned the bodies, their putting on and removal of blankets, shrouds and clothes without exposing any part of the deceased bodies other than their faces, hands and feet showed deep respect. Why do they take such trouble when the body is destined for cremation anyway? Why all the washing, dressing, shaving and make-up? Obviously, they believe in an after life for, after all, they kept using the phrase "sending off" in reference to what they do.
Their measured and reverent movements evoked in me memories of a Tridentine mass performed by a truly devout priest.
I realize that there are those who find this film boring, weird or allegedly inappropriately acted. As someone who worked closely with Japanese and traveled extensively in Japan, I hope to enlighten them on some aspects of Japanese culture through my anecdotes.
On a visit to the ancient city of Kyoto, my boss proudly announced that he was taking me to a "cha-no-yu," a tea ceremony. I wondered what the big deal was because at the time I would rather be attending a Chinese lauriat or even better, go to a karaoke bar in Tokyo's Ginza. Nevertheless, I was deeply moved by the ceremony. First, I was struck by the respect shown to me by the lady who performed the ceremony who practically kowtowed to me. Her actions in the preparation, serving and drinking of the tea reminded me of the mass, the transubstantiation of the wine into the blood of the Savior and communion.
In two dinner visits to the houses of a Japanese executive and of a newsman, I found their hospitality rather formal but very satisfying as well. In both visits a female sat beside me to serve me. In the first instance, she was the matron of the house. In the second, it was a daughter. They way they presented and served food was almost ritualistic. In both cases, the ladies peeled oranges for me and the delightful surprise was not the taste of the oranges but they way they peeled them so that the peelings when laid on the table looked like flowers.
One night in Kumamoto while I was sleeping, I was awakened by the lady of the house who told me that it was snowing and invited me to come out and watch with her. She led me to the living room where there was a large glass picture window. As we sat on our haunches on the floor and watched the snow cover the lawn and the trees, I realized that she considered that a treat and to me, it was.
I was impressed by the precision and grace of the encoffiners portrayed in the film. They way the cleaned the bodies, their putting on and removal of blankets, shrouds and clothes without exposing any part of the deceased bodies other than their faces, hands and feet showed deep respect. Why do they take such trouble when the body is destined for cremation anyway? Why all the washing, dressing, shaving and make-up? Obviously, they believe in an after life for, after all, they kept using the phrase "sending off" in reference to what they do.
Their measured and reverent movements evoked in me memories of a Tridentine mass performed by a truly devout priest.
I realize that there are those who find this film boring, weird or allegedly inappropriately acted. As someone who worked closely with Japanese and traveled extensively in Japan, I hope to enlighten them on some aspects of Japanese culture through my anecdotes.
On a visit to the ancient city of Kyoto, my boss proudly announced that he was taking me to a "cha-no-yu," a tea ceremony. I wondered what the big deal was because at the time I would rather be attending a Chinese lauriat or even better, go to a karaoke bar in Tokyo's Ginza. Nevertheless, I was deeply moved by the ceremony. First, I was struck by the respect shown to me by the lady who performed the ceremony who practically kowtowed to me. Her actions in the preparation, serving and drinking of the tea reminded me of the mass, the transubstantiation of the wine into the blood of the Savior and communion.
In two dinner visits to the houses of a Japanese executive and of a newsman, I found their hospitality rather formal but very satisfying as well. In both visits a female sat beside me to serve me. In the first instance, she was the matron of the house. In the second, it was a daughter. They way they presented and served food was almost ritualistic. In both cases, the ladies peeled oranges for me and the delightful surprise was not the taste of the oranges but they way they peeled them so that the peelings when laid on the table looked like flowers.
One night in Kumamoto while I was sleeping, I was awakened by the lady of the house who told me that it was snowing and invited me to come out and watch with her. She led me to the living room where there was a large glass picture window. As we sat on our haunches on the floor and watched the snow cover the lawn and the trees, I realized that she considered that a treat and to me, it was.