Five years ago it started with a dowry, which was actually a bride price--which I refused to participate in. Selling your daughter for money like she is livestock is among the most despicable things I've ever encountered. You can tell me it is this or that or to prove love, blah blah blah, but if you come riding up on a pig and tell me it is a horse, I will still see a pig.
The latest episode is about a funeral. In my culture, a funeral is generally three days after death and the service takes about one hour. My in-laws are Hmong, and a relative has passed away about a month ago. His funeral is starting Friday--runs 24-hours per day and continues until the burial on Monday. To complicate it more, though the Hmong bring their children to everything, our baby son is not supposed to attend because of bad spirits, lack of facilities, over crowding, etc. I however, am supposed to be there and my parents services have been secured to watch our baby on the fourth day.
So I lay awake almost the entire night, wondering how to handle the situation. I feel I must put my son first. My wife has been a poor guide in my initiation into her culture but she is in disagreement with me about how best to handle the situation. I love her and my son, but I cannot agree with the entire situation and putting the dead before the living.
As in the case when I first attended all-day shaman events until the year that they occurred at a rate of three in about six weeks (and after suffering my second bout of food poisoning), I began removing myself from these events.
At this moment being sleep deprived and not knowing what course to take, I feel that I stand to "lose," whatever I decide. My Hmong family will never understand how these things affect me--and I love my wife and son and they are part of these traditions.
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