Second FUNeral

So a few weeks ago there was a funeral in my town. Maybe, thats not quite correct: the funeral was in my house for someone who died about a month prior. Being at the epicenter of the funeral action was an event in itself, especially being the white person in town. So let's begin the recap!
Friday: The body arrived at about 6:30 via ambulance to the town from the morgue. The ambulance stops on the outside of town, to 'ask permission' from the chief to enter the town with a dead person. Also, a large number of people (150?) escorted the remains to our house amidst much (select three of the following) singing/dancing/rejoicing/mourning. Then, the dress the body for viewing. Viewing in America? In the casket. Viewing in Ghana? Well, in order for the person to look as lifelike as possible they put on what appears to be a wedding dress (all white and very large) and sit the person up in a chair like they are still alive!! I wonder how one applies to be a dressing consultant for dead people: is it an inherited profession? The experience of seeing someone upright, clothed, not in a casket, but still very, very dead was like finding out people in Ghana, eating with no utensils, wash their hands with soap and water AFTER they eat – it doesn't make sense to me and in both instances is fairly disturbing. There were viewings from different families coming to pay their respects, but the most interesting part was the aftermath of what I'll call 'Deceased Dressing'.
Tradition here dictates that the body arrives on Friday and buried Saturday, so from when the body arrives in evening until the next morning, they have 'wakening', which is essentially an all-night party of music, food and dancing to keep the corpse company until it is buried... analogous to a going away party, just for a dead person. The music they play is LOUD; I'm talking KISS-concert wattage with a DJ blaring gospel music for 12 hours – in my courtyard. I tried to sleep for a bit from 12 until 6, but in every dream I dreamt I was in either at a bar, or like Inception there was background music warning my dreaming consciousness that I was about to wake up due to ear-drum damage.
Hmm, I won't be able to post all of this in a single day, so to conclude, at dawn on Saturday the party is over. At sunrise everyone left at the party goes and parades around the town with music. In my dream, I dreamt that every living person disappeared and, once again like Inception, I was stuck in a place like limbo where I was the only living person in my dream; I felt very alone so I woke up.
Continuation will occur next week: Same Ghana time, Same Ghana Channel.
You may have noticed me always talking about music. Present everyday (especially Sundays), music may occur from a soccer match, singing at school assembly, church, funerals, weddings, and when the boys from the schools play football (soccer) the girls then proceed to run around the field singing and clapping tunes from church.
Some of my colleagues want me to teach them how to talk like an American, so I've started to use larger words (draconian, ginormous), slang "What's up?" (A common misperception here is the response to "Whats up" is "Cool" – I dont know why either), and interjections of various expletives into my Ghanaian speaking style. Funnily enough, little kids as small as 5 know "sheet", but my students haven't figured out any other bad words through age 18.
Final Notes:
I read "Stiff: The life of human Cadavers" about the same time as my funeral. Great book.
About 60 students from my school were caned (google if unfamiliar) for attending wakening.
Punishments given out by me are now to carry water ¼ mile to my house, on a bucket on their head.
Two other teachers and I ate an entire box of Oreos in one night.
Book Count Since September 15th – 53 books completed. Next up: Animal Farm, 1984, Sphere.