It's 7pm on the second day of "viewing". The family got here at nine and hasn't left yet. Luckily I got here about 8:15, as it took the whole 45 minutes to throw out garbage, vacuum, clean up the chapel, sweep the front, pick up cigarette butts (yuck), and restock the bathrooms (bigger yuck, no one told me i'm the bathroom girl too).
The Buddist Monks came this morning and they just got here again. They wear orange robes, just like on Anger Management. Again, I wish I knew Viatnamese, so I could understand what is being said. Chanting through out the day. Long sermons, well I don't know that they're sermons, but it seems that way. People milling in the lobby and in front of the home, out there they smoke. And smoke. And smoke. Incense, cigarettes, and death. What a smelling sensatition. Of interest, earlier, was a power play over the death certificate by the sister (who paid for the whole thing) and the older brother (who thought he should automatically get one of the copies she paid for). Guess sibling rivalries transcend culture.
I'm amazed at the outpouring of love from the Vietnamese community. I can't even count the number of flower sprays without being totally obvious. they are across the front of the chapel and side by side all the way down both outside aisles. It'll take several vans to get them to the gravesite.