The Toraja Funeral Festival in Indonesia

Toraja's grand funeral is called "Rambu Solo'," concentrated in the dry season, July–August — this is when family working away from home return and guests can more easily make arrangements. But it has no fixed date: each one depends on when a given family is ready (in means and in manpower), sometimes after a wait of several years. So "wanting to see one" can't be checked on a calendar; you have to ask through a local guide or your lodging which ones are happening in the period and whether you can attend. The location is Tana Toraja in South Sulawesi.

First fly to Makassar (UPG), then take the mountain road about 8 hours up to Toraja (there is also the option of a small plane to Toraja airport). Because the journey is far, it's best to allow 3–4 days rather than going there and back in one day. The mountain road has many curves, so anyone prone to carsickness should bring medicine beforehand.

Before the funeral is formally held, the deceased is not reckoned to have "left" but is treated as "a sick person" — the room is kept as it was, and the family brings food in every day, tending to them as usual. This waiting can last years, until the whole family is ready, before the grand farewell is held. That is not avoidance but a reluctance to let go, a love. Only once you understand this can you see why this funeral can be so long and so grand.

Two rows of bamboo stands are set up in the courtyard, with the coffin wrapped in red and gold cloth in the middle; the host family's elders sit at the front, mourners come in batch by batch, and coffee and cakes are passed round in rounds. No one weeps in a hushed voice; the whole occasion is more like a vast and solemn family gathering — liveliness is their way of sending someone off.

The funeral offers water buffalo — in Toraja belief, the water buffalo is the medium that carries the departed soul to the "land of souls" (Puya); and the number of buffalo offered also displays a clan's rank and honor. The scene is grand, the whole village setting down its work to send the deceased off together over several days. A reminder: the sacrifice scene is quite graphic and may be unsuitable for some travelers, so be mentally prepared; it is not suitable for young children.

If you fly this far, don't just watch one funeral. Toraja's valleys have layer upon layer of rice terraces, traditional boat-roofed houses called "tongkonan," and cliff-tomb villages scattered across the rock faces (like Lemo and Londa). I would set aside a whole day and have a guide take me through a few villages — watching the same place build both its "houses" and its "tombs" with such care, you'll truly understand why the Toraja people can prepare for a single farewell over several years.

After the funeral, the deceased is not buried in the earth but placed in tombs hewn high into the cliff face. Along the cliff edge stand carved wooden figures called "tau-tau," made in the likeness of the dead, facing the village, as if to keep watching the days below for them. Standing beneath the cliff and looking up, you'll feel a strange reassurance: here, those who have left have not truly gone far, only moved to a higher, quieter place.

Before going to Toraja, there are two things to think through clearly. First, this is a real death ritual, not a tourist performance — the sacrifice of water buffalo and pigs is quite graphic and may involve blood, so those with sensitive stomachs or minds, as well as young children, should assess this beforehand; you can politely step away from the parts you don't want to see. Second, it has no timetable: which one you get to see and how large it is depends entirely on which family happens to be holding one in the period, requiring a local guide to arrange on the spot, so keep your itinerary flexible. Think these two points through and you'll walk into that courtyard in the right frame of mind, rather than with the eyes of someone hunting for a spectacle.

Travelers are often welcomed to attend, but please remember: this is a real funeral, not a performance. Go with your guide, bring a gift (cigarettes, sugar, etc., according to local custom), wear dark, plain clothing, ask before taking photos, and stay quiet and respectful throughout. You are a guest who has been "invited in," not a spectator there to gawk.

When I left, the voices of the courtyard still followed behind me. That stranger's farewell, that way of seeing death as "a slow setting-out" — after I returned, it made the way I see parting a little bit different. If you too had sat through that, you'd probably understand.