Grenadian funeral

In my first week of work one the receptionists' mother (a Grenadian woman) suddenly died. We were asked to attend the funeral.  It was in the middle of the week in the mountains of Grenada at a tiny, sweltering church packed with locals all dressed up, sweaty and grieving.  It was an open casket service that included 4 hours of song, speeches and uncontrolled wailing.  We then had to join the three mile walking and wailing procession through winding hills to the gravesite where the family buried the body and sang more dirges. I stepped in poison ivy, and almost passed out due to heat, but the entire event was fascinating and incredibly moving.