Tradition is something that, on the outside, might look like it's beginning to go extinct, but deep down in the villages, there are still hundreds and thousands of people who still do things the old way.
Sadly, I'm not very accustomed to many of these traditions because I grew up far away from them and rarely visited the village, so there was little to no chance for me to properly learn anything. To be honest, I don't think I missed anything, but inasmuch as we grew far away from things like that, we still understood how powerful these customs and traditions are.
We understand that there are certain things that should be done in certain ways, and due to how seriously a lot of people down at the village take these things, I try to minimize or not participate in them at all in order to avoid making a grave mistake that might require me to walk naked round the village (this is me exaggerating, of course) or whatever.
This was why, during the planning of my mom's burial, I was more than happy when my dad had instructed my siblings and me not to say anything to anyone, even if we were asked any questions. I was excited about that instruction because not only did I not know the tradition, we were traveling to a completely different state and village.
When we got there, I and my eldest brother had gotten a seat at the back. We were trying to keep a very low profile, but then the proceedings started, and while they were doing their usual arguments, one of the elders of the other village insisted that I and my brother address them.
Luckily for me, I wasn't the eldest, so I kept my mouth shut and just looked into space, while my eldest brother stood there, contemplating if he should follow my dad's instructions and disobey the elders or vice versa. It was almost a case of the devil and the deep blue sea.
Luckily for him, just as he was about to speak up, someone had interrupted him. The elder we had come with had immediately interrupted, telling the other elders that there was no need for all that, and they eventually allowed us back to our seats. Trust me when I say that I felt relieved because I knew that I was going to be the next to speak if they had allowed my brother to carry on.
That was the closest I got to addressing real traditional men, and I hope it doesn't happen anytime soon again, or at least, if it must, I should be prepared for it.