Original subtitles

All around the world, we perform rituals.

From familiar customs...

..to extreme initiations.

Rituals help us mark the most important moments in our lives.

They teach us how to love.

How to let go.

And how to find where we belong.

Let's light this city!

In this episode, we'll explore the extraordinary ceremonies

that surround birth...

..death...

..and marriage.

In the Amazon, a family performs sacred rituals

to protect its newborn child.

In China, teenagers wear their hair of their dead ancestors

to find true love.

And in Indonesia, families perform incredible death rituals.

In the circle of life,

rituals help us understand the human experience.

And these are some of the most extraordinary.

BABY CRIES

No matter who you are, or where you live,

there are two events in life that we all experience:

Birth...

..and death.

Across the globe, funerals are the most widespread of all our rituals.

Bringing us together to mourn our loved ones.

In Indonesia, the Torajan people put on the most elaborate funerals

on Earth...

..to guarantee the dead a place in the afterlife.

Agostina is cooking dinner for her husband, Tadem.

After 50 years of marriage, she knows exactly what he likes to eat.

MUSIC PLAYS

CHILDREN LAUGH

Tadem died 18 months ago, aged 75.

Twice a day, his family bring him meals,

tending to him as though he's still alive.

CHILDREN CHAT IN THEIR LANGUAGE

His body has been preserved with formalin,

so he can stay at home surrounded by his relatives.

Tadem's son, Pak Pillay, is responsible for the funeral,

to be held over an entire week.

For Torajans, if you are important in life,

you must maintain your status among the dead.

Tadem was a government official, so while his body has lain at home,

Pak Pillay has raised £170,000 for a funeral worthy of his father.

THEY CHANT

Tonight is the start of the funeral rituals.

First, Tadem's body must leave the family home.

This, Torajans believe, is the moment of death.

So, it's now that Agostina can begin to grieve for her husband.

MOURNERS CRY

Over the next five days,

the community gathers to perform rituals to carry Tadem's soul

into the afterlife.

Torajans say their ancestors arrived by boat,

so their spirits must leave the same way,

as symbolised by the curved shape of their roofs.

Tadem's coffin is placed in his very own Ship of the Dead.

Thousands have come from surrounding villages to pay their respects

to Tadem.

Pak Pillay has laid on the most prestigious form

of Torajan entertainment, buffalo fights.

With guests placing bets on which animal will win.

THEY CHEER

Buffalo are highly prized here, both in life...

..and in death.

They play a vital role in the funeral rituals.

The sacrifice of ten buffalo is believed to ensure

the release of Tadem's soul from this world.

And the precious meat will feed the thousands of guests.

It's the final day of the funeral.

Tadem will be placed in a chamber of the family tomb.

The mourners shake the coffin to free his soul

from its last earthly ties.

THEY CHANT

In the circle of life, birth is a time for joy.

Blessings and christenings mark the arrival of our children,

and prepare them for life's journey.

As parents, we have many ways of protecting our young children.

In Japan, they say a baby's cry scares away demons.

Nakizumo is a 400-year-old ritual in which professional wrestlers compete

to make babies cry.

THEY SHOUT

BABIES CRY

Parents hand over their infants in the popular belief

that crying babies grow fast.

But the start of life can be dangerous.

In Brazil, the Kayapo people rely on ancient rituals to keep

their babies safe in the first crucial days of infancy.

19-year-old Irene is in labour with her first baby,

supported by her mother and aunties.

The family believe their ancestors are trying to steal the baby back

to the land of the dead.

For them, birth is a battle, a tug of love.

Irene has already been in labour for 15 hours.

SHE GASPS

In the days following the birth,

the family believes the spirits are still a danger.

Until 20 years ago, the Kayapo had no access to modern medicine.

Many babies died in infancy.

To protect the new baby boy, the family performs a series of rituals.

First, Granny bathes him with medicinal plants

to protect his skin.

His ears are pierced to open his senses to the world.

BABY CRIES

The final layer of protection comes from the dye of a Jenipapo fruit.

Irene and her mother paint his face as an expression of love,

and to keep his soul inside his body.

THEY LAUGH

The birth of her first child means Irene

must undergo rituals of her own.

Her body is painted red to celebrate her rite of passage into adulthood.

All Kayapo girls have their heads shaved

to show their connection to the universe.

They escort Irene into the river.

Where she swims with them for the last time as a girl.

When she emerges, Irene will be recognised as a woman.

The birth of her baby is a coming-of-age,

giving her a new status in the village.

As we grow older, rituals help us mark the transition

from child to adult.

But sometimes a rite of passage involves huge risks.

In the suburbs of Johannesburg, South Africa,

boys gamble with their lives by train surfing.

Despite frequent deaths, gangs compete

to pull off the most dangerous moves.

And in Papa New Guinea,

boys of the Kaningara take part in an exceptionally painful ritual

to prove they are ready to become men.

This ancient initiation is inspired by legend.

A villager called Marsivo gained the power

of a crocodile's spirit by scarring his skin with its scales.

Today, the Kaningara still use this skin-cutting ritual to mark

the transition to manhood on their body for life.

It's January. Six initiates are hidden away in the spirit house,

the most sacred place in the village.

HE SHOUTS IN HIS OWN LANGUAGE

In two days, they'll undergo the skin-cutting ceremony.

Among them is John.

John and the other initiates have been in total seclusion

in the spirit house for six months.

The mud on their faces signifies their state of limbo

between two worlds, of boy and man.

Every day, the elders instruct their captive audience.

To help him bear the pain of the incisions,

John has been building up fat.

Each day, large meals are sent to the spirit house

by his mother, Matilda, who is banned from entering.

Today is the first day of John's rite of passage.

The boys leave the spirit house in the shape of a crocodile,

with guardians sheltering them from their mothers.

The Kaningara said that women give birth to boys,

but only men can turn them into adults.

This is the first test.

John mustn't respond to Matilda,

to prove that all maternal ties between them have been cut.

The initiates are then led back into the spirit house to prepare for

the extreme ritual to come.

As night falls, the elders summon up the crocodile spirit, Nashut.

So the boys can take on his courage and strength

to endure the pain of the cutting ceremony.

At dawn, the ritual begins.

Hundreds of small cuts are made on John's torso.

Each one is seen as a bite from the crocodile spirit.

THEY APPLAUD

With the crocodile's head carved into his front,

its tail is now cut into his back.

HE SHOUTS

Once we reach adulthood, many of us look for a partner,

that perfect someone to share our lives with.

In the mountains of south-west China,

teenagers can take part in a series of matchmaking rituals

dating back to the seventh century.

THEY CHEER

16-year-old Xing Mae is hoping to find a boyfriend

during the matchmaking ceremonies.

Xing Mae is from the Long Horn Miao,

named after the wooden horns used to tie up their hair.

For centuries, Miao women have created elaborate headdresses

that include the hair of their dead female ancestors.

In the past, girls wore the hair while working in the fields

to scare off wild animals.

Today, it's only brought out for special occasions.

Across the valley, boys are also getting ready for the first day

of matchmaking.

19-year-old Shendong is back from college,

home for just ten days to find a girlfriend.

Shendong has already set his heart on a girl, a friend of Xing Mae's.

Like most girls here,

Xing Mae is already engaged to marry a man chosen by her family.

If Xing Mae finds a new boyfriend during the ceremonies,

she can call off her engagement.

It's time for the matchmaking to begin.

The boys are encouraged to marry within the Miao people,

and will visit girls in all 12 villages of the region.

Tonight, they're on their way to Xing Mae's house.

As night falls, Xing Mae and her friends wait inside.

When the boys arrive, they're locked out,

and must wait for the girls to begin an ancient singing ritual.

THEY SING

Today's teenagers are singing love songs from the seventh century,

when owning a pipe was a symbol of wealth.

THEY LAUGH

Shendong makes a beeline for the girl he's set his hopes on.

Her name is Guiying.

THEY LAUGH

The boy that Xing Mae likes is also here.

He's called Yangdong.

If Xing Mae can't pluck up the courage to speak to Yangdong,

she might have to marry the man chosen by her family.

Xing Mae's mother and grandma are making traditional costumes

for the final ceremony.

It's the last day of the matchmaking.

MUSIC PLAYS

People from all 12 Longhorn Miao villages are gathered for

the Flower Dance Festival.

For Xing Mae and Shengdong,

it's their last chance to find love before the end of the holidays.

And Shengdong's singing seems to have impressed Guiying.

Celebrated the world over, weddings are a key ritual

in many of our lives.

They often bring our families together.

THEY SHOUT

And sometimes they connect us directly to our ancestors.

At a Maori wedding in New Zealand, the family perform the Haka.

The Haka was once a war dance,

but here it's a display of respect to the bride and groom.

Rituals remind us of where we come from.

And marriage rights can bring us back to our roots.

The Sahara, in Niger.

Two Tuareg families and their wedding guests

are heading deep into the desert,

where their ancestors have performed their most traditional

rituals for generations.

The groom, Abdullah, lives and works in Paris.

THEY SHOUT

Abdullah's bride, Azahra, is an accountant.

She lives in Niger's capital, but is also returning to her roots.

The nomadic Tuareg traded right across the Sahara

for thousands of years.

But this ancient way of life has changed,

as an increasing number of people switch to an urban lifestyle.

So weddings are an important occasion for clans to come together.

Today, two of the most noble families will be joined in marriage.

The ceremony might be ancient, but it's a modern union founded on love.

According to tradition,

the bride and groom must be kept apart for the wedding day.

The Tuareg here have a culture that includes considerable independence

for women.

Azahra's feet and hands are cleansed with henna.

Throughout the celebrations, she is confined to her family tent.

At dusk, it's the job of women who were traditionally servants

to build a special tent.

A sacred space for Tuareg women,

and the centrepiece of the wedding ritual.

Finally, at the climax of the celebrations,

Azahra is led to the marriage tent,

covered until the very last minute, where Abdullah is waiting for her.

After their most traditional of weddings,

Abdullah and Azahra head out of the desert

to start a new life together in France.

SHE LAUGHS

As we grow older, our loved ones begin to die.

In every part of the world, we honour our dead.

For many of us, funeral rituals help us say goodbye.

But in some cultures,

death is seen as just one of many stages.

In Mexico, at an ancient Aztec festival,

families bring food and flowers to the graves of their relatives,

to nourish their spirits as they return to Earth

on the Day of the Dead.

In many death rituals, the journey of the soul relies on the living.

In Japan, rituals must be performed on behalf of the dead for 33 years.

Daily prayers, which will release them into the afterlife.

But what if you die and have no-one to pray for you?

Within the next 20 years,

it's predicted half the population of Tokyo will live by themselves.

In Japan's vast, overcrowded cities,

more and more people are dying alone.

Shinji Ohashi is 62 years old and lives alone

with no partner or children.

When he dies, Shinji will need someone to pray for him.

He's found the perfect answer.

Engulfed by a shopping mall,

Bansho-ji is the site of a 500-year-old Buddhist shrine...

..with a very modern solution for those who die alone.

Shinji's ashes will occupy a compartment

in this new, hi-tech cemetery.

HE CHANTS

Twice a day, the temple's chief priest, Daito Genyu,

leads the prayers for the 3,000 souls in his care.

The most desirable compartments cost up to £20,000.

But Shinji has gone for the budget option.

These quiet, hi-tech rituals couldn't be further removed from

the vibrant funerals in Indonesia.

THEY SHOUT AND SING

For the Torajans, the circle of life does not end here.

A physical connection with the dead ensures their journey continues

far beyond the grave.

It's August.

A Torajan family is visiting the tomb of their ancestors

to perform the most extraordinary death ritual of all.

Aris Butuh has come to see his father, Yulius,

for the annual ceremony called Ma'nene.

The family removes Yulius from his coffin

and changes his wrappings to show their continued love for him,

15 years after his death.

SHE WAILS

For Aris and his family, looking after Yulius in death

will reward them with good fortune in life.

The Ma'nene ritual is gaining in popularity,

as far-flung family members can now see their dead relatives

via social media.

The family will come back to visit Yulius next year.

For them, dying is not the end of life's rich journey.

In the circle of life,

our rituals give us meaning.

They give us hope.

And joy.

And they bring us together

at the most important moments in our lives.

Next time, we explore the largest ritual gatherings on the planet.

Where some go to extreme lengths to honour their gods.

Others create a city in the desert.

And some cross mountains for the highest mass ritual on Earth.

Are rituals integral to being human?

What's gained through rituals, or lost by neglecting them?

The conversation continues with the Open University.

Go to the address below and follow the links to the Open University.