R.E
I remember one project given to me by my Religious Education teacher. We were in groups of three, and each group given the topic of a human rite of passage (birth, coming of age, marriage etc.) and asked to investigate how different faiths dealt with it.

Our group was given death, and were asked to produce enough material for an exhibition in the school foyer. I did alot of work on the written material, but got to do two bits of field work; visiting and interviewing an undertaker (utterly weird) and a visit to a crematorium (even weirder).

At the crematorium I was shown all the bits you don't normally get to see; the conveyor belt that rolls the coffin into the oven, the oven itself, the scraper thing that removes the ashes from the oven and so forth. All with a chap who seemed far too jolly to ever be working in a crematorium. For being a good little boy and feigning interest and attention for an hour, the chap gave me some parting gifts; a few issues of the crematoria trade magazine (yes, there is such a thing and yes, it's very weird) and an actual plastic urn. These are not the decorative ones that go on top of the mantelpiece, but simple brown plastic tubs with a screw-top lid that are used when ashes are buried, or where there's no family around to pay for anything more fancy.

This was great as an exhibition piece, but I figured it could be even more compelling. When I got home I took a few toilet rolls and some old newspaper into the back garden, set fire to the lot and some time later collected the ash into the pot.

The next day took it back into school and (with my somewhat black sense of humour) would reply to anyone who asked "what's that?" with "Grandma". A quick unscrew of the lid seemed to prove this for them (despite newspaper and toilet roll ash looking nothing like human ash). Some of the reactions were priceless and I let people dangle for some time before telling the truth.

This was all very funny until it transpired that one kid had indeed just lost his grandma and, of course, she was cremated. My flaunting granny's ashes around the place probably wasn't the most tactful thing to do, and I was politely asked to stop. Spoilsports.
(absurdistan, Fri 14 Aug 2009, 16:02, Reply)