The last few times I’ve gone to Goa, I’ve conducted a few oral history interviews with my parents and anyone else who will sit still long enough to answer my questions.
This time, in talking to my dad, I found out that my grandfather was hired as a grave digger in 1918/19. He was probably around 16/17 at that time, and my dad remembers stories about how they would have a funeral procession (Goa is very catholic) to bury someone who had died, come back to the village church and find another body ready for burial.
I’m glad H5N1 was not as brutal in its virulence.
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