There is possibly nothing more alive than a village wedding! The colors, the food, the singing, the dancing, the laughing, the whooping… I had the fabulous last minute opportunity to go to the wedding of Hindu’s sister, Amina. On what I thought was my last trip to the village to see the kids, Hindu handed me a sweetly constructed letter inviting me to her sister’s wedding that Sunday. Knowing that I had resigned to staying in Kigoma town on Sunday to relax and pack and take in the last few moments in town before flying to Dar the next day – you’d think I would have hesitated before answering, but I found a big ‘yes’ flying out of my smile before I could even catch myself…
So, I would be trekking into the village on foot one more time in a couple of days. Hindu couldn’t believe that I said yes and made sure about five times, after each confirmation putting her head in her hand, then laughing and throwing her hand into mine to snap thumbs, as they do with their ‘high fives’. She was so happy and therefore, so was I!
That Sunday, Lucas and I made our way into the village. We were so lucky! For the first time in my trip, there were clouds and a breeze to shield us from the abuse of mama sun. It made our fast paced march into Kiganza, to make the 11am wedding start time, much more pleasant. Lucas was happy to accompany me back to the village and go to the wedding, although we wouldn’t really get to hang out much at the acutal ceremony… men and women don’t sit together.
When we reached Kiganza, I went straight to Hindu’s house… well, her “house”. She lives in one of the houses on the main road that was slated for destruction by the Chinese road crew who are building the new highway to Burundi. After I left last year, the main house was destroyed, leaving the family only a smaller part of the house and the animals’ quarters to sleep and cook in. Families were compensated, but it wasn’t really enough for Hindu’s family and they remain in the shambles that was once a home…
Anyway – sitting in the main outdoor area within the surrounding small parts of her house were about 30 women, all dressed in colorful kangas and kitenges. This was a muslim wedding, so they were all wearing a kanga on their heads as well. They were very happy to see me. Hindu came running. She wasn’t convinced I would actually make it until I arrived. After greeting everyone and changing into my own skirt and a dry (sweat-free) shirt in Hindu’s sleeping area, I went across the street to meet another group of women who were preparing the food.
The food was stored in big basins and wrapped in colorful kangas for the transport 15minutes down the road – walking – to another house where the ceremony would take place. Everyone walked together. Lucas walked with the goat, who had an onion and a tomato slung around its neck. (Of course, I made sure I wouldn’t have to witness any slaughter and Lucas assured me it was just a gift to the groom’s family, for slaughter later – phew!) A few men pushed bicycles with crates of soda – Coca Cola and Fanta orange (they love this stuff!). The women carried the food on their heads and together, we all began our trek.
The road was typically dusty and the Tanzanian men working on the road project drove at insane speeds given the fact that they were passing 100 people dressed in their best kangas with food on their heads. With each passing truck, the whole wedding parade turned away from the road, covered their faces with their kangas or hands and then turned back to walk as if this was ok … I get so angry every time because the dust induced health problems in this village must be sky rocketing and it could be greatly reduced if drivers would just slow down!
When we reached the other house, we paused for the whole parade to come together… the women that is. The men proceeded to the wedding house and sat under the dried palm leaf roof that would shelter the guests from the sun. The women waited until they were all together. At the other end, the women of the groom’s family gathered and waited for the arriving group to be assembled. At this point, the bride’s family (who I was with) waited for the groom’s family to welcome them. When the time was right, the women of the groom’s family started singing a Karibu song (Welcome) and the bride’s family would respond with their song response – Asante (Thank you) … Then, the two groups of women came together, singing and dancing until they were all mixed in one big circle with women alternating in and out of the center… the bride and the mother of both bride and groom were in the center at all times. Sisters and other friends and relatives moved in and out, stomping, whooping, singing, throwing their arms up, hugging the bride, laughing, sweating, stirring up the dust…
When they finished this dance greeting in the street, they danced their way over to the ceremony house – carrying the bride who wore a big head-dress made from a Kanga that matched her dress. She looked so much like Hindu, in the face. She was so happy, as were her sisters and mother. When they reached the house, a handful of the women continued to dance around the house and then went into the house and danced up a dust storm indoors with the bride, singing and laughing – while the rest of us sat on dried leaves under the palm leaf roof. After about 20 minutes of this, the bride came out and sat for a while among us. Women continued to take turns dancing in front of the group with whistles – whistling and whistling and stomping and singing and dancing. The women with whom I was seated were singing back to a lead singer, who elicited their responses through singing … Hollah back, girls!
After about an hour, Hindu invited me to go to her other sister’s house down the road. She grabbed Lucas from the men’s side of the ceremony and off we went (picture: Hindu walking). The party continued without us. At Shakira’s house, we ate rice, beans and fish and just chilled a bit – decompressed from the party madness!
At this point, it was getting late and Lucas and I had to make our way back to Kigoma. After eating, we passed back through the ceremony, which was winding down now. I went in and said goodbye to the family, hugged and kissed Hindu’s sweet mom and sister and then we walked. Even Hindu left the party. She escorted Lucas and I for about 30 minutes, back toward her house and beyond. She said she wanted to walk with me as far as she could because she knew she wouldn’t see me again for a long time. When she finally decided to turn back, I gave her a good ole American bear hug, lifting her off her feet. Next year, dada mdogo (little sister)…