This was a weekend I’ll never forget! I knew things were going to be good when Mama proudly proclaimed, “We’re going to make you look like a Nigerian!”…
The preparations started Friday after work when a woman came over to paint me and Mama with traditional henna wedding tattoos (Don’t worry Mom, they’ll wash off in a few weeks!). It was a labor intensive process—it took 2 hours to paint my hands and legs and then Mama and I camped out in front of the fan for another 2 hours while they dried. The woman who was painting us was so excited to see her artwork pop against my light skin and took copious amounts of cell phone pictures. I was the epitome of Swahili hotness once it was done; everyone who saw me in town commented on how “smart” I looked.
Saturday morning the family headed off to my Mama’s home village about an hour away so we could help prepare for her cousin’s wedding. Weddings here are weekend-long celebrations, with family and friends arriving a day in advance to help prepare food and begin the celebration. Everyone was so friendly, but almost no one spoke any English—I got a lot of mileage out of nodding and smiling, remembering how my mom used to tell stories of how her deaf students would do the same in large group situations where no one spoke sign language. I was so happy Sulie and I had bonded so well last week because he clung to me and gave me an air of legitimacy—it looked much better than if he had still shrieked in terror at my sight! Late afternoon, Mama proclaimed that it was time to make me look like a Nigerian, and we were off for clothing change #1. She dressed me in a louder outfit, complete with headwrap, and we were ready to start preparing for the evening’s festivities. We had dinner and hung out until about 10, when a traditional Swahili band came to start the Taarub dancing. Women were still sewing outfits by candlelight past midnight, many rounds of chai were passed around to help keep everyone awake, and the music built as the night went on. I went to bed ‘early’ around 2am, but the celebrating continued for at least a couple more hours! Hundreds of people were there—for such a remote village this wedding sure drew a croud.
The next morning, anticipation was in the air. Mama dressed me up again and I got to watch her kill and prepare a chicken… I’ll just say I’m glad we don’t eat much meat in Msambweni and leave it at that. After more cooking and visiting Mama changed me into my 3rd outfit and everyone started to get ready for the ceremony. We sat under shade trees, men on one side and women on the other. There was lots of talk in Swahili, and then the groom and his procession entered the bride’s house for the actual ceremony. Mama let me sneak in with her for a peak, and I saw the bride and groom pouring water and doing reciting what I think were their vows. She was lovely in green (white dresses aren’t a traditional thing here… unfortunately neither is wedding cake). After more proceedings the bride and groom left on piki piki (motorbike) and everyone started to head home to recover from the weekend’s festivities.
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