On Sunday I was collected by one of the drivers at 6.45 am. The thought doesn’t seem to occur here that
blasting the car horn repeatedly at that time on a Sunday morning might be seen
as a little unsociable – sorry compound buds, hope you got back to sleep
ok!
At the office, I climbed on the Ministry bus with the other guests –
almost all women, and only two or three I recognised. All I’d been told before we left was to dress
up and bring money in small denomination notes!
Blantyre is a good four hours away and the journey
dragged. Everyone was chatting away in
Chitewan and hardly anyone spoke to me!
There was a quick halfway stop where I bought a fruit juice and almost
everyone else bought either the beef liver which sat in a pot on the shop
counter, or meat from the grill outside – I’ve no idea what it was, but it
didn’t look like chicken! Then of course,
there were the mice kebabs from the roadside vendors. Someone actually asked the driver to stop to
buy some. About five mice skewered, as
they are, fur and all, and grilled. I’d
heard a lot about these, but hadn’t seen them up to that point. Delicious!
Eventually we arrived at Joseph’s (the future groom)
parents’ house. Then the signing started
on the bus and Patricia took me in hand.
As we got out of the bus, two guys with drums appeared from nowhere,
women took whistles from their handbags and the whole party sang as they danced
up the drive, me included. Somewhere in the middle of all this was
Joseph! Lots of women in aprons danced down from the house to meet us as we slowly processed up the drive.
Once in the house (quite big I think by Malawian standards)
there were huge pots of food everywhere.
There must have been 50 people for lunch and apparently this one just
one of a series of lunches typically given by the groom’s parents leading up to the
engagement ceremony itself. It appears
weddings are now more westernised, but the Malawian tradition of engagement
remains strong. We were told to line up,
there was a sink in the corner of the dining room and each person washed her
hands before taking a plate. For me, it
was a serious carb overload – rice, potato salad, bread, beans and coleslaw –
I declined the beef or chicken stews! Oh
and a choice of Fanta, sprite or coke to drink – fizzy drinks here are
everywhere too – much more common to see than water. I learned that Joseph’s dad is a Pastor and
the women in aprons, people from the church.
We all ate without actually meeting any of the family – as
far as I could see the meal was put on for us and the family and helpers ate
elsewhere. No-one introduced themselves or came to chat. Immediately after eating most
of those who’d arrived with me disappeared to get changed, put on make-up , …
Then it was back on the bus for round two.
This time, it was awash with bright colours, red lipstick and extremely
high heels. And they sang all the way –
not that I understood any of it, but it was certainly lively! Even the blokes at the front of the bus
(alongside the spare tyres and the huge jerry cans of fuel for the return
journey) sang along.
The actual ceremony takes place at the future bride’s
parents’ house. When we arrived there
were probably about 50 people sitting on chairs in the yard outside the house,
full Malawian dress including headdress everywhere, kids dressed up to the
nines, but also people in jeans and trainers (and jackets). Yet more dancing and singing marked our
arrival, until we were guided into our seats.
Patricia insisted I sat right at the front with her. I have never felt so white!!! My dancing, not
understanding a word, my dress, my skin, everything!!!!
In brief, it goes like this – there is a master of
ceremonies, a ‘head of protocol’, some cashiers, some extra assistants and a
DJ. The MC calls for specific groups of
people (the bride’s friends, the church, the bride’s family, the groom’s
workmates, etc, etc) and then says ‘Mr DJ please’ (yep one of the rare bits in
English) and as the music starts the group concerned get up, dance around a
large flat basket and throw cash (hence the small denomination notes) into the
basket. This goes on a while, collecting
more and more cash which is collected by the assistants and counted by the
cashiers while the head of protocol organises who does what and the MC
basically shouts at everyone!
Later there are baskets of food donated to the bride and
groom (symbolic of providing for one another), in this instance brought in by
very cute dancing kids, but then they are immediately taken from the future
bride and groom again to be auctioned off for more money. There’s a kind of ceremonial area where the
groom and his best man sit at some point, and eventually are joined by the
bridesmaid and bride to be. The whole
thing went on about 3 hours and much cash was thrown about during the whole
thing.
The actual ceremonial bit involves an uncle from each side
being called to the front and (after paying up of course. One asks the other what he is doing there,
the other replies he is searching for someone he has heard will be there, then
there’s all sorts of shenanigans about no strangers here, then going to look
for a stranger in the area, the prospective groom being brought in (dancing
again), what do you want here?, I've seen a girl I’d like to marry,…, no you must be
mistaken, there are no eligible women here, … lots of women come in dancing, including four hidden under
chitenjes, the first one unmasked is an old woman, great hilarity, then the future groom eventually finds
his future bride …..
In between all this and the money throwing, there are lots
of welcome thanks from both sets of parents.
Not a drink was served and it was all over before darkness fell.
It was fascinating to watch and my boss Patricia was a delight
translating what was going on. It was a
real experience and one I doubt I will ever see again. I was tucked up fast asleep by 8pm, somehow
didn’t feel the need for dinner!
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