I went back to visit my host family in Kanye a few weeks back. I had planned to go for my niece’s 13th birthday, but then I was sick. So my “mom” wanted me to go this particular weekend because there would be a wedding to attend. She was hosting the family of the groom, who were from a different village.
It felt like a true homecoming of sorts. My brother’s girlfriend and two young kids were there and back living at the house. They had moved out half way through my stay and I had missed them terribly. Those babies were what had helped keep me mentally balanced and healthy during PST. Looking back I realize that when I lost them, I started to lose it. One of my sisters was home to help with things, and my niece of course was happy to see me and VERY happy when I told her I had brought the second two Twilight movies for her to see. My brother made a brief appearance was well, between readying the beer for the wedding reception and who knows what else. I told him he had about 20 months to organize his wedding with his girlfriend so I could be here to attend. That got some laughs. But weddings are expensive here, as elsewhere, and while there is a hope and expectation that people get married, it is also acceptable that people don’t.
I also ran into the host sister of one of our volunteers who went home. I was able to reassure her that the volunteer was happy and okay and that her leaving had nothing whatsoever to do with her host family or the people of Botswana. Our host families took very seriously their role of “raising us” and introducing us to Botswana so feel responsible for our successes or failures. I assured this host sister that all was well and her family did a great job.
Most of the volunteers had probably already attended a wedding while we were in Kanye, but I hadn’t. In our training, we had already been told about how weddings and funerals went down here, so I knew what to expect. There are various aspects to weddings. One part is when members of the groom’s family go to speak to members of the bride’s family to negotiate the “bride price.” I am not sure how much negotiation really occurs, because each village or area has a fairly set bride price, but the negotiation is a cultural tradition that must be observed.
In Kanye, as in many other parts of the country, the bride price is 8 cows. Sometimes a goat or sheep is thrown in. There is a town somewhere up north where the price is 12 cows. They don’t want their women to go to just anyone. The cows are usually delivered to the customary wedding ceremony that occurs at the Kgotla in the woman’s village. We went to one of these ceremonies during training. Only married women are allowed into the Kgotla and have their heads covered and wear a blanket on their shoulders to indicate they are married. The men sit on one side of the Kgotla, the women on the other, and when they don’t have enough chairs the women sit on the cement floor.
The families are there and the bride and groom come before the Kgosi to answer a few questions to indicate they are taking this marriage seriously and are ready for it. At the one we witnessed, they said they met at “church” which got a few laughs. Also equally likely they met at a bar. These Kgotla weddings are on Thursdays and don’t have any particular celebration after them. Everyone, including the cows, leave, and then on Friday, they (minus the cows, I am pretty sure) usually go to get the civil paperwork. Saturday is when the church wedding, if there is one, takes place and then the actual “reception.”
These receptions are held both in the groom’s village and the bride’s village, usually one weekend after another. I was there for the party at the bride’s village. I asked what happens if they are both from the same village. Apparently they still have two receptions. The reception usually takes place in a rented tent set up as close as possible to the family home. The family does all the cooking for the event unless they are hugely wealthy, which I haven’t seen yet. And they don’t get RSVPs so they cook based on however they figure out how to estimate how many people will come. Generally, it is only the one side of the wedding at one time who attend the reception, except for the members of the wedding party and the family members representing the family, who go to both parties.
My mother, being part of the groom’s family, left the house around noon to attend to things. I hung out at the house with my sister, brother’s girlfriend, their two kids and my niece until about 3:30 before we headed to the reception. When we got there, most everyone was jammed in the tent, out of the sun, sitting and waiting to be fed. Someone found us a small wooden bench to share and we sat in the middle of the dead end road watching people come and go. When it was time to eat, mom came over and told us to bring the bench into the tent, where we tucked up just behind her at her table.
And they don’t skimp on the food. There are 2 to 3 kinds of meats, 4 or more of the traditional starches, and 3 to 4 different salads. Nobody eats this much food at a regular meal, or with this much variety, but at a wedding the plates are heaping full. My niece and I shared a plate of food, since she is a fairly light eater and I am not a happy person when I eat that much food at once.
I sat there for most of the time they were serving and distributing the food totally anxious about whether or not they would have enough. I needn’t have concerned myself. They fed 200+ heaping plates, no problem.
The bride had a beautiful long white dress, very much like you would see at home. The groom and all his men were dressed in smart grey suits with purple shirts and all the bridesmaids were dressed in purple dresses; all the same material but differently styled.
After the food was finished, and we ate the cake (I think, but I was so full I had a memory lapse here), the wedding party danced their way out of the tent, doing traditional dances to less than traditional music, and continued to dance for a while in front of the bride’s family home. At some point she slipped away to change into her travel outfit, and the groom left to go back to my mother’s house to change, while the group continued to dance what reminded me most of country line dances at home. When the bride was finally changed and the groom returned, each family gathered around their just married family member. The groom’s party stood down the road and the bride’s party in front of her home. Then, each party started singing a different song and danced their way towards the other. When they met, the bride’s contingent moved to join in with the groom’s side and they all danced their way back to the house, singing one song together, where the guests awaited them.
At this point, most of the older men had already moved to the male gathering area nearby and had assuredly already finished a good deal of the bojalwa ja Setswana – traditional beer – and were getting ready to party for some time. I would get to try some of it the next day. To me it tastes like really rank alcohol and the reddish brown dirt found everywhere, but maybe I need to give it a second chance.
But it was dark now, and we headed home. It was a rare treat for me to be out walking in the dark and being with my niece, brother’s girlfriend and one of my sisters, I was perfectly safe. We took turns carrying the two kids, Ally and Tao, who were totally exhausted by then. Apparently a lot of people passing us in the dark were surprised to see a white person, because my niece told me that I was getting a lot of attention. Of course I didn’t know this because I didn’t understand any of what was being said so I will assume they were all complimentary comments.
One of the groom’s family members had told my sister to go home and cook the meat that was filling the refrigerator. I asked my sis what it was and she said “tripe.” Apparently when you kill one or two of those cows to feed everyone, you end up with a lot of tripe. Ugh. But before we could get to that, she had to walk one of the wedding guests “half way” home to her house, and it was pitch dark. She told me go to with so SHE wouldn’t be walking back alone. Lucky for all of us, I had my Petzl headlamp with me. I honestly have no idea how they would have, could have and DO walk in pitch black darkness without a good headlamp. It was quite popular.
Mom was very tired after all this, and was left with sore feet and a hoarse voice from all her singing and dancing. She and uncle (her deceased husband’s brother) sat outside by the fire drinking the beer. I sat with them awhile but realized that I would only understand them better if I got drunk, not if they got drunk, and I didn’t feel like drinking any more homebrew tonight.
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