Weddings and Funerals

You can tell a lot about a culture by attending weddings and funerals. The other day I got the pleasure of going to a wedding. It was a rather extravagant wedding, with large, loud, bright decorations (what some of us might call tacky), lots of dancing and singing, and a large spread of food and drinks.

It began with us going to the groom’s house, which so happened to be at the hospital (he is a nurse at the near-by hospital). There was lot of music and dancing, running around the caravan of cars singing about how the groom was, “A hero! A big man!” Then everyone began insulting the best man, telling him he wasn’t singing loud enough and his songs weren’t good enough. He responded by taking out a vial of perfume and throwing it on the people. (This was obviously some kind of tradition).

After starting an hour late, we went in to greet the groom and congratulate him on his marriage. However, we did not know that we were walking into a photo shoot. They asked us to turn just right, shake his hand, while facing the camera with a big smile. (Much like you would do when receiving your diploma and posing for the camera). After each one took pictures with the groom, his assistant would come and dab the groom’s nose with a handkerchief to make sure there was no sweat on him for the next photo.

Then, we joined the caravan of decorated cars to head over to the bride’s father’s house. There we would witness the discussing and signing of the marriage agreement. In this culture you ask the father’s permission for his daughter the day of the wedding. In fact, right in the middle of the ceremony. After all the guests arrive at the father’s house, an elder reads the written contract between the bride and groom out loud. The father then critiques the contract, demanding any changes he deems necessary before agreeing to give his daughter in marriage. The crowd agrees with the father, and the contract is modified. After it is to the father’s satisfaction, the bride and groom exchange rings, and then the eating begins.

We were escorted to an upper room with a large spread of fabulous food- buffet style. I took my plate and began going around. Not wanting to look too excited and hungry, I just got a few things here and there, thinking I would come back for seconds. After finishing my first plate, I asked if it was okay to go again. My Ethiopian friends looked shocked that I would even ask, and sternly advised me not to go. Note to self: it is a one-trip buffet. Pile it high next time!

The wedding went on for an hour more, with eating and drinking and being merry. Then the bride left her father’s home, crying, and the groom took her back to his home, where there was more singing, dancing, and food. It was a whole day event, although I didn’t stay for it all.