Nebaza Katonda: Part 2--Here Comes the Bride, WOO!

"That was the craziest wedding I've ever been to."

"You have to eat!"
"Grace, we don't have time to eat!"
"What's she want?"
"Grace wants us to eat. She says no African wedding starts on time."
"But we're late. Our Matatu is already here! We don't have time to eat."
"She seems to be sure that no African wedding starts on time. She says we'll be hungry. We have to eat before we leave."
:sigh:
Like good grumbling American students, we herded into the dining room and waited for the pasta to be brought out. Jumah's wedding was today! All dressed up (and pretty western snazzy I must say) most of us were on our way and excited for our first African wedding! Someone told us that it was just like a western wedding, so some of the group opted to only go to the reception. A wedding! But at present we were stuck under Grace's discerning eye, forced to eat. We'd never make it by noon! "You have 10 minutes to eat," Kenny grousingly instructed the table. Julia put on her sunglasses and shook her head. We ate begrudgingly.

Jumah was one of our Ugandan student assistants from Cornerstone Development who helped us navigate the precariousness of Kampala Kabonye taxis parks, among other things. A jokester...mmm, yeah. Serious....er...could be. And he was marrying Alice today (whom we hadn't met but who he assured us he paid an exorbitant bride price for). Our taxi pulled down a dirt road filled with craters and pulled up to a creme, plaster building with a taffetta arch in front of the entry. Paul, the other student assistant keeping professional guard of the taffeta arch, smiled as we unloaded.

The Wedding
Started at 1:15! The few on-time stood clapping with the energetic worship band for an hour waiting for Jumah/Alice to arrive. Precocious Steve, a contact-obsessed Ugandan "jr. pastor", harrassed the 13 of us for our email addresses and photos for forty of those 60 minutes.

Alice was stunning. There was no wedding march but ugandan pop music instead and the bride and groom danced/marched toward one another (meeting in the middle) in between a entryway of 9 (wedding shuffle)bridesmaids in hot-pink and polka dot dresses. No comment. The bride and groom sat with everyone for the message, and every now and then, an excited relative would spasm and burst

"HALLELUJAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"

whenever he got really excited about his friend getting married. The room would erupt in clapping and his school mates from the back would start chanting. The messages were one of those appalling "Man is the ultimate Head" speeches. "Even if you're the president of the country, in the home, you are the wife of Jumah." I--didn't comment. The pastor went on and on like that for a long time. Jumah and Alice went up to the front to say their vows and everytime something important would happen, the drummer would start drumming in the background! "I do". Boom boom boom boom bum, Buh-dum-ch. Ahahah, Meghan and I tried to keep our laughing quiet. In fact, there was drumming and music for everything! The entire hour and a half was filled with celebratory African worship music. I thought in my head about how quiet and orderly American weddings are. Jumah smiled at his bride and wiped sweat off his brow. Nothing was interpreted for the vows, so I have no idea what was going on. Just like in traditional

(HALLELUJAHHHHH!!! :applause: :chanting:)

African culture, she kneeled on the floor, said her vows, and gave him her ring. I--didn't comment. And then, they hugged. Ahaha, they never kissed. Then they disappeared on the side of the stage where the bridesmaids shielded them, in order to sign the marriage certificate, and everyone else danced and clapped frantically to the band on stage. The place was drunk with happiness. At the end, everyone clapped, we threw irritated looks at Precocious Steve, and the wedding march began. The drum heavy instrumental, "Here comes the bride"

WOO!

"all dressed in white"

WOO!
started playing over the loudspeaker and we wooped at intervals when everyone else wooped. Everyone stood outside to congratulate the couple and children ran around Meghan. That wedding was as "western" as a djembe. Meeting the others at the reception, we didn't eat until 7:15pm, after 3 hours of waiting for it to start, 6 lengthy speeches, cutting of the flaming pastry, a power outage, and the (slooow) syncronized wedding shuffle. Precocious Steve stalked our heels and Rachel was proposed to by a Congelese man. That was the craziest wedding I've ever been to. Getting a first hand lesson about the African concept of time, the chaos was a blast, really. I'd have to make sure to nominate Grace for sainthood.