Wedding, Kenya Style

Wedding Day! Isaiah, a brother of Francis, was getting married. In short, the entire wedding experience offered an interesting comparison to life in the US. About a month earlier, Francis has told me that we needed to stop at a meeting briefly before heading home. The meeting turned out to be a committee meeting for the group that was doing most of the planning for the wedding. That’s right, it was a wedding committee. Harriet, the bride-to-be, was involved but her man Isaiah was still in Australia finishing his academics (he made it back in time for the wedding). Even though I had never seen such a method of planning a wedding, it made sense as a way to involve friends and family to ease the burden of organizing everything. However, I was caught off guard just a bit when I got a copy of the meeting AGENDA, which included a report from the previous meeting (they met once a month and then once a week in the month before the wedding). The report also included how much money had been raised for each aspect of the overall cost (tent, entertainment, food, etc). Yes, the committee was raising money to cover a lot of the wedding expenses. They even passed the hat around the meeting to continue the collections. It was interesting to see that a few of the members had brought friends or coworkers to the meeting. These too were invited to contribute and were asked if they had any personal contacts who might be able to assist with some aspect of the planning (music, food, etc). The meeting was done in an hour, with the chairman keeping the discussion moving. Overall, I found an interesting contrast between Kenya, where so many things seem to run on “African Time,” and this efficient, well-organized approach to planning a wedding (complete with a chairman and printed agenda).

So, back to the wedding day. Speaking of African Time, the Francis household was running on AT that morning. Although Francis had told me that we would be leaving by 9, some were still asleep at 8:30. Francis said that I would go with Faith, so I should be ready by 9:30. Faith, my KFC coworker and niece to Francis, had come with her husband and son to pick up a few people. When Faith arrived, she came in to have a cup of tea. So much for being “ready” for Faith. After she and Harrison, her husband, finished tea, we left. Francis’ mother came with us. I had no idea where we were going but I assumed we were going to a church? We stopped in Umoja, where Faith and Harry used to live. Why Umoja? So that Faith’s son Roger could get a haircut, of course. Roger was in the bridal party. Also, Francis’ mother needed to get her hair dried at the salon across the way. If I had heard a little bit about our schedule for the day before we left, all of this would have been less of a surprise to me. Instead, I just thought it was funny. With everyone’s hair sufficiently primped, we headed on.

We arrived at the church not too much before the ceremony was to start, and the wedding eventually started about 45 minutes late. I kept wondering, if this wedding were set in the US, who would be pulling more hair out—the priest or the bride and groom? How much would the regimented Saturday schedule suffer at St. Anselm church, where I believe a program of TWO weddings in a day is the norm (done before 4:30 mass), if the first wedding started this late? Regardless, I noticed how calm and happy everyone looked. There was no frenzied commotion, no irritated toe-tapping and no hysterics about the fact that things weren’t running according to the plan. I expect this lack of anxiety meant that Isaiah and Harriet’s wedding day was a blessed and joyful day for all, as wedding days should be? Hmm... interesting. The wedding itself was fine. One of the women of the parish spoke (too long) near the end, to welcome Isaiah and Harriet to the parish. Then, a group of about 15 women from the parish circled around the bride and groom and prayed/sang for them. Despite that I was already envisioning the buffet line, it was a very nice gesture.

[Sorry, a long entry for a long day!] Feel free to continue comparing this wedding experience to your most recent wedding experience in the US. I think it’s interesting. The reception was held outside at a sports club. Thankfully, three tents had been set up to shield everyone from the afternoon sun. The buffet line offered some great African food. The choice of drinks was either soda (AKA “pop” depending on where in the US you live)... or soda. When the bridal party arrived, a group of women went out to welcome them. This whole group, including the bridal party, marched in to the center of the reception, singing and dancing as they came. Francis was among the women, singing and dancing as well, but that’s Francis for you. It looked like a fun way to kick off your reception. Part of the entertainment was a group of men who sang a few traditional songs. At one point, they invited all the women to come up and dance. Gulp, you know what’s coming next. As the only other white guy at the reception (Isaiah’s friend from US was in the wedding party), I couldn’t escape when it was time for the men to dance. Somehow the wedding party didn’t have to join in so I was the ONLY white guy in the circle. Everyone seemed to get a good laugh watching the mzungu (that’s me) trying to follow along with the moves of the Kenyan guys. Seriously, there was a young boy in front of me in the dance line and I was partly following his lead. After a few speeches, things were mostly over. There weren’t any other dances and no litany of special dances (bride/father, groom/mother, bride/old boyfriend, etc). As is the norm here, the reception finished before dark because then everyone has to travel home—by car, bus, matatu and foot.

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