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Published: April 15th 2008
Waiting to start
On the right is the band (drums and 3 acoustic guitars) and on the left you can see the area set aside for SistersA very busy weekend- know you're waiting for my 'Life in a convent' but thought ought to get this one down before I forget the details.
Saturday I went to a 'kitchen party', which is like a hen party but after the wedding. Am afraid I haven't got any photos of this; noone was taking any and I wasn't sure it would be appreciated. However think would have been OK if I'd have been a bit braver.
A kitchen party is a women-only party for the bride after her wedding. The invites specify colours and you have to buy a present of kitchen utensils using them. My bride was called Melody (!) and the colours were blue, green, black and silver. We bought some metal storage containers.
The invite said 2pm so, finding out the score I dutifully turned up at 3pm at the Red Cross Hall. There were some rows of chairs with about 20 women and babies there, and over the next hour or so, the room gradually filled up. At about 4pm some of the leading women (who were wearing a uniform of white blouse and black skirt) started up some singing, which was stunning to
be in the middle of. All bouncy religious songs sung in Nyaanja, but everyone knew their role and automatically took on different parts, with many different harmonies, and everyone standing up and clapping the rhythms alongside. I have to get some of this music! The MC then decreed that we would in turn go up tribe by tribe to the front to dance. The most impressive was a woman who managed to sing, dance quite energetically and breastfeed at the same time...
The three of us VSOs were designated the 'Msungu' (not sure of the spelling but it's slang for 'whites') tribe so we also had to go and do our stint. We were not very good but we got an appreciative clap, and I got a laugh when I tried to wiggle my backside like them. There was then a bit of a gap and we got rearranged, more women arrived, and the bridal party turned up. The bride came in surrounded by women doing a shuffle dance. She had her head covered with a 'chitengi' (?not sure of spelling but is the standard skirt cloth) and was sat down on the floor at the front, still covered
Procession
You can see the Stellas in the background up. Everyone sang some more songs, lots of ululating (the screams with wiggling tongues you can hear on some of my videos), Halleluias and Amens. Also, call and responses like 'J- O-Y' and 'J-E-S-U-S'. The groom then shuffled in, wearing a loud shirt to match the bride's. His job was to lift the veil to make sure that it was the woman he'd married who'd turned up. This was done to a frenzy of excitement by the women there. However, the bride's job is to look as miserable as possible as she's sad she's leaving her family (like Romanies I understand). She did look suitably awful and was reluctant to look her husband in the eye. There was a bit of a hug and the groom shuffled out.
Once he had gone (we later saw him waiting outside) we were treated to a sermon, which was very kindly delivered in both Nyaanja and English, telling us how to be good wives. Those of us who had any idea we had married the wrong one should be reassured that God had definitely picked the right one. We should not nag or be quarrelsome as it says in Proverbs that it
is better for a man to live in the corner of his roof than with a quarrelsome wife. Those of us who hadn't yet been so blessed would find our surest route would be to live a Godly life as God would undoubtedly find a husband for us. There were more prayers and then something have never seen before- everyone was asked to do a private prayer to be a good wife, and the room was just filled with this murmur of 200 different prayers for a minute, which was very odd to me. I just hope the guys got the equivalent spiel!
Following this was the signal for supper, but we left then. After supper the presents would have been opened, with each giver having to say why they had chosen that particular gift.
Sunday I got up at 5am to be picked up to be taken to Petauke for the highlight of the Sisters' year, their festival, at which new nuns take their final vows. Was a tight squeeze with 16 of us in the van. We got there at 7.45 and kicked our heels for an hour but were in our seats, outside under some trees
(bit like our rectory garden but much bigger and squarer!) for 8.45 with the official start at 9. Things started moving at 9.30 with a procession in by the Women's Catholic League (WCL) and the Stellas. The WCL came in a shuffle, which over the course of the service I learnt with the help of a woman behind me so by the end was joining in. Each was carrying a different cooking implement. I thought it was fairly random until it was explained to me; the first person has a pestle and mortar for grinding the maize, the next two have two types of sieve for sifting out the chaff. There is then a saucepan with a nshima spoon so it can be cooked, then a plate, and finally two women with cooking pots on their heads (for the washing up, I think). The Stellas are like the new Sisters' bridesmaids and they stand at the front with their own dance; they've got identical dresses in white or pink with little bonnets and look dead sweet. I would have hated wearing that kind of stuff when I was younger. The music was more mellow than that of the kitchen party,
though still joyful, and it was also good to hear the men singing as well.
There were lots of songs to which everyone jigged along to, interspersed by prayers (of course) and then the Bishop gave a sermon, I think about perseverance and sticking at things. It was a priest's birthday, and one of the Sisters also had her 25th anniversary (since taking her vows; will leave details of their training for another time!). The six 'brides of Christ' then came up, wearing their habits with tiaras of flowers. They lay down at the front and we said some long prayers. Each one then took her vows. They each broke a ceramic pot filled with confetti and then all had to rummage to find their wedding rings, which were on the floor and probably muddled up. There was a song while we waited as each went up and signed the Register.
When that was over, we went into the Catholic Mass. I recognised most parts, and we did the peace but wasn't sure what people were saying so I just said 'Peace be with you' when we shook hands. I thought Communion would take ages as there was
a good 1000 people there. However, they sent priests out into the congregation, and it was very efficient.
After mass, there were some speeches by the local bigwigs. I found out a little later from the driver, Simon, about the chap who got lots of laughs and the biggest cheer. He was a tribal chief who said that he and the other local chiefs had agreed that from now on they would only have one wife and not five, and he in particular would be setting an example. They had committed to God and would be attending church more often; they hadn't been able to so far because of the wives.
It was then congratulations to the new sisters, and a receiving line was formed and everyone came up with their presents (I hadn't been warned about this so sadly had no present).
Everything finally finished about 2.30- so was a 5 hour service. Was good under the trees but as the sun moved round I got the full force about mid-day so was desperately slapping on factor 50 and glugging water.
The sister of Simon was one of the novices taking her vows (Sister Everyn
(?as I heard it)), so I got introduced and got some pictures
We then walked round to the Petauke Sisters' House for the reception in the garden. There was one long table for honoured guests under a canopy, the next level down (including me) got chairs under the canopy and everyone else spread themselves around the garden. Coke and Fanta were brought round (much appreciated) and we then queued for the feast, which was superior Zambian fare- rice, chicken, beef, relish, potatoes and, of course, nshima.
We left about 4.30pm. The Sisters from my house stayed the night there (they had also arrived on Saturday). The tradition is that the day after there is a party just for Sisters. It is partly a goodbye party for the newly-avowed Sisters as the Church will send them all over the country away from their families (though they will spend a few days later with their families before they leave for their new lives). In addition, it is during this party that they welcome any new novices arriving to learn to be a Sister. So the cycle begins again....
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Cris
non-member comment
Good old Women's Catholic League - those girls know their beer!