Two weeks ago, I attended the wedding of my language tutor, Moureen. Soon after my arrival, she eagerly spoke of her upcoming wedding and invited me attend. shortly thereafter, she asked me to be a maid—this of course coming as a bit of a surprise considering our relationship only rooted in a two month history. It took me a little time respond to her request as I wrestled with her intentions in asking (leave it to me to analyze!)—was it because of the prestigue of having a muzungu maid?- was it because of pressure from the church or community?- was it because of the financial backing expected from a westerner?- or was it because of a general desire to have a new friend celebrate the day? Eventually I said yes and spent the following months apprehensively dreading the actual day.
Two weekends ago, it came and went and I must say that I was so pleasantly surprised by how wonderful of an event it was! The weekend turned into being nothing like I expected. It wasn’t about parading me about (sometimes I can be quite self-centered!), it was about community and celebrating the union of two people whom are dearly loved. I was not centerstage, for the first time in a while, I felt like I was able to blend into the landscape (as much as that is possible!). I was part of the celebrants, I was just one other member of the community.
Friday afternoon was the introduction, an unknown ceremony to me until a few months ago. An introduction is more or less a giant celebration in which the groom accompanied by his entoruage (family and friends) visit the bride’s home where she is waiting with all her relatives and friends. Its roots began (so I’m told) in the tradition of the bride and groom’s parents and relatives meeting for the first time to negotiate dowry and to offically make it known of their intentions to wed. Today, it’s basically just a party where there’s lots of food, traditional dress and the giving of “gifts” to the bride’s family instead of a dowry. (Here’s a little hint: if you meet a Ugandan—at least a Busoga, don’t mention the word dowry when talking of marriage, you’ll hit a senstive nerve. Dowry is something of the past, its primiative, undermines women—some would say. Giving “gifts” however is perfectly permissible and compulsory. I’m not sure about you but to me this is just a play on semantics—dowry? Gifts? Seems to me same old thing just repackaged in more politically correct terms).
The wedding took place on Saturday and as a maid, I must say, I looked pretty darn good. Okay, I actually felt like it was Halloween and I was playing dressup but that’s besides the point. I matched all the other maids perfectly; except for the minor detail of my pale complexion to contrast their dark chocolate features. I had the black curly extensions (spent hours at the salon the night before as they tried their darnedest to get them to stay!), the crazy mesh hat and the glowing smile of a happy maid amongst her friends. I didn’t catch the bouquet, so unfortunately for some (my pursuers) but fortunately for others (me) no wedding plans in my future!
Its time for a little tangent—join me if you’d like….The day following the wedding, I was sitting with a few of the other maids and looking at photos of the prior day’s festivities. Although I don’t have the depth of relationships here that I had become accustomed to throughout my years of university, I am realizing that to expect intense, meaningful relationships everywhere I go may not be realistic. Perhaps my expections were set just a little too high. Not to brag, but I must say, I have some pretty incredible friends. Revitalizing is a good word for these relationships and even in spite of the distance between us, I’ve been blessed to have people in my life who’ve made countless effort to live life alongside me—whether in Paris or Baltimore—Allentown,New Haven, or Harrisburg. Even from afar, these relationships have sustained me and breathed new life into me. In days of frustration, in moments of loneliness, in situations when I feel intolerably inadequate, I know I am not alone here. I think that’s one of the most precious, beautiful, unfathomable things about love- it can be felt even without physical contact.
Sorry for that digression- back to the main point… staring at the smiling faces in the photographs helped me to realize that the smiling faces in the photo were no longer mere acquaintances but have gradually and naturally become friends. Certainly not to the level of others but nonetheless, I have friends here—people I can laugh with, become teary-eyed with (not quite ready to cry with yet), and just “be” with. The gift of one’s presence is often the greatest gift of all. This year is about giving that gift to others but also receiving it from others as well. From the invitation to the extensions, I felt like I really, truly belonged for the first time. Somehow, someway, I just fit.
pick harrisburg. please.