A Wedding in Africa

Dora Saga died in November, 2013.  She was as beloved a friend as is her husband.  Her death was tough on Dr. Saga.  He managed a brave countenance while the wazungu medical people were here in January, 2014.  However, just after we were here last year, Dr. Saga’s daughters took him aside.  The three boys had returned to their jobs in Dar es Salaam after a couple weeks, but his two daughters stayed for a couple months taking care of him.  The conversation went something like this, I believe.

“Dad, we have noticed how sad you are.  We want you to be alive for a long time.  So we think you should get remarried.”

“And,” they added, “we have chosen two women for you to choose from.”  Now of course I wasn’t there, but I did have the conversation first hand from Dr. Saga.  He said he knew both women and Dora had known them and worked with them for twenty years.  He also remarked that he thought someone was courting the one he was interested in and he had better get busy!  Mwamoody confirms the veracity of my recollection.

Yesterday was the culmination of the year-long courtship. 

We got up to a beautiful morning.  The day before there had been a huge thunderstorm which took out the electricity for a while.  In the middle of the night, Moody discovered we had no water.  He reluctantly called Dr. Saga, who called Habakuk, who in the morning once again turned on the water.   “Thirty minutes,” Habakuk said.  (More like 300 minutes.)  Of course, the tank had been emptied and so it needed to fill along with any pipes lower than the tank before there was actually water available for us to use, which wasn’t by 10:00 AM.  We all managed however, and the water was available to the toilets by the time the wedding service was over.  Whew!

The wedding was to start at noon, then the reception at 2 pm in Ilula Mtua.  Of course, the bishop was an hour late, so the time frame started off behind, generally as expected. 

The ceremony at Ilula Lutheran Church was lovely – what we could see of it through the many photographers!  The choirs were wonderful of course.  There were many honorees at the service too.  Rev. Msigwa was drafted into translating for Mchungaji Lamont who delivered the first portion in Swanglish, some in Kihehe and the remaining in actual American, with which Msigwa is very comfortable.

A pretty familiar order of service followed and concluded with the bishop officiating.  Then pontificating for another 15 minutes, mixed with some further introductions.  I think the shortest wedding I have ever witnessed was about 10 minutes.  Pretty sure this one was at the distant other end of the spectrum.  We still loved it!

A few of the dignitaries retired to the guest-house for cocktails, but generally settled for beer and use of our now functioning our “facilities.”

The bride and groom came out of the church to cheering and adoration.  Soon, people boarded buses to go to the reception just a few kilometers away.  When we were ready after refreshments, we made our way to where the buses were, but they were gone.

A real treat was a small brass band that played before the wedding.  If we had to wait for the bishop, this was compensation.  They played several numbers and we enjoyed it!

We bumped into the trombone player as we were looking for a ride and he offered to bring us to the reception hall.  We clamored into his vehicle, 14 of us.  But it was only a short distance.

The reception was fun and we enjoyed ourselves.  We were escorted to tables in the front, each table with an interpreter.  The tables had sodas and fruit juices and one table had some wine, so we visited that table!

A crazy MC presided.  Families were introduced, special guests too. There were a couple skits.  One number was a guy doing a quick change through several costumes.  Another was a sort of acrobat, in what I would call a hobo costume, certainly in contrast to the finely dressed people at the reception.  His shtick was breathing flame, but was so-so at best.  Actually, several of us wazungu did a Hehe dance, which was much more impressive, if you ask me.

There were several processions with gifts to the bride and groom.  Gifts were brought forward.  Three identical fifty piece place service sets along with glasses, mugs and other necessaries for housekeeping (and entertaining large groups).   There were pieces of fabric, nearly bolts, not merely 6 foot katangas.  And what would a Tanzanian wedding be without a live goat?  It was brought by for men, raised above their heads.

In place of a “dollar” dance, they used processions, women to Anitha and men to Dr. Saga.  Each of us dropped a few TZS on the katanga as we came forward.  Looked to me like it netted at least as much as a dollar dance would have.

The wedding was truly classy.  Someone reported it was the biggest wedding Ilula had ever seen.  I don’t doubt it!

Our hosts arranged for us to be brought back to Ilula in three vehicles and about all I remember before I quickly fell off to sleep was the hope that all of us were in the guesthouse as I had locked the door.  Oh well, they can knock.  Zzzzzzzzzzzz.