I put on my most scruffy clothes in order to do some laundry in the garden and then I accidentally crashed a wedding instead.
This all came about when I came across a number of brides maids in the house and asked where the bride was. Instead of telling me, they decided to show me. The bridesmaids were an impressive sight. They wore floor length yellow dresses and to protect themselves against the chilly African summer they also wore 3/4 length blue jackets. I tried to apologise at this point for my own scruffy attire (the Velcro on my trousers was long gone and the flies wouldn't stay closed!) but they brushed off my excuses and said that white people always dressed as I had. Which I received with mixed feelings as the most inadvertently backhanded complement I'd ever heard.
The bride (who was the youngest of 14 children) was at home in the neighbouring street in her white dress. Unlike British brides, she didn't appear to be wearing any make up. She also wasn't particularly interested in having her photo taken and kept saying that she just wanted to see the groom. In this way we ran half an hour early, which would also never happen in England. By the time I had met the bride, the bridesmaids had already invited me to the wedding and seemed quite offended when I asked the bride if this really was ok. It's very hard to explain how much it's not ok in the UK to turn up to a wedding in the UK without an invite from the bride, groom or their parents. They were a lovely group of girls, largely with a good grasp of English. I asked the one sat next to me how the bride and groom had met and to my amazement she didn't know. No way would this happen at home! To my surprise I was invited to join the bride and bridesmaids for a photo, which I was flattered by (although I suspect it may have something to do with my skin colour) but I was glad to oblige (at this point mama came unexpectedly surging into the room to also get in shot before totally disappearing again.) After this there were some speeches. I couldn't understand what was going on as it was in Swahili so I just stood in the background. The speeches were being filmed and about 75% of the way through I realised that 'in the background' was actually a highly inappropriate place to stand because it meant that I was in shot, unlike the regular audience members.
Once this was over we went outside and I was amazed to find that the yard was full of people including mama. I realised then that the bridesmaids I'd been chatting to on arrival had escorted me into the VIP zone without me having realised it. I felt very unworthy but greeted mum and tagged along with her in the wedding convoy (everyone who had a car appeared to have lent it and allowed them to be bedecked with ribbons) so we drove off to church. Almost the entirety of the bride's reception had been females and at the church we were greeted by the men. Then the whole congregation clapped, cheered, shrieked and whistled the loving couple in through the doors. Mama hung back as the crowd danced after them and I stayed with her but once she was reassured that there would indeed be enough seats inside, we followed on. The service resumed and I came to regret my decision to attend as the sermon alone lasted hours. It was delivered in English by a preacher who had to pause after every sentence for someone else to translate into Swahili. This disjointed speech sounded even more unnatural because he bellowed the whole thing, as if every sentence was a punch line. This even included bible references such as,
"THE BOOK OF JOHN!"
"kitabu cha john"
"CHAPTER SEVEN!"
"sura ya saba"
"VERSE THIRTEEN!"
"aya kumi na tatu"
While all this shouting was irritating me, it didn't seem to have captured the attention of the audience very well either as mama next to me sent a couple of texts.
Eventually the wedding reached it's climax. The audience was delighted, we were shouting and whooping and someone had brought a whistle to give a bit of extra gravitas to the vows. To my surprise, instead of saying "you may kiss the bride" the pastor said something along the lines of "you may feed the bride wedding cake" and a cake feeding ceremony commenced that involved a good chunk of the audience (sadly it ran out before it reached me). This ensured that good cheer was restored again before we were released from the church. I quickly decided that I'd had enough ceremony for one day and much to the disappointment of the bridesmaids I trotted off to be reunited with the rest of the volunteers, who were busy painting a children's home.
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