…literally, days long!
About 2 weeks before the actual event happened, my host family
informed me that my 16-ish (age is usually unknown here) year old sister was
going to get married. My emotions went in two directions at this point. One –
super excited because I get to experience a wedding being held in my own home!
Two – bummed that I will witness the reality in my own home of a 16-year old
getting married, a very common occurrence in this country.
My family was very excited about me having a traditional
appearance for this wedding, which usually includes a complet (the outfit they
wear), braids, and henna. So the night before the wedding, my younger sister
went to work applying henna on my feet.
The process here involves covering your feet in designs made
out of strips of something resembling medical tape and then covering that with
the henna paste. Then, you have to sit for a long time to let that sink in, but
for whatever reason this also requires you to cover your feet in plastic bags
while you wait?? So since it was nighttime already, I ended up sleeping with
plastic bags on my feet for a night haha. The next morning (the day I was told
the wedding would start), the bags were taken off and all of the henna paste
scraped off. I thought this was the end, but THEN they cover your feet with a
mixture of something called “manioc” and charcoal powder, which makes the henna
black. You sit with that for another hour or two, and then you’re finally done!
It’s supposed to turn completely black, but mine turned a combo of black and
yellow, so I just looked like I had bruises all over my feet – eew. But my
family, and in fact the entire village, loved it! Everyone noticed and was
super excited I had henna on my feet. Though most of it has faded I still get
lots of comments and I think it’s because my toenails are black right now so
everyone knows I’ve had henna recently…
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| Look at the beautiful coloration... |
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| The Finished Product! |
By about noon no guests had shown up. So I kept asking when
the wedding would start and was told “evening”…but around 6pm people just
started to arrive, so there must have been some organization or method to the
madness! People stayed all evening and we cooked dinner for them in this
insanely large pot that the whole village shares for special occasions. Other
women in the village came to our compound and were in charge of cooking all of
the meals.
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| That's a lot of rice! |
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| Our chefs |
As the evening progressed, people just sat around and
talked, and the young people turned on a radio and started dancing, but no one
went home. Then as it got later, it became evidently clear to me that no one
was going to leave, but that they were all staying at our house until the next
day. So mats got pulled out and people pretty much slept wherever.
The next day, the festivities continued as usual. People sat
around and talked, people listened to music, and there was food! At one point
all of the young girls gathered my sister’s clothes and went to the well to
wash them. Apparently when you get married and move to your husband’s village,
you leave all of your old clothes behind and only take new things with you. So
we washed her clothes and then left them in the hut.
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| Carrying my sister's clothes to the well |
And then it came time for my sister to leave for her
husband’s village. I thought there would be some ceremony or event, but the
groom didn’t even come to our village for this portion of the wedding. When it
was time to leave, a large vehicle pulled up with some of the groom’s friends.
The men said lots of prayers and then my sister was loaded into the car with
her eyes shielded. They then loaded up all of her belongings, and any of the
guests that wanted to go to the groom’s village PILED in (I didn’t go to this
part – it was kinda far and my host dad was a bit worried about me attending).
From what I understand, the groom’s village is pretty much a replica of what
happened in our village: talking, eating, dancing.
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| My host sister sitting with her head covered while prayers are said |
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| Being carried to the car |
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| People waiting to pile in |
So for one day our compound quieted down and then after one
day of festivities in the groom’s village, they all came back! The car pulled
in again and all of these women, minus my sister, unloaded. They stayed one
more night at our house and on the 4th day finally started to return
home. Once everyone had left, the silence was heaven. I obviously stuck out
through all of this so everyone wanted to talk to me – my Pulaar got a workout
which also meant I was extremely tired at the end of every day!
Overall the experience was not quite what I had expected.
The event seemed almost sterile to me because no one really paid any attention
to the bride. It was a gathering because of her but that didn’t seem to matter.
And when it was time to leave for the groom’s village, neither my host mom or
host dad went along, nor did they say goodbye to her. Considering that in
Senegal, not a lot of travel happens between villages, even a 10K move can mean
months before you see each other again, so I found this particularly sad. My
village loved my outfit though and people are constantly asking me why I’m not
wearing my complet!
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| My host mom and me |
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It was a great adventure in terms of cultural integration!
Thanks for reading! Peace & love, Lindsay
