Day 12

12/28/08

It is now noon on Monday. Yesterday was unreal. I woke up at around 7:30am, had a small breakfast consisting of a banana and tea. Then I caught a ride into town in the van with Anne and her family on their way to church. It was already 8:45am and the weddings were supposed to begin at 9am, so I quickly found a boda motorcycle and took a bumpy ride to Nabugoya Hill and the Abayudaya.
I arrived a couple of minutes after 9am and walked down to the guesthouse. I sat for a few minutes with the muzungus and then we all made our way to the grassy area right outside the synagogue. None of the brides nor any grooms had found their way to the place yet so, working on African/Jewish time again, we waited. Men who were related to the wedding parties were dressed in an array of occasion-clothing, from suits to sportcoats to business-casual wear. Guests wore regular every-day clothing. Women dressed in colorful dresses with pinched shoulders, apparently a “peacock-style” dress that is customarily worn as such joyous occasions. The women entered the synagogue making these sounds that I can only describe as…African. It is a high-pitched version of the sounds one makes when patting the opening of the mouth while screaming a solid note. But their hands were nowhere near their mouths; they were up in the air leading the way for the women’s spins and hops as they made their way toward the front of the synagogue. African and Abayudaya music was played on speakers and the scene that was forming as we took our seats in the synagogue at around 9:30am was an informal one, and I became excited for a loud, fun, African wedding.
At around 12:00pm the first couple made their appearance. Rabbi Gershom announced that they had arrived, which was unnecessary because it was obvious due to the sounds made by the women outside the synagogue who were awaiting their arrival. The man entered the synagogue first, surrounded by an entourage of people to the point where it was difficult to pick out the groom. Nobody wore matching colors or suits and everybody just stormed the scene to the point at which it was completely impossible for me to have any clue as to what was going on until one man was left standing under the chuppah…I tagged him as the groom. Then the woman entered in a black and white dress, her hair stylishly arranged. Several older women and even more younger ones danced her down the aisle, making those high-pitched la-la-la sounds the whole way down. They reached the chuppah and the entourage crowded the couple’s space right outside the chuppah. The couple faced the crowd, staring straight ahead without making eye contact with anyone and never revealing a smile. The rabbi said a blessing on a cup of wine and the groom drank a bit before bringing the cup to his bride’s mouth. The rabbi then handed the groom a ring and recited the words “Harei At Mekudeshet Li, B’Taba’at Zu, K’Hilchot Moshe V’Yisrael,” “Behold you become sanctified to me, by way of this ring, according to the laws of Moses and Israel.” The groom repeated the statement to his bride, and then the rabbi handed the her a ring and she performed the same ritual, changing the words that relate to a female to those which relate to a male. The women made their sounds once again and jumped up and down in excitement. Rabbi Gershom and the two visiting rabbis then recited the first six of the seven blessings made over another cup of wine. Before the last blessing, the bride and groom were wrapped in a tallit, a prayer shawl. At this point they faced eachother and looked into each other’s eyes until the end of the ceremony. The rabbi recited the final blessing and the crowd went wild. The music blasted through the synagogue and the bride and groom were danced out of the building and down to the guesthouse.
The rabbi then suggested that, in order to fit everyone and in hopes of a cooler setting, we move to the front of the guesthouse where three tents had been erected. The crowd made their way down, each person carrying their chair from the synagogue with them. Younger people carried two chairs, the elders carried none. When everyone had settled in under the tents, the next bride and groom were driven down the rocky path in a jeep. Another entourage (I can’t swear it was made up of different people…too many colors) came rushing down the hill surrounding the jeep, singing, dancing, and making that noise. This time, there was an equal amount of men as there were women. The bride a groom made their way to the chuppah, this couple smiling the entire way, and the rest of the wedding proceeded similarly to the first. The final wedding, not to take away from its significance, was a repeat, although it seemed to be the youngest couple with the most enthusiastic friends, unless it was just the point where everyone accepted how sweaty we were and didn’t care about soaking their clothes anymore. This time one of the visiting rabbis read the Ketubah, the marriage contract, to the crowd. Everyone – Jews, Muslims, and Christians present – went wild at the end. After the weddings, I went with Jen to Rabbi Gershom’s house and was fed a good big lunch (and then some) of rice and peas by Jen’s friend Rachel who I think was Rabbi Gershom’s niece although I may have gotten the relationship wrong. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast much earlier in the morning, and then spent the day in the some trying to sing with the crowd, and I was hungry. The doctor from Chicago, Dr. Feldman I believe, joined us. We ate and then I returned to the guesthouse and spoke with the Israeli’s for a bit.
Then the music festival began. The videos only attempt to do it justice and my words can’t even make a dent. Imagine a National Geographic special on African dancing, but with more clothing. The women stole the show, with groups from each Jewish village sharing two or three songs, the only instruments being their vocal chords, bodies, and two bongos. The performers ranged from single-digit ages to some women who must have been in their 50’s, and it seemed as if not a single limb of any individual was attached to any other limb of that individual. The videos are worth asking me for. To top it off, the last dance of the last group was crashed by three muzungus who will remain un-named until I get permission (some might say they made fools of themselves, which they did, but the crowd loved it!).
After the music festival, we attended the afternoon service, lit the candles for the last night of Chanukah, and sang some songs in the synagogue. This was mostly just muzungus and the rabbi’s family, and it was a nice way to say goodbye to the holiday. The Israeli’s, a dancing muzungu and I then caught a ride to town with a friend, and after stopping at their hotel to drop off their things, we went out for a few beers. I took a boda motorcycle home at around 11pm. A long but absolutely incredible day.