300 Brides and 300 Grooms!

I had such a peculiar day a couple of weeks ago which I've been meaning to jot down....

In my haste, I deeply regretted forgetting my camera and video camera and my mobile phone died in the 2 hour hunt!   I did manage to borrow one of our neighbour's mobile phones for a few low res photos  

A. so I don't forget the details if I get to be an old lady and am telling tales to my grandchildren  

B. to hopefully provide you with some amusement.  

One of our trainees, Irene, and one of our MAF night guards, Steve, invited me to come to their wedding.   For many Ugandans, weddings and 'introductions' (like an engagement party) are so expensive they often settle with having a registry wedding without a service and reception.   An evangelical church in Kampala has generously offered to host a mass wedding ceremony once every 6 months to help address this economical dilemma for many struggling couples.  The church provide the wedding dress & accessories along with hair styling and make up, the groom's suit, rings (not real gold of course), reception for 7 guests per couple and even a wedding cake for every couple.  I was a little daunted about going along, but my lovely Dina (house-help and trainer of our cooking school) was also invited as one of the 7 guests so we agreed to go side by side into the throng of 5,000!  

We spent quite a long time getting lost having encountered a truck blocking the dirt road entrance to the church.   To set the scene, the church is near a lake littered with garbage and surrounded by slums.   We made our way through the first security check and parked our car in a crowded car park.   Because of the swarming crowds, we decided to walk outside of the grounds to grab a chapati rolex (omelette inside a chapati...local roadside filler)   We were already a bit of a spectacle because being a 'muzungu'  (white person) you can't help but stand out and we were both coincidentally dressed in bright purple dresses and I was carrying a red and white polkadot umbrella for shade.  I find a bit of 'L'Ugandan chit chat with the street sellers helps to level the attention to bearable the affect being the locals beaming back at you with further banter to test out how much you really know.   It's hard to explain, but you either enjoy the experience of looking like an alien by acknowledging the locals or resist and feel uncomfortable standing out like a sore thumb.  Its only taken me about 8 years to figure this out...  

After we armed ourselves with rolex and fried motoki, we yet again attempted going through the security check, this time by foot.   The girl checking me, decided I looked a bit questionable and so went through every single little item in my handbag...she pulled out my bobby-pins box and opened it saying, "What's this??"  I explained it was for my hair...next she opened my headphones case, "and what's this??"  "A headphone's case"...then she pulled out a torch as if it was some kind of a weapon..."And what is this!?  Can you open it please?"  At this point I was starting to feel like she was just being nosey as she continued rifling through my handbag.   My low-blood sugar, (we hadn't eaten our emergency supplies yet) the heat, the crowds, her rifling...I could feel my hackles beginning to rise.   I muttered something about not being someone who would have a bomb in my torch or bobby-pins box and added that I just wanted to go and witness my friends getting married...so could I please go now?  And for good measure I asked for her name.   So on Dina and I went...Dina slightly embarrassed that I asked for the rifler's name, being the gentle soul that she is, me explaining that I would have been much more pliable with her rifling once I had eaten something.   

We got to entrance number one and a crowd of about 100 of us were barricaded and told we couldn't enter that way anymore.   We then made our way around to entrance number 2 and were again told that they wouldn't allow anymore guests entrance.  We waved our guest invitation in the hope it would magically open the doorway to us, but no, apparently the outdoor auditorium was already fully squeezed with more guests than expected.   We plodded on determinedly to entrance number 3 but stopped where some other disgruntled, fatigued guests were sitting or lying in an overflow marquee area and wisely ate our supplies before facing the next obstacle.  By this point we were about 2 hours late for the time that our bride and groom said they would be married.   We attempted entrance number 3 and were again barricaded along with a pushy crowd.    I then implored the security guard, "We are all wedding guests and have invitations, surely you can let us all in??"   I was given a negative response so at this point I turned around exasperated and marched off in the direction of the exit.   "Come on Dina, we tried our best.  Lets go home....this is too much!"  My marching drew the attention of some church officials who followed us and said, "Hey, Muzungu, what's wrong?"  "I've tried to get into this jolly wedding for 2 hours and so I'm going home."  "Ah, you come, you come...we will help you get in."   At last we were led inside to another marquee with tables and sat down on the fringe of the ceremony...we could see there were hundreds of white brides and suit-decked grooms squeezed onto a red carpeted area. 

The groom had asked us to call him once we were inside.   He answered our call and then said, 'Well I'm about to do the vows so I can't really talk right now'.....I quickly hung up...only in Africa would you be calling a groom just before he's saying his vows!   I then suggested to Dina that we may as well hunt them down ourselves.   Dina asked, 'But how will we find them?'  'We're not going to find them, they're going to find us!  I'm the only muzungu among 5000 people and I'm wearing bright purple and holding a bright red umbrella!'   We started making our way through the sea of white dresses and black suits and as predicted saw 2 hands waving in the distance at us right at the very front....We miraculously made it to them just as one of the many Marriage Ceremony pastors approached to begin their vows!   Suddenly Dina and I were somehow matching purple bridesmaids as the bride passed her somewhat wilted lily to Dina and we huddled together to hear the vows being recited!   I suddenly felt a buzz of excitement which made all of the fighting our way into the auditorium worth this moment.   The heat of the day and the fact that the female pastor had been marrying couples for the last 4 hours seemed to be taking its toll as she kept calling Irene 'Florence'.  The previous bride married off who was indeed called 'Florence',  asked if I would have my photo taken with her and her groom...maybe because Dina and I did so well as stand-in bridesmaids?    Before I had time to comply I was ushered over to our designated table with the 5 other guests to admire the decorated wedding cake still clad in cellophane.  We watched as the 300 freshly wedded couples began dancing in only the way I've seen Africans dance...with abandonment and freedom... Because after-all, they always look cool...they know instinctively how to move and they don't know what 'inhibition' means when it comes to dancing.

A dark rain storm was looming so Dina and I decided against joining the very long queue for food and legged it to the car park.    On the way out we drove past a truck laden with police sitting face out towards our window....'Hey Muzungu...you getting married?'   'No sebot (sir), I've been married for 21 years!'...I should have added 'And you think I would get married in purple?'