I
roll over and look at my phone clock. 09:32 glares back at me in white bold
numbers against a standard background. Awesome! I slept for 9+ hours! The light
coming in through the crack between floor and door casts a shimmery, silver
light over everything. My bag and shoes were tossed aside when I came in. The
white traditional dress is draped carefully over my desk with its elaborate
blue and purple design looking dark. My camera is near, since I reviewed
pictures with right before going to bed. Remnants of the wedding I attended
yesterday.
When one of my best friends announced that he was going to
have a wedding in two weeks, I was so excited. Even though he is a preparatory
teacher (geography) we still have had plenty of time to have fun. We’ve
developed a great friendship with nicknames and inside jokes. He and Kemal,
another preparatory teacher (civics), have become some of my greatest friends,
so of course Kemal and I were going to go to his wedding. Last week I finally
overcame my introverted fears, went into a new shop, and bought a dress I’d
been eyeing for weeks. Thank goodness, they had a size that fit. I marked the
date on my calendar and acknowledged that no work was going to be done on that
day.
So yesterday I woke up, took a shower for the first time in a
week, shaved calves for the first time in 6 weeks, put in earrings for the
first time since who knows when, did my hair up in a S braid that goes around
my head to keep it out of my way, packed a small side bag with the necessities
and put on my white dress before heading to meet Kemal and Tom, a preparatory
English teacher, at a café.
I am used to people calling out to me. I am used to looks,
especially on market day that state clearly: “WOW! You are white!” but I wasn’t really ready for all the
looks I got walking a short distance to a café to meet friends. Kids that
normally came running fun a hug and twirl, just gawked and smiled. My two
teacher buddies I met up with laughed, smiled, and decided that I was habisha
(Ethiopian) for the day.
Around 12:30 we went to meet other teachers “under the big old
tree near Teklay Haymonut.” This is a giant tree next to a church dedicated to
Saint Teklay Haymonut that is getting built. Although there were no other
teachers, there were lots of primary students on their way back from school.
I’m convinced that God sends me children to remind me to not be so
self-centered. We had an amazing photo shoot and drawing session that made me
forget about all the looks from wearing a traditional dress while were guys
wearing t-shirts and jeans. Although I’d never been over to that part of town
(Selekleka is bigger than I give it credit for), students still knew my name
and wanted to have fun. That was a giant blessing and also a great way to pass
the time. The kids taught me about this dried fruit that comes from the tree,
and they shared their snap peas with me.
It
was probably around 2 (I didn’t wear a watch) when I set out with other
teachers “to go around the mountain towards Eritrea” to the father of the
groom’s house. Walking over rocks and dirt, Tom, Kemal and I talked about the
differences of England English and American English. How did the word “queue”
get switched to “line?” Why do some words have the u taken out (ex. favourite=
favorite)? Why do we add –ed to form past tense verbs, but there are irregulars
(run doesn’t changed to runned)? It’s conversations like this that I love
having in all their goofiness, seriousness and abstractness.
Although
we three got separated from other teachers who knew where they were going, we
did manage to get to the wedding eventually. (There was a detour that involved
jumping a ditch and traipsing through some old cornfields.) The similarities to
a funeral ceremony hit me instantly as I ducked under a canopy of branches,
animal skins, and tarps to sit on a woven skin bench facing teachers on the
other side. Even though we were some of the first people to arrive, there were
benches around the medium size enclosure. Five large colored barrels were
sitting in the middle filled with sewa. Stacks of colored plastic plates, piles
of orange and yellow round, cone-shaped cups were ready -- next to large, gold
tea kettles. The only difference I could readily spot was an area that was left
bench- free.
Soon
plastic plates and cups were being passed around. I didn’t take a cup, but
Kemal didn’t take either. He would whisper my first cultural lesson of the day
to explain. Kemal is Muslim. In villages and traditional cultures, Muslims
cannot eat meat prepared by Christians and vice versa. He explained that it was
okay when we had eaten meat together at another Muslim’s house as that was in
town and with friends, but here he had to respect the culture and refrain from
eating. I don’t like eating on my own, and I really felt uncomfortable eating
next to someone who couldn’t eat, but he insisted that I eat, knowing I had had
an early breakfast. As I was getting some small burbary sauce ladled onto my
injera, one of the servers brought over a plate for Kemal and a bowl of yogurt,
a delicious food that he is allowed to eat. Seeing my smile, the server also
dished some for me next to my meat. I am not Muslim, and I don’t know what
having both says about me in this culture, but the teachers around me smiled
and didn’t seem to be bothered. Kemal was happy. And I have to admit I love
yogurt with burbary even though I don’t get it often. As I wasn’t drinking sewa
(something else Muslims don’t drink either), I was handed a glass of “milk.” It
was chunky like yogurt often is here, but it was delicious.
Other teachers started to filter in next to us. Those of us who had left
earlier didn’t have to go to school for finals today, but those coming in had had to
proctor exams before they were free to come. I did noticed that there were no
women before the teachers came. I was informed that they were either with the
bride or preparing things to come later. During the night I realized that the
enclosure was definitely sectioned based on gender. There was a large area with
mats where the women and children sat, medium size area with men wrapped in
white were on benches, and the third side where teachers of various genders
were cloistered. Speakers and sound system were delivered via camel and soon
music was playing.
As
the sunset, music got louder and sewa cups kept getting refilled the night
passed with dancing, laughing and talking. Yes, I danced. Yes, it was kind of
awkward, but --oh my was it fun! Tigrigna dancing focuses primarily on moving
counter clockwise around in a circle with the beat. There is lots of shoulder
movements involved. Although I had never done it before, teachers were enjoying
showing me how to do something else. It’s also fun to watch others dance to a
beat that is so rich in culture. Kemal mentioned on one song that he didn’t
know-- it was specific to Selekleka and Western Tigray and not Adwa where he is
from.
Throughout
the night people kept asking me to compare this ceremony to American weddings.
Here I never saw a wedding in the sense of vows and exchanges of rings, though
when the groom came around to greet us he had a very posh gold band on his
finger. The various ceremonies I have attended in America range from Air Force
bases, churches and outside venues. I don’t know where the vows were exchanged.
Just that “last night, the groom and groomsmen went to the bride’s house to
have fun all night.” They all returned to the groom’s father’s house this
morning and slept during the day till guest arrived. Even though some time is
allotted for American couples to have pictures taken before the reception, the
guests go a relatively short time without seeing the happy couple. Here I
didn’t see the groom for at least two hour after we arrived and the bride after
it had gotten really dark. Food, music and drinks are things I am thinking are
universals at weddings.
However,
I did learn that this village ceremony is different from those held in Adwa or
other parts of the country. In Adwa the groomsmen go get the bride and bring
her to the groom on the morning of the wedding day. Both bride and groom dance
with guests. Here only the groom danced (at least until we left at 10). Others
told me that the music also differs based on location and some is very
different from Mekele to here. A teacher friend congratulated me for dancing
just as well to Amharic music in an Amharic way as I did with Tigrignian. While
people were dancing around in a circle men were on the inside waving tails and
flashlights around the dancers. When I asked why this was, one teacher friend
just laughed and stated, “I don’t know. It’s just our culture.”
As the smiling half
moon looked down on us, I left with Kemal and other teacher friends (Tom had
left earlier for another wedding). Although the wind was cold, the double scarf
that matched my dress kept me warm. It was tricky to walk in the dark back up,
around, and down the mountain, but nothing could keep me from smiling. Now as I
finish by tea and banana breakfast at 11:20, I realize there is another day
ahead of me full of fun and adventures. I get to finish pre-final exam grades
(accounts for 60% of students grade, final is 40%), check to see if post office
is open to send letters to American students and go have ga’at, really thick
porridge made from flour, with a teacher friend this evening. Just a little
insight into my fun-filled life that ranges from death one day to weddings the
next.
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