Weekend Trips Part III – Wedding in Kisumu

A few weeks ago, I bumped into the Mayor of Kisumu, Her Worship Prisca Auma Misachi, in the halls of the Kisumu Town Hall. As she often does to me, she pulled me aside rather dramatically, “Ashley, come into my office so I can whisper something into your ear,” she said to me. The Mayor is a large woman who towers over me in an intimidating fashion, and I always do what she tells me, usually scurrying after her. I expected that I had done something wrong – breached some protocol as is often typical. Instead, what she wanted was to invite me to her son’s wedding – she insisted I come actually – to be held the following weekend on Saturday 14 July. Of course, I thought, this should be fun, even though I do not know her son, or even his name.

So I spent that weekend in Kisumu, spending Friday night with some friends there, having dinner at an outdoor Indian restaurant that makes the best chicken tikka – grilled right on the side of the street. Then Saturday, after buying a wedding gift at the local grocery store (a nice glass pitcher with 4 glasses), I headed for the gardens at Tom Mboya Labor College promptly at noon, the time stated on the wedding invitation. I had been warned not to arrive then – remember, this is Africa everyone said to me – but of course, I did, thinking it better to be early than to show up late to the Mayor’s son’s wedding. Of course, everyone had been correct as the wedding did not begin until close to 2:00. Besides me, many local people from the community had also arrived early and were seated (some lying) under trees lining the edge of the open garden space where the ceremony would take place. They were not given seats. I guess they are not “official” invites, I thought.

I was surprised by how nice the arrangements were. Three large tents were set up for the guests, draped with burgundy and gold flowers and ribbons. The Mayor’s sister immediately ushered me to one of two head tables, where most of the Mayor’s other children and their friends sat. I felt a little ridiculous about that, especially since I only just learned the name of the bride and groom. I sat there and watched everyone arrive – men in their best suits, usually a little too large for them, and women in beautiful, colorful dresses and head scarves, which were also large – towering – but very regal. I wish I could dress like that without being laughed at, I thought….and why do I look especially white today…I think I’m losing pigmentation while here, but how is that possible? So I sat for two hours, watching, musing, and when possible, introducing myself to everyone who crossed my path, trying to explain who-in-the-world I was.

The choir began singing a little before 2:00 and ushered in several priests and bishops. The Mayor’s first born daughter, who now lives in Arusha, Tanzania, made all of the outfits for the bridesmaids and groomsmen, who proceeded down the aisle, just as in any wedding in the U.S., and the ceremony began. For the most part, there was nothing unusual about the ceremony other than it was the longest I had attended, at 3 hours, had more religious men than usual, with 5 priests / bishops, and was frequently punctuated by odd taped sounds of waves and birds.

It was after the official ceremony, then, when some of the fun began. A Nairobi-based rap artist called “Preacher” rapped a few songs as the wedding party walked back down the aisle. He had a small fan club which hollered from the sidelines. This must be a friend of the groom, I thought.

A traditional Luo (the tribe in Western Kenya) spiritual woman, dressed in all white, walked around with a hand broom, chanting and blessing us all as she waved the broom in our faces. Or, at least I hoped we were being blessed, she chanted in Luo so I could not understand, but am counting on it to bring good luck my way!

And the crowds appeared from everywhere, hundreds from the community, to eat. Uh oh, I thought, I’m starved and there is no way I’ll make it through that buffet line with this number of people. I walked to the back of the line, which then extended for yards, but was quickly spotted by the Mayor’s sister again, and ushered to the front – one more thing that made me slightly uncomfortable. I did bring a gift though, I thought. There was a huge amount of food – grilled goat, all kinds of stews, chicken cooked every which way, fried Tilapia, fried Nile Perch fish heads, ugali (maize meal), potatoes cooked 100 different ways, spinach, chilis, plantains, beans, bread and so much more. I piled my plate high and walked back to the table. A band was playing but no one seemed to pay much attention for all the eating. At this point, it was almost dark and it seemed a storm was about to roll in. The Mayor and other local politicians made the rounds to greet everyone, some of the wedding party gave a few speeches, and the bride and groom cut the cake.

Just before the storm arrived and, with it, the usual Kisumu electricity black-out, the bride and groom were presented with a goat. It looked alive to me, from where I sat, with a cute, furry, baby goat head. I walked up to get a closer look and take a picture. But its body looks a little odd, I thought, as I approached…oh, it has been skinned! And covered in little slices of carrots and peppers. I jumped back as it moved in the wind, the green leaves hanging from its mouth flapped about. Unsure still, is it alive or dead, I asked the men around me, who laughed? Dead. Body skinned and fried. Head left intact. Traditional Luo wedding gift. My pitcher and glasses seeming not too special now, I thought.

The bride and groom then cut the goat and brought pieces to the head tables to feed their family members. Time to go, I thought, as the bride headed my way with some fried baby goat bits. She eyed me and I could tell, was still not certain who-in-the-world I was. Uh, no thanks, I stammered, I am so full, ahhh, and not really family either, but am honored all the same! I then excused myself, said good-bye and thanks to the Mayor, and headed back to the hotel before the storm hit, having thoroughly enjoyed myself at this wedding in Kisumu.

(Pictured: the bride and groom; me and the mayor; Luo spiritual woman blessing my table; the goat gift)