Tiba: the negotiation

I am with the bride’s side of the family, which, I learned, has considerable more implications than just what side to sit on during the ceremony. I also learned that the days’ events weren’t just merrymaking. That the meals cooked in the large pots I had cleaned were for special occasions. Today, the day before the wedding, was a very special day.

Those of us already at the bride’s homestead wait and wait all day. Then it became dark. And we still wait. I begin to wonder if this thing is really going to happen. Finally, two large vans carrying at least twenty people arrive, followed by several cars full of people. The two vans and a couple trucks are pulling empty trailers. It is about nine o’clock at night. It is pitch black.

People busily begin to load objects onto the trailer and hurriedly make the final preparations to leave. After a couple of hours, the trailers are loaded and I am instructed to get in my car and follow the procession that is beginning to pour down the dirt road. The procession is heading to a nearby town, about twenty five miles away. We are all travelling to the groom’s homestead.

There must be over twenty five cars and trucks in total, so to keeping everybody together requires the occasional stop to regroup. Each time the caravan stops, people rush out of the car and sing and dance wedding songs unique to the family. The jubilation was extraordinary. As additional cars caught up, more people would pour out and join the singing and dancing on the side of the two-lane highway in the middle of nowhere. Then, as abruptly as we had stopped, the first car would thrust forward and people hurriedly ran back to the vehicles from which they came. And off we went again. The drive takes over an hour.

Upon arrival, we wait outside the gate to the groom’s family homestead. I am puzzled and ask those in my car what is going on. By this time we’ve been waiting over fifteen minutes, and I’m getting tired from the anticipation. I am told that there is a negotiation that must take place between the bride’s family and the groom’s family. I say, only half sarcastically, “But the families are all aware there is a wedding tomorrow, right?”. I am told that this is a part of the process of the family members showing off their negotiation prowess. The ability to negotiate and articulate and argument well is culturally very highly regarded.

The groom’s family must be convinced to allow the bride and her posse onto their property. Of course, my snide response is that if I was the bride I would handle it within minutes, which apparently is exactly the wrong thing to do. The bride herself can not reveal herself because once the bride is found then the groom can turn away all of the bride’s family. After all, the groom only needs a bride. The rest of us are superfluous. Frustrated and confused I sit in my car and wait some more, careful not to say anything so naïve again.

Finally, at about midnight, we are allowed in to the compound. Now the fun begins…