Tiba: the ceremony

I avoid breakfast by retreating to my car. I find my toiletry bag, grab my toothbrush and toothpaste and a bottle of water. I feel much better and, remarkably, full of energy for the day. After washing my face and reapplying my make-up I head out again to try to get the scoop on what is going down today. Nobody seems to know exactly. I keep being told things like “you’ll know when the time comes”. I have no idea what that means. We wait most of the morning. Finally, I’m told to change into my dress. I pop into a room and change quickly.

Then we all walk to the ceremony, which is being held in a large yellow tent. The funny thing is that until that very moment when the ceremony started, I didn’t even consider the fact that the whole ceremony would be in Xhosa. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I was looking forward to hearing what is said during the wedding ceremony. I thought it would provide priceless insight into the value and perception of marriage and representation of family and community in Xhosa culture. And, I’m pretty sure it would have… had I been able to understand it! Sure, I picked up words here and there. And the nice gentleman next to me explained a couple things that he thought may be important, or at least amusing, to me. But the nuances I was hoping to pick up certainly were not there. Funny how, even in the most foreign of contexts, I still automatically assumed my language as the default mode of communication.

After about two and a half hours, my zeal for this cultural experience has considerably waned. The weather is terrible and the pounding rain on the tent makes it nearly impossible for me to make out any Xhosa words. A large stream of water has collected at my feet. I tuck my dress under my thighs and extend my legs so that my shoes don’t get wet. I’m tired, cold and wet. My body contorted as to avoid as much of the dripping and draining rain as possible. By this time, I’ve looked several times for people I know. They are nowhere to be seen. At first, I think maybe they are just in the back. Finally I realized that they probably ditched this gig an hour ago. I spot an escape route and make a break for it while everybody is standing and singing a song.

I find the bulk people I know sitting cosily in a warm car… drinking what is left of the brandy. Anxious for warmth, I join them.