Tiba: wedding's eve

Upon arrival at the groom’s homestead we are ushered out of our vehicles. Men head one direction and women and children are pointed to another. I hear the men singing and chanting in the distance. I walk into a room about 400 or 500 square feet, rectangle with cement walls. In the far corner as sheet hangs to conceal a small mattress. A large cow leg, fully skinned, hangs next to the sheets. A small pile or cushions and reed mats lay on the floor.

The mama’s quickly move to the back and lay claim on the best cushions. I try to sneak out but am pulled back one of the women and instructed to sit and take one of the better cushions. I smile and do as I am told. After most are settled in, I note that there are two benches sitting adjacent to one another in the corner. Sitting on them are older men. The men take turns standing and talking. First a men from the one bench, then a man from the other. Later, I learned that each bench held senior members from the bride and groom’s side, respectively. I sit and stare at the enormous chunk of raw meat and bone hanging on the wall.

We are probably about thirty or forty people jammed into this little room. We are served bread, then tea. People chat and laugh. For the most part, people are very nice to me. Many try to engage me in conversation, and we have varying degrees of success. I still hear the singing outside and long to be in the cool fresh air surrounded by song rather than squished in this room with old women and children and a piece of cow. I try to scope out a path to make a break for it, but the room is thick with people and everywhere I look there is a body. Just as I tell one of the mama’s I am closest to that I would like to leave for some fresh air, the men come in and people turn their attention to the front of the room.

They are carrying something… well, fluffy. Ooops, make that WAS fluffy. They carefully roll out the fully skinned carcass of a sheep. It is wrapped like a baby in its former woollen outer covering. The men display it on the ground on the grounded room. Certain organs are carefully separated and placed into metal bowls beside the carcass. Some of the men remove the cow leg from the wall and exit the room. Everybody sits down, making the small room even cozier.

The older men on the bench begin to speak again. Small children who giggled in the corner are hushed. I stare wide-eyed at the hunk of cow leg, still hanging on the wall, then at the disembowelled sheep lying on the floor in front of me. The men talk, first one, then another. Then brandy is passed to everybody who chooses to partake. I chose to partake. After a couple hours of talking, eating, and drinking some of the people are starting to sleep. It is obvious now that this is the area where everybody is to spend the evening before the wedding. Now, I can understand why claiming a good spot is so important. I use it as a chance to slip away.

I walk outside and appreciate the fresh cool air. I find the men in a rondeval next to the large sleeping room. The room is filled with smoke. They are braaing meet on the coals as well as in large cast iron pots, like the ones I cleaned earlier in the day. I chat with them a bit. I ask what they are cooking and they say cow. “Oh, that’s where it went!” They offer me a bite, and I start to decline, but change my mind and graciously accept the offer. It is actually delicious. Later, I stand outside amused at myself for being in Africa eating cow leg off the wall of a room where the bride and her family sleep the day before she weds. It's late and it all feels very surreal. Finally at about 3:30am I walk to my car and hop in for a quick nap before the wedding day begins.