Another wedding

The DRC has managed to make the question of getting married into an elaborate ritual that is so expensive you have to postpone it until you are nearly dead. For example, in the case of the first wedding we attended the bride had five children. The second one had three.

The required ritual follows this sequence: wedding 1: traditional; wedding 2: civil; wedding 3: church, wedding 4: party. These are sometimes conducted over a period of weeks or months, if not years – depending on the finances of the couple concerned.

This time we’re invited to wedding 3 – except that it wasn’t in church, it was called a “benediction” and it was in someone’s garden. Interestingly enough the ritual of the vows, the exchange of rings, and the biblical readings were in a form that would be completely familiar to British ears.

The absurdity of the event was that the service and the sermon talked about marriage as if the happy couple were about to have carnal knowledge for the first time that night, and were entering into a completely new commitment, while the couple’s three children were playing around their mother’s ankles. Following the fiction that this was the first time that they would share their lives, the priest gave them a lecture about love and responsibility.

But, of course, he had to add an admonition to the bride to bring up their three children well. Since no self-respecting priest can forgo a little homily about the role of the sexes, he went on to explain that the husband’s job is to be the master of the household, and look after his wife; while the wife’s is to look after the children, have more of them (what respectable family has only got three?), clean the house and cook for him. Apart from the principle of the thing, this gender stereotyping seemed pretty silly in light of the fact that she’s the careerist, and is much brighter than he is, but we held our tongue and smiled sweetly. Anyway, you get that everywhere in Africa.

What was particularly remarkable about this wedding was the time keeping. The invitation said the ceremony would start at 3 p.m. but when we arrived on the dot they were still putting up the marquees. Then there were the chairs to put out, and the food for the reception afterwards etc etc. Eventually it started at 4.30. But though us time-obsessed creatures from the North were privately tut-tutting about it, (while trying to be desperately polite and not show any distress) no one else seemed to mind in the least.

Later the same evening was Wedding 4 – the party – to be held at one of the international hotels. The invitation said it would start at 8.00. After our experience with wedding 3, we asked the bride what time she thought wedding 4 would really start. She said, with a knowing look, suggesting that we Congolese are not very good at time, that it would probably be about 8.30. So we arrived at 8.45. Nothing doing. Not even the room was ready by then.

By about 9.30 we were allowed into the room. Our hearts sank as we noticed that the centerpiece of the party was a sit-down dinner – not at all the casual drinks that we had expected. By 10.00 only about half the seats were occupied. When dinner finally started at 10.30 most seats were occupied, but it was not until midnight that the party really started. The bride had meanwhile changed into a different dress so that dancing would be easier, the music warmed up and the married couple started proceedings with a solemn solo, with everyone staring. It ended in a big kiss at which everyone shouted for joy and clapped.

Then they started a dance in which they were the centre-piece while other people did a sort of conga shuffle around them. They were mimicking the sex act and everyone was urging them to do so with maximum enthusiasm. After that people joined in enthusiastically and before long the little dance floor was packed.

The interesting fact is the degree to which the “white wedding” model has become the norm. Another sad example of globalization – what a pity! But no, I’m wrong. This was definitely different – the world has not standardized on being two and a half hours late.