Ladies of the tar

If anyone thinks that the ritual of wedding photos is at times too much, think again. If it is just a few posed photos after the ceremony, with, maybe a few extra of the happy couple in the garden, you’re getting away lightly.

In Kinshasa that would be laughable. Of course no one could pretend that conditions here are the same. Remembering that many people live in cramped dwellings and grotty neighbourhoods where greenery is rare and even the churches are in densely packed streets, it is not surprising that they would look elsewhere for their photos. What is more, churches cannot actually marry people: that is a civic matter. So you must have a civil wedding first, followed by the religious wedding (if you’re so inclined) and in many cases a traditional wedding undertaken in the home village. Quite a process.

Finding a nice spot for the photos is not as easy as you might think. They have to find a setting that speaks of style and wealth. For us who are lucky enough to live in an area of broad avenues, grand trees and few buildings should we be surprised that they choose our area for wedding photos?

The logistics are complex: the traffic congestion and the distances between the Commune where they must hold the civil ceremony, the church and our neighbourhood means that there simply isn’t time to have the wedding and photos on the same day. Just taking the photos is an exercise not to be undertaken lightly. There’s transport for the bride and groom, their bridesmaids and the photographer, not to mention families. It all takes time, a lot of it. So, there’s no time on Saturdays for the photos, and Friday is the day.

There are three favourite spots. One is in the forecourt of the Grand Hotel conveying the unmistakable message that these are people of substance who can afford to patronise the flashy establishment. Another venue is a grand processional way, dignified with bronze statues, modern street lights, and (non-functional) fountains. The median, nicely paved, offers lots of opportunities for a pretty picture. On Friday afternoons we see many different wedding groups and their photographers jostling for position. The bridesmaids stand around in brightly coloured dresses, gossiping, while the bride, looking very self conscious, kicks her heels while the photographer lines up another shot. These are not amateur shots: the photographers fuss around with their tripods, lights and reflective umbrellas, so the whole process takes time . . .

Back to the location for the shots: the hotel and the processional way are such common choices that discerning couples look for a different location, and what better than the relatively narrow, heavily treed, lightly trafficked, Avenue Roi Baudouin, the location of the Swedish, British and German embassies, not to mention the residence of the US Ambassador? I often come across couples (accompanied of course by their bridesmaids and photographer) who take over the whole road and pose in the centre as if to suggest that the road leads directly to their palace. One pose, which seemed to be particularly brave, had the bride squatting on the ground with her dress artfully spread around her and her man standing over her in a protective stance.

Other poses are more risqué. It’s not unusual to have the man carrying the bride, as if about to take her over the threshold of their new home, or in Hollywood clinches and kisses. Not a few brides choose to have their children included in the photos: there’s no stigma having babies before marriage as everyone knows that weddings are VERY expensive, so it’s only natural that you have babies first so that you can give yourself time to save up for the wedding to remember.

But whatever the pose and wherever it is, the ritual certainly enlivens the scene on Friday afternoons. It’s fun for us, probably much more than for the harried couple.