It feels as though every weekend there is some festivity in the Casamance. Whether it be a gathering at a small hall with a DJ, or a big group get-together, or a holiday of some form, there is generally something going on or being planned. Ludo and I knew that we did not want to miss the wedding of our friend Cher. Cher had come to the boat a couple times and we were becoming good friends. We were excited when he invited us to his wedding and eager to experience what a Djola wedding was like. So we biked back from our test trip to the village of Mlomp and promptly found ourselves a boat that was leaving for Kachouian.
Weddings here are a three-day affair, and when I say three days, I mean three days and nights. I mean a full 72 hours of celebration! Even before the event started there were activities in preparation; just getting the people to the remote village of Kachouian had an air of a party. The village pirogue, a 14-meter sleek brightly painted “canoe,” captained by “Original” transports up to 40 souls for the ten-mile ride from Elinkin. After clambering over another boat to board the pirogue, I noticed it was already festive and noisy. The men, women, and children tightrope their way via gunwales and bulkheads throughout their journey to and through the enormous canoe; the entire time one can't help but notice the grinning teeth and giggles.
After the necessary formalities with the police for every arrival and departure from Elinkin, we skimmed across the river for about 20 minutes to our destination. On arrival at the beach, there is a human train resembling an army of ants who just found a pile of sugar. Back and forth from the pirogue to the beach, we observe women on men's shoulders to protect their colorful flowing dresses from getting wet, suitcases and personal belongings, babies, 50lb bags of rice and onions, flats of juice and soda, gallons of cooking oil, vinegar, and all the basic essentials for feeding a group of two hundred people. Smiles, laughs, cheers, and shouting blend with the singing birds, rustling breeze, and gurgling waters of the Casamance.
Another procession takes place the second night of the event. At about 3 in the morning the entire wedding party was about one kilometer away at a house on the outskirts of the village. There was a low murmur in the crowd of people who were lounging in the dark night. Seemingly out of nowhere, a group of djembes, rattles, metallic bells, and even a saxophone started blaring their rhythms. There was a song chanted in Djola as well, the lyrics of which referred to the bride's final moments of solidarity.
The procession takes a grand total of three hours with people jigging forward with the beat at about a meter a minute. The night air is filled with songs, instruments, camera flashes, and laughter as the veiled bride whose face has yet to be seen by anyone, makes her way to her future partner.
A wedding of this size, in the states, would cost around 30k for a one-day celebration, if you are lucky. Here, I would tend to bet it costs no more than 5k for 200 people for a full 72 hours. The interesting aspect to me, is that the ultimate differences between here and there are not all that great. Sure, there's a difference in aspects of the ceremony and the women who take turns with the tasks, seem to be eternally slaving over a cutting board, cooking fire, or wash bucket. The DJ is a family member, the hotels are replaced for friend’s houses, spare bedrooms, floor space, and tents, and the alcohol consumption is set at a minimum for this Muslim-influenced marriage. Nonetheless it is a celebration where there are groups of different families spread throughout the mango tree backyard orchard. Everyone is dancing, chatting, and enjoying themselves; there is an underlying tone of joy and exuberance.
I will keep reiterating the major difference I find here compared to the West. The people have time.
I imagine that if all of the ceremonial pieces of the “marriage” were organized and set to the tempo of the Western world, the event could take one day, but here, each phase of the ceremonial process is “cushioned” by hours of sitting around, chatting, dozing, or going for a dip.
There is no urgency to “get it over with.” People do not necessarily have to get back to work, plus it wasn't really a straightforward mission to get here. So, they spend their time WITH each other. To the untrained eye, they spend their time doing nothing, but I've experienced enough of this “sitting around” to know that there is a bit more to it than that.
The ceremony of marriage here seems to me to be much more than just the joining of man and wife. Those two lucky souls actually didn't even seem to be the “center of attention” they are a side act, a reason to come together for sure, but their partnership had already been sealed.
This 72 hours seemed to be more of a period of networking, connecting, and bonding for the families and friends at large.
The “blank” spaces between the ceremonial affairs of the Muslim and Djola tradition were the periods where new friendships, connections, and partnerships were born. Time spent, mixed with a lubricant of dancing and singing, a bit of fatigue, and a bit of food from the same bowl creates a playful social atmosphere. Anyone is welcome in any circle to sit, talk, and exchange.
It takes time, more than anything else, to connect. In a 72 hour period there is enough time to talk, disagree, let it go, come back to it, find middle ground, and become friends. There is enough opportunity to see people in different states of being: tired, hungry, joyous, relaxed, etc. to learn the basic drivers of a person. One truly gets to know the other 199 people. There is, by the end, a familiar sense with everyone. We ALL become part of this union that started with two people.
Isn't that what the ceremony of marriage should be about? A joining, not only of two people, but of the group that supports each individual? To me, the wedding, the start of another chapter for a bloodline, is more about the families and friends, than it is about the two lovers. It's more about cooking good food with each other, chatting under a tree, dancing, suffering, or more poetically: living together for a bit. The wedding is a trade-wind for new relationships, a reason to lift the sails and see where the wind takes them.
I know I haven't shared much about the ceremonial process here, but for me, it's not so much about the specific cultures traditions, as it is about the inner feeling and meaning of the union for the people here. I'm also no anthropologist. I would do the culture no justice trying to explain all the intricacies or reasons behind the acts performed throughout the three days. What I can share, is that I saw new bonds formed, new friendships made, and new opportunities realized over the course of this relatively short period of time. I hope that someday in the future, when I find the woman of my dreams, I can share a marathon of a wedding with all of you. There will likely be some subtle Djola influences, like a bit of wrestling between families or dancing in a circle under a tree. For now though, you will have to settle with my words, and a video that is coming out for paid subscribers in the coming weeks.
Until we share the next horizon.
Tim
PS: Thank you all for following along. I wanted to give you a small update on my plans as, of course, they have changed a bit. I will no longer be going on a big biking trip with Ludo. WE have decided instead to settle into Kachouian for a few more months. We have been developing a passive solar dehydrator that we hope to use to dry mangoes for this season, which is currently underway. We also hope to build some for the village and nearby communities. It will be a process of trial and error during rainy season, but we think it is possible. There has been excellent reception for the idea from the people here. So, there's a chance I will be breaking out the carpentry kit, and getting physical for the next few months in a way a bit different from biking. I will write a whole article on the dehydrator once we work out the kinks. Your paid subscriptions are going directly towards this mission at the moment. I am in a sense taking a gamble that this passive system works in a high humidity environment. But the relatively small cost ($100 for materials) for the beta version seems worth it to me. Especially since it means opening up another way to preserve food for the people here that lack a surplus of refrigerators.
Probably less likely to get divorced after a ceremony that long too. Makes a stronger impression maybe?