When two cultures collide

Last night I had the honour of being a part of a unique wedding here in Uganda. It was between a man from Arua (West Nile) and a woman from Kampala (Buganda). He is Muslim and she is Christian. Their wedding was here at Peace For All International headquarters (my home) because no one would let them have it at their establishment being a scandalous mix of religions and cultures. People in Kampala think the people of Arua are barbaric and backwards; people in Arua think people in Kampala are money grubbing and cold. His family insisted the wedding be Muslim and local; her family refused to participate (apart from her sister) because she was having a Muslim wedding in a rural setting (sign of poverty). The only Muslim cleric who would officiate changed his mind at the last minute unless concessions were made.

For the couple, they love each other so they didn’t care what people thought. They were getting married last night come what may. And they did. My Canadian colleague was the best man (he had met the groom twice which was once more than the rest of us so he got the honour). A friend was the single bridesmaid. All of us foreign volunteers were the “special guests from Canada” giving the couple from serious bonus points in the community.

As is customary in Uganda, you must greet everyone in room by shaking hands. At a wedding, it can certainly take some time. A hundred handshakes by one hundred people…I think I was still shaking hands hours later.

What’s interesting here in Uganda is the level of participation at weddings (or any event really). If music is played, even if it is someone singing a solo, people get up and join in. Dancing is infectious, and women trill their voices in happy support. Clapping and finding the beat happens even over someone’s voice. Seriously, everything is participatory. I love it.

After many hours of speeches and other formalities, the party began. The wedding was dry, being a Muslim wedding, but there was still ample dancing and drumming and singing and shouting. One fun part was the gift giving section. When your clan’s name is called, the band sings a special song for you and you dance around the donation bowl dropping in money as you go (I now think if churches/temples/places of whorship did this there would be far more donations). When it was time for the “special invited guests” a few of the locals joined in to help make sure our hips were shaking enough or that the women in our group would pass the trill part of the dance. It was hilarious.

Fortunately the evening was cool (by Ugandan standards) because the dancing went late into the evening. I had to cut out early because us “foreign guests” had just come from three days of almost no sleep as we toured Murchison Falls National Park watching animals (an amazing trip that I will write about hopefully in a few days). I must have been tired because I not only slept through the blaring music outside my door, but also the audio book I am listening to (A Brief History of Nearly Everything) – when I woke up a few hours later, the music was long over and the book had read through 7 chapters.

When I climbed out of my hut this morning, people were sleeping on mats all over the compound. I guess a good time was had by all, even without alcohol, which is certainly great to see.