This past weekend a colleague from work took me to see what a South African wedding is like. The wedding took place, like many of the parties that I have attended in a rural village, except that the road to this one had less pavement than the other villages I have visited. The bumpy, dirt road went for miles, and it felt as if we were entering a place that is seated in the middle of no-where. Luckily, there were signs of life in the huts that lined the road. This was the first time that I saw the thatch-roofed, rounded huts in the Villages; they are usually shaped more like western houses. My travel companion, who is originally from Zimbabwe, told me that where he is from that is all that they have, but here they have started shifting to the other forms of housing. While they were old, the craftsmanship in the thatched roofs of these huts impressed me; the straw that built these roofs was strong enough to withhold the heavy rain that we had been receiving lately in Limpopo. Their rounded shape reminded me of the famous round church that is situated in a small town in Vermont close to where I live. This round church is a popular tourist destination, and I laughed thinking what my friends here would say to that, not understanding that such a simple structure could be something of interest in the states.

The trip to the village provided one of the highlights I have had on the trip to South Africa. There are many warning signs for hippo crossings in and around Tzaneen, similar to the bright yellow deer signs that warn us Vermonters that our breaks will need to be in top-working condition. While these signs line the streets however, I have never seen a hippo, and the people of Tzaneen joke that they are a false warning because they are nowhere around. As we were riding in the car my travel partner made the same comment upon seeing the sign: “where are they?” he says “they have these signs but I never see them.” It was at that moment that I looked to my right on the side of the road, and there in the small swamp area was a family of hippos! I squealed with excitement at seeing my first exotic animal and the driver swung the car around and stopped for me to get out and take some pictures. The excitement had me jumping up-and-down as if I was a 5 year old girl running downstairs on Christmas day. The excitement continued as we sped by a monkey that was sitting on a pole by one of the orange farms and I gasped: “A monkey!” My partner laughed at the extreme excitement I showed in seeing a creature he says he saw a full field of not so many days earlier. But it was with that drive that I determined, despite the dark clouds
overhead, this was going to be a day I wouldn’t forget.

With the thoughts of hippos on my mind we finally reached the rural village where the wedding would be held. Squeezing my way into seats under the tent I was again a “celebrity” as my friends here like to say. The only white face among the crowd brought attention towards me, and away from the woman in the white dress standing at the front. I got waves from people jumping up and down so that I would see them, stares and points, handshakes, and again during the dancing in the middle of the wedding the women tried to get me to do the Tsonga dance; I knew, however, that my inability to move my waist in the traditional way would just ruin the beauty of the wedding, so I did a little move in the aisle, smiled, and walked away. The wedding as a whole was not a short, nor quiet event. The women screamed signs of praise when it was time for the man to kiss his wife, when they said their vows, and told the man that he had to lift the veil of his wife, not her made-of-honor. After the vows the bride and groom took a seat on a couch as the pastor spoke, his wife spoke, the “MC” for the wedding spoke about what was necessary for a wedding, and in between every speech a song was sung and the men and women danced around the bride and groom.

The beauty of the party and excitement however, was a bit clouded over, as the pastor spoke of what makes a “sensible wife” and that she must never question her husband, must not argue with him, and she must always be agreeable and peaceful with her husband yet there was no mention of what made a good husband. The bond that was created there at the wedding seemed to separate the negotiations and compromise that comes with all relationships, and the message was that a woman must, essentially, keep her mouth shut. This shocked me, and at home later when with Mary I asked her about this. She was as upset with this practice as me, saying they always talk about what a wife should do and never a man, it is believed that she is meant to please the husband, and therefore must take advice from any man about what she must do to do so. She told me how women advise girls that even if their husband beats them they must smile if company shows up as if nothing is wrong, they must ask permission from their husbands before they can go to bed, and when they want to turn their back from them at night, and that a man should be allowed to have sex with his wife whenever she wants without her complaints. It is these philosophies that took away from some of the beauty of the wedding for me.

However, after the preaching about a sensible woman was finished, a band was brought out to play and march around, and everyone lined up to eat the traditional pap and chicken. We left just in time for it to start raining, and upon the suggestion of other party goers to travel a different way; their suggestion was did not produce a better alternative to our path though, as we became stuck on a bumpy road that lasted for miles, and literally took us into the middle of no-where, where no houses or people were. In my mind all I could think of was the horror films where we got lost without any petrol left and the animals would attack our car. Luckily, before my imagination went too far we came across the main road, and made our way back to town with our eyes open for any more animals. We made it home with a promise of a future outing just to look for animals at one of the parks. It was an early bedtime for me that night, as my eyes heavy from the day closed in preparation for a lazy day tomorrow.