Mystery Meeting

I'm all done ranting and raving now.  I probably seem a bit bipolar seeing how my last post (just 12 minutes ago) was anything but positive, but this blogging thing is quite theraputic!  But more than that, for those who are living vicariously through my Peace Corps experience, I would like to share a story about my time at a "mystery meeting" before I forget everything that happened.  So here it goes...

So I'm in my room trying desperately to have some alone time and my mama comes and knocks on my door...yet again...and says, "Dah-meh-tree-ahhh! Turagenda!!"  (let's go).  I don't even bother to ask where, I just put on my shoes and get ready for God knows what.  So as we're walking along on our far away journey, me and my mama are stopping to talk to what seems like every single person we pass.  Finally we arrived at whatever it was she was taking me too and as soon as we walked up, I noticed a living room and front yard full of small benches and people sitting everywhere.  I immediately noticed that the mood was a bit somber.  As I sat on a bench out in the front yard, I peered through the front door and noticed some people sitting on a couch, looking worn out and tired, and a woman who looked as if she had been crying.  Shortly after our arrival, some people started serving Fanta's and some anonymous drink in jerry cans with straws sticking out of the top (apparently the latter were to be shared because everyone began to take sips from the jerry can's and pass them around).  I prayed to God that no one would ask me to sip from that same straw and same jerry can that everyone else had drank out of, and just when I thought I was in the clear, the man next to me gestures for me to take a sip.  Let me say that I am not one to offend, and I have been pretty good about it so far, but this was one moment that I was just going to have to be considered rude.  I smiled politely and said, "No thank you."  He kind of just shrugged and passed the can in the opposite direction...whew *wipes sweat from forehead* it ended up not being that big of a deal.

After all of the guests of the great mystery event had either a Fanta bottle or a jerry can in hand, the same people who were passing out Fanta's began to pass out plates of food, and again, I didn't want to offend so although me and my mama had just eaten lunch and I was beyond stuffed, I took a plate and did my best to make the large and small pieces of food on my plate disappear.  Once I finished up, along with everyone else, someone stood up and began what seemed like a speech.  And then a man and woman stood up together and smiled at the crowd...and then I realized...this isn't a funeral, it's a

wedding! I then found the ability to put together a sentence to ask my mom what was going on...she told me it was a post wedding ceremony and that the couple got married last week.  Finally gaining an understanding of what was going on, I was able to relax a bit and kind of enjoy the ceremony (mind you, I still didn't want to be there, but I did my best to make the most of it).  So here is what happened.  Two men kept going back and forth giving speeches (I'm assuming these were the fathers of the bride and groom), and then shortly after all of the talking, the newly-weds were presented with gifts...two hoes, a machete, and a mini hoe...and then they went outside to hoe together for the first time.  Next, everyone came back in and then went back outside to ooh and ahh at some more gifts...a cow and a sheep (is one sheep still sheep?? lol).  Next up, everyone came back in to listen to some more speeches and once these were finished, several of the older guests lined up with baskets full of something and handed them to the newly married woman.  Upon the opening of each basket, I realized they were filled with gifts of all types of beans and one was filled with rice.  After all of the gifts were given, the speeches were finished, and the dancing and singing stopped (we had the old women to thank for the music and dancing, the elders here really know how to party!), the couple went outside to their car and left us all to continue the celebration without them.  And this is when the real party started...and I do mean party.  Bottles started popping (beer bottles that is) and everyone had their hand out for one.  They tried to give me one, but thankfully my mom stepped in and said that a Fanta would do just fine for her little girl (I love that lady).  At this point, I was really REALLY ready to go...I have heard too many horror stories during my culture trainings about Rwandans and their tendencies to get drunk and act foolish.  The room was stuffy and smelled like stale beer and as my face cannot keep a secret, I'm sure the disgust was written all over my face..I say this because as soon as my mother caught a glimpse of me, she grabbed my hand, stood up and said, "Let's go."  I sent up a silent thank you prayer to God, hopped to my feet and headed for the door.  And just as I was leaving, I saw a mama take her beer bottle, put it up to her 4 (or 5) year old sons lips and tip it all the way up...I just shook my head and kept it pushing.  Poor kid...

Love and Peace Corps,

Dametreea