Organized Chaos and Community Involvement: An Ethiopian Wedding

In my lifetime I have attended 14 weddings, 4 in America and 10 in Ethiopia. If you look purely at the numbers you would probably expect me to know a lot more about the goings on in Ethiopian weddings and knowing what to expect. In reality though, I am still much more informed about weddings in America. Although I have only personally attended 4, I have movies, TV shows, and lots of stories and pictures from others to relate to how a wedding is conducted and what is expected. In Ethiopia however, it is a much different story. The only examples I have are the ones I have gone to, and even then I am never entirely sure what is going on.

This past weekend the girl that lives in my compound, one of my landlady’s daughters got married. I just learned she was getting married about a month ago, but after I heard about it, that’s been all that’s happened in my compound. My landlady invited all of my Peace Corps friends who visited my compound in the last month, which meant Jessie, Ally, Jimi, and Sylvia were all extended an invitation.

In America wedding invitations are printed, a wedding guest list is carefully prepared, generally with numbers being counted, especially if the wedding is at a place where individual place settings are prepared. Most weddings there is only a certain number and type of people, family and friends of the bride and groom, invited. In Ethiopia however, the entire community is invited with invitations being printed and passed out to most everyone, some people not even receiving formal invitations. The week before the wedding invitations were passed out in my teachers lounge and I didn’t realize they were for the wedding in my compound, so I was hurt at first because I thought I was being left out of a wedding all the other teachers were being invited to, but then I realized it was Mahlet’s wedding, and I didn’t feel bad anymore, because I didn’t need an invitation.

Food and drink is prepared so that no matter how many people walk into the tent, they have enough for everyone, including the beggars that occasionally stop by to receive a plate of food. Jessie’s family had many different animals slaughtered, and they didn’t serve as much meat as mine did. I’m not sure how many cows, goats, sheep, and chickens were bought slaughtered, but I am guessing it was quite a few and therefore quite a bit of money. Cows are not cheap animals here, with sheep, goats, and chickens being more common.

            In America there are generally other people besides just the bride and grooms family and friends involved in the planning and execution of the wedding. Whether they hire a wedding planner, a caterer, or a wedding venue, there are people to help plan, set up, cook, serve, and take down the wedding. In Ethiopia the community is relied upon to do all of that. It is a great showing of one of the many things I admire about this country. Not only is the extended family involved in the wedding itself, but the extended family, friends, neighbors, and sometimes it seems random people, are all brought in to set up, cook, serve, and clean up afterwards.

            Jessie’s compound family had a wedding 2 weekends before mine, so I was hearing some of what went on from her. She lives at the grooms’ house and I live at the brides’, which means that different preparations and ceremonies are set up at them. From what we gathered and observed, much more happens at the brides house before the wedding, where as much more happens at the grooms house after the wedding. This means that the week and a half before the wedding took place I had people streaming in and out of my compound, with occasional compound guests, from around 6am to late after I went to sleep. They were all introduced as family, although Ethiopians introduce everyone as brothers and sisters, so I’m not entirely sure how many people I actually met the past month were family, and how they are related.

            The Thursday a week before the wedding I was invited out of my room at about 9 to the other part of my compound to listen to music, dance with my compound family, drink coffee and then Ouzo (disgusting alcohol that they seem to love, they take it as shots and put it in tea and coffee), and keep other girls from my compound company as they broke up burned injira to make sewa. I finally excused myself at about 10:30 to go to bed, although the music was still pumping. That was the beginning of the preparation for the sewa and food. It was relatively quiet the next few days, except for when a cinderblock wall and tarp was put up in my compound as a sewa house to make and store all the sewa (the only drink served at the wedding). That is, until Thursday (3 days before the wedding) when I woke up at 5:45am to men’s voices, walked outside my room, and saw the massive amounts of men in the other part of my compound putting up giant logs to make a tent of sorts.

            I left my compound to teach, and when I came back the same types of beams were not only in the open space across the wall from my room, but also in the entrance way to my compound and there was a tarp tied on top to make a tent, much like the one Luke made for Rory’s going away party in “Gilmore Girls.” I entered my compound to find a massive amount of women chopping onions, potatoes, and carrots. Onion chopping parties are a very common thing here, as all Ethiopian food dishes require them, and so we don’t really count your Ethiopian Peace Corps service as complete without having “attended one” aka, helped chop onions. I did not have class Friday as my schools finals started, so much like Thursday I left my compound to get Internet with many people in my compound already, hanging out, drinking buna, talking, and working to prepare. Jessie came in Friday, so we arrived back at my house to even more women than when I left. When we arrived back in my compound Rahwa a girl who lives next to me braided Jessies and mine hair back “habasha style”. Some girls here get intricate braid designs, however with our hair not really made to braid, she just did corn rows back. The first half of her hair took an hour, because her hair is so long and Rahwa was doing fairly small braids, but she did bigger ones of the other side of her hair, so it went quicker. My entire head took less than an hour, although her hands were probably exhausted. We listened to my “Let’s Jam” iTunes playlist which is basically upbeat rap and pop songs with good beats, and we jammed out with my door and window open with Ethiopians occasionally popping in to see how the firenji hair was going.

            Saturday I was not in my compound for much of the day, because Ally, Jessie, and I were having “firenji” time, but when we came back in the afternoon it seemed like a bee hive, full of noise and buzzing around, as every person had their role and they knew exactly what they were supposed to do, without being told or asked. Many more members of their family were staying with us at this point, although I’m still unclear how many siblings my land family actually has. I am certain however that I have now met more of their family than I ever have of my own back in America. I’m convinced Ethiopians rarely sleep anyways, but with the intensity of the wedding on Sunday, I don’t think they slept at all Saturday night. I went to bed fairly late (we started watching a new TV show), and they were still busy as bees at 11pm, and were up Sunday morning before dawn.

            Sunday morning I was not sure what to expect. The invitation said that the wedding started at 6 (their time) or noon (our time), but I knew from experience that that’s a very tentative time. Jessie, Ally, and I got dressed around 10:30 and got ready. Jessie and I had gotten our hair braided “habasha style” Friday by Rahwa, a girl in my compound, and we had our new gold traditional dresses we bought the weekend before with my landlady. Ally had on jeans and her hair was not done in braids, but she did wear an Ethiopian shawl. I put in my contacts for the first time at site, and put on makeup for only the 3^rd or 4^th time in service. I was expecting people to say something, because I look different without my glasses, but no Ethiopians commented. We were called out to food at around noon by one of the compound sisters, and so we were served fir fir, dinish wat, and a few different kinds of meat all with massive amounts of burbery, and instructed to sit down on a bench in the wedding tent. We were some of the first people there and the only women for quite a while. Luckily soon other women started trickling in. The music from a live band started playing and soon the women were up dancing in a circle, which is a regular occurrence at any gathering with more than 3 or 4 Ethiopians.

            At one point Jessie, Ally, and I were all pulled up to dance in the circle and I am fairly certain we are now on at least 50 men’s’ and boy’s camera phones. The thing about Tigrinya music and dancing is that the songs tend to all sound the same and they go on for a very long time. The dancing is all the same as well, with their shoulders moving in what looks like a simple way, but is actually extremely difficult. I cannot seem to move them back and forth like the Ethiopians, and so I tend to make a fool of myself. But, they love that I’m trying and laugh with me when I laugh at myself (actually, they are probably laughing at me, but I like to convince myself otherwise).

            We continued to sit there and people watch as more people came in and out. Another difference between American weddings and Ethiopian weddings—at American weddings there is a start type and at most weddings, ending time and you come at the beginning and generally stay for the whole time. In Ethiopia, you show up, eat, maybe stay and socialize, drink a cup of sewa or 2, and then leave. It is rare to stay for the whole thing, probably because it takes so long, you might not be that close to the bride and groom or family, and you are taking up room that could be used by someone else, since so many people are invited and need to be seated and fed.

            After awhile the groom arrived with the bridesmaids and grooms men. They came from the groom’s house celebration. I don’t know what goes on there. The groom was “escorted in” and cheered on along with the wedding party by some of the community members and family. It is like a parade around the tent as he is presented by his family and friends. Following him was the suitcases given as gifts to the bride by his family, open for all the guests to see what is being exchanged. This is a tradition, even among “modern Ethiopians”. Later in the ceremony more gifts and money between families were exchanged in front of the wedding guests and party by a priest.

After this presentation, I was called into my part of the compound to cheer with the family and close friends as the bride and groom made their procession from the bride’s house to the wedding tent. She came into her house to freshen up while the groom was being presented. Mahlet (the bride) looked absolutely beautiful in her princess dress, and her groom looked hip and handsome in his tux and Ray-Ban sunglasses. They had a parade again of themselves and her family to the main tent (through a doorway). They were seated on a platform along with their wedding party of tuxes and yellow bridesmaids dresses.

            At this point more food was brought out for the wedding party to eat and then some of the guests who were sitting in front. I was told to get food, and although I didn’t feel comfortable being pushed in front of others because I was the “firenji” (I lost my seat by Ally and Jessie when I went to join the family, so they were sitting separately), by the time I got up to the food it was all gone, which I felt relieved about to not have to be pressured to take food I didn’t want. However, I was asked if I like meat. When I said yes, a few men proceeded to give me a plate with 2 huge chicken breasts soaked in burbery and I ate them to be polite (they were very good and reminded me a little bit of home).

            At this point I had sat in about 4 different places in the tent, having been called to one place or another and losing my seat every time I tried to come back to sit. I was asked to move again as they were setting up the cake and fireworks, yup you read that correct. Jessie and Ally were tired and left to go take a walk and relax in my room. I felt obligated to stay longer though, since it was my compound wedding so I sat next to a couple from Mekele and talked with them for awhile, until I was asked to move. The bride and groom and bridal party got up and stood behind the cake. Much like an American wedding, there was a cutting of the cake and they fed a bite to each other with guests looking on. They also drank champagne and one of the groomsmen sprayed a bottle of champagne on the guests, another tradition that seems to be shared with America.

            They then lit sparklers that the bridal party held as a song played. That is harmless enough, however they also put what seemed to be almost firecrackers in front of the cake, and when they were lit and went off sparks spread far in the enclosed tent, hitting people especially the kids who were in front to see. In America that would be against about 30 fire codes, but here there is no such thing and luckily no one got hurt. The entire thing was being filmed by a professional photo and video crew, who ruined quite a few of my photos by having giant lights and video cameras in front of the bride and groom for most of the evening.

            In America there are a few traditional dances, mainly a “first dance” by the bride and groom, and a father-daughter dance, which is started by the bride and her father. Here however, their “first dance” is to a Tigrinya song where they dance like all the others with their bridal party. At this point I was exhausted, my phone was out of space with the amount of photos and videos I had taken, and it seemed like the party was winding down, so I excused myself to go back to my room. The bride and groom and bridal party stayed for a dance or two more, but then they left to go back to the groom’s house.

            Jessie was at the groom’s house for her wedding, so the music and party lasted until late in the evening/early in the morning (however you want to look at it). However, because I was at the bride’s house, the party itself was over by 8 or 9, luckily. The work to clean up started that evening and is still continuing days later.

            As I got to observe this wedding from the beginning to the end and I got to see the “behind the scenes” as well as observe as a guest, I have really come to appreciate how much work goes into these events and I’m a little impressed they run at all, because I’m so used to the organization that goes on in America. Here, everyone has a job, everyone has a role, everyone knows what it is, yet it doesn’t seem to be clearly communicated, it’s just known. Boys who I have never seen before pick up plates of food eaten, bring around extra injira, and bring around knitting soaked in water to wash hands. Men bring around sewa cups and pots to serve and fill up cups even if they are mostly full. Women serve food at banquet/potluck style tables when you first walk into the tent. The musicians play music for people to dance. The family and close family friends tend to stay in the back and the other side of the compound, eating, making sure things run in a semi-timely manner and greeting people as they walk in.

            Some guests wore jeans and high heel shoes (those are the “Addis” or “Mekele” people as we call them, those who look high fashioned and have an air that they are from a bigger city in Ethiopia), some wore skirts or less traditional dresses with shawls, and yet others wore nice, traditional dresses. Some were dresses you could they wear every day, where as others looked like they are pulled out for special occasions. My landladies and the rest of their family were dressed up very nicely in matching white traditional dresses with gold and red trimmings and big gold jewelry traditionally worn to show wealth. The men were dressed in tuxes and bowties, and the 2 little nieces were dressed in adorable white dresses that were like flower girls (they would have played that role had we been in America). Their hair was done in the Tigrinya bumps, although they had 7, which is only done for very special events (the “normal” is 3 or 4). It was an interesting mix of attendees, from the elders in the community, to teachers (my landlady is the librarian at my school), to the entire neighborhood, to the bride and grooms friends from Addis, Mekele, and Axum. Ally, Jessie, and I were also there, which tripled the “firenji count” from a normal wedding.

            Even though the wedding was on Sunday, the celebrations and gatherings comtinue. I went to Jessie’s site on Monday morning and got back today (I’m writing this Wednesday), and most of their family is still in my compound, and I had a hard time walking to my door earlier because the plates, cups, and tubs used for the wedding were all still in my compound. I am not sure where the bride and groom stay after the wedding and for how long (although in Jessie’s wedding the bride and groom are at Jessie’s compound, which is the groom’s family’s house). Mahlet is apparently going to Bahar Dar for their “honeymoon”. As I am writing this, there is currently another “onion chopping party” going on outside my door and I can hear chickens being killed, yet it’s 9pm the Wednesday after the wedding. The family of the bride is still staying at my house, and I am not really sure when they will head back to their own houses. So maybe the bride has another party this weekend.

            Although this wedding, and the others I have attended in Ethiopia are very different, I do enjoy them. Dancing Ethiopian style can be exhausting, I have a hard time when I have to sit next to men who are too drunk to even talk in proper Tigrinya, there can be so much food and sewa, it can be difficult when the Ethiopians expect you to know what to do, and it can get very claustrophobic, I still love to attend weddings. This one was a special one for me because my land family has become my surrogate family over here. They introduce me as their daughter when we go places, they are always there to give me buna, food, or a smile, they help me buy things at market, and they make sure I’m alright when I’m tired or sick. Mahlet is like my sister here and seeing her married to whom I hope is a great man was emotional for me. I was included as part of the family on this day, and I am forever grateful to them for everything they do for me every day here.

            I sometimes have difficult days in my service, this came at the end of the semester when I was fed up with the Ethiopian school system and was feeling extremely homesick, and the preparation for the celebration exhausted me just watching it and constantly having people in my compound, even though I didn’t do much. But seeing how the community and their family came together to prepare the food, the venue, and then serve the food, make sure it ran smoothly, and everything else I wasn’t even aware of is a prime example of how community based this culture is. Everyone has a role that they play, everyone knows what theirs is, and they do it willingly and with a smile, to help the person next to them.

            Sometimes we aren’t always told what is going on or why it is. As Volunteers our community doesn’t always realize they have to explain ceremonies or celebrations, traditions or cultural rules and expectations. We generally have to figure them out on our own. This wedding was no different, with lots of things happening I still don’t understand, and my role not explained. What I do know is that no matter what the wedding looked like, no matter how different it was from the comfort of an American wedding, it’s still celebrating love, commitment, and community, even if from the outside it looks much different.

The Kindness of Christmas

As I sit under a fuzzy blanket drinking a Starbucks peppermint mocha (it’s not the real thing, but it will do for over here) I am still nursing a pretty full stomach from yesterday’s Ethiopian Christmas festivities. I was expecting my year to be like last year, starting with sewa and dulat (intestines) at 8am. I was pleasantly surprised however, when that was not the case. I had a relaxing morning alone in my room and was beginning to worry that I would not in fact be fed at all (something that just doesn’t happen here). Alas though, my worry was premature, as around 9:30 I was called out of my room by the familiar “Kelsey, migbee mees buna” (Kelsey, food and coffee) voice of my landladies.

As I walked into their living room I was greeted by my landladies in all their smiles and kindness and my landladies son, visiting from a near by town in his surfboard style shorts, slogan style t-shirt, and flip flops. He looked like he could have walked off a California beach, and that made me smile for a reason I couldn’t explain to the Ethiopians around me. I was handed a plate of meat for breakfast and then quickly handed popcorn when my plate was clean. This year my land family put in more burbery (the seasoning most common here—not the high retail clothing brand). In case you were wondering, there is nothing more effective to clearing sinuses than a plate with a lot of burbery. Of course, breakfast was followed by a buna ceremony of 3 cups of coffee, however that is the norm for every day, not just holidays.

We talked for awhile about my teaching and students, how I am going to pay a compound girl to clean my house and laundry this weekend (this is only my 2^nd time in country to do this, but I’m getting desperate), but mainly about the wedding coming up. My landladies’ daughter, who I consider my sister, is getting married in 2 weekends and preparations have been happening in my compound for a month already. My land family has invited basically every PCV who has come by my compound and Jessie and I are planning to buy new traditional dresses for it. I was informed yesterday that I would be getting my hair done “special”… So I have a suspicion I might actually be in the wedding and just not know it yet. That conversation was halted however when neighbors started to knock on the gate to greet my family and wish them a “Sibuk Lidet” or a “Merry Christmas”.

I spent much of the day in my room, reading. I am currently reading my 118^th book in country, and decided to depress myself by reading “Angela’s Ashes”, a book that my dad recommended to me but I have always procrastinated because he told me how sad it was. I agree, it is sad, but also very good. If nothing else, it really makes me grateful for my own childhood. I was then inspired to write some letters home, so I listened to music while writing words of gratitude and love to family and friends back home. It was getting into afternoon and my friends were on their 2^nd or 3^rd plate of food, I had only had one. I was beginning to think I would only be given breakfast, but like the morning I thought too soon. I was quickly invited out to eat more. This time my plate was handed to me with more kaya wat, as well as dulat, and handed a cup of sewa. Now this was a typical holiday.

After finishing off the plate and cup, I retired back to my room to color the “grown up” coloring books I received in my latest care package that have become all the rage back in America. Anyone who makes fun of adults coloring should really try it, it’s quite soothing. I got a text from Ally who told me that, “the Koreans are on TV dancing at a televised party in Adwa!” Adwa (my school specifically) just received 2 Korean teachers who will be teaching HPE and Biology starting next semester, from the Korean version of Peace Corps. That’s a whole other blog and topic though… Apparently there was a party in Adwa that they ended up at, and they were on National TV dancing.

At this point I was feeling a bit like a volunteer failure. I have been in Adwa from a year and a half, and I was in my pj’s in my room coloring, while they have been in Adwa for a week and are already on TV. At that moment though I received a call from an unknown number. I don’t normally answer them, but I’m glad I did. It was one of my students’ fathers inviting me for dinner at their house. It was one of the students I took to Camp GLOW with me this summer, so he had my contact information. I wasn’t sure how to proceed, but decided to go ahead and accept the invitation. I met my student at the school and we took a bajaj to his house. I was told he lived in the village, however his house is just a short walk outside of town. (I am very glad we bajajed though!)

I walked into his compound and was greeted by his father, mother, grandmother, a neighborhood kids. They asked me if I wanted bread or injira, and I said “injira of course!” I was then handed a plate with tibs and dulat, a cup of sewa, and both were refilled twice by the time I left. His father lived in South Africa for 12 years, and between his almost perfect English, Amharic, Tigrinya, Arabic, and 4 languages from South Africa, he speaks 8 languages. Although he was a typical Ethiopian and asked me my age, religion, whether I have a boyfriend, and told me I got fat (he saw pictures of me from America when I was showing the neighborhood girls my phone), he was a very gracious host.

I was also pleasantly surprised to hear my student speak so much English. It was still very broken and not grammatically correct, mostly just vocabulary words strung together, but he was trying really hard and it reminded me a lot of my own Tigrinya ability and confidence. In class he rarely speaks, although he is always taking notes, so to see him in a setting he was comfortable in was nice, and he had the biggest smile on his face the whole time. I was asked if I like coffee and when I told them I do, the father automatically commanded the daughter (Endrias’s sister) to make buna for me. I felt bad, because I was not expecting that, but I also know that’s the culture here. We had 3 rounds of buna, with me having an extra few glasses because the other guest at the house didn’t want his.

My students’ sister is also a 10^th grader at the school, although she is a year older than Endrias. Although I don’t know the circumstances, I can guess that she was probably kept a year more at home to take care of Endrias when they were both little. Some of their family came in and out of the compound, and the little girls I was playing and making faces at left to their house. I was worried about being rude and excusing myself to get home before it was too late, but they called a bajaj and paid him before I was even done with my coffee. I was grateful for that. I felt like I might have over stayed my welcome, but I didn’t quite know how to just say “good-bye”, I normally am at others houses with my land ladies and they do that for me. I bajajed home and was safe and sound in my bed by 7:30 (although it gets dark around 6:30, so it always feels much later). I left my door open though and was called for more food and sewa at 8:30, so I was stuffed and exhausted and finally in bed with my door locked at 9:30pm.

My final Christmas count: 2 houses, 5 plates of food (3 included dulat), 7 cups of coffee, and 5 cups of sewa. I know other volunteers probably had more, but that’s enough for me. This is crazy to me that this was my “last Christmas in Ethiopia”. Because of their calendar, we celebrate every holiday twice, first the “American way”, second the “Ethiopian way”. That being said, this was my 4^th Christmas here. I have been pleasantly surprised that even though the holidays here are always celebrated with meat, coffee, sewa, and lots of people I have spent my holidays a little differently every time.

This year I had the opportunity to spend it with my land family, who has become my surrogate family here. However, I also had the opportunity to spend it with an invitation to a students’ house. On Wednesday as I was leaving school with my all my students (who showed up) I was invited to many houses, but since I have no idea where any of them live, and I live in such a big town where I won’t just run into them, I was not able to actually attend their parties. I was feeling a bit of a “failure” compared to some of my other volunteers who live in small towns and were invited to many houses. However, I have come to appreciate my own version of holidays that have become more of the norm for me.

Like in my other holiday blogs, I talk about how different holidays here are from back home. But in many ways, they are similar as well. You eat and drink more than you should or think you can, you greet everyone with a smile and a holiday greeting, you sometimes stay at home and people come to you, or you might travel to other houses, and no matter what you remember why you are celebrating. I have 2 more big religious holidays while in Ethiopia (Timket and Fasika), as well as many smaller religious and non-religious holidays. They are the reasons 2^nd semester is so short, with many days off. However, for me, this second Christmas marks the end of the holidays here and back home that made being away from home so difficult. I am almost to the end of my service here (well, I have 7ish months) and even though some days are still really hard, and some days that feels like an eternity, this holiday has really made me realize how close I am to the end, and how much I am going to miss this country, these people, and this experience.