This weekend, I want to remove my hair. I only have two weeks left and my hair needs some time to recover from the strain. Moreover, as my hair has grown since the braiding, the braids are not tight to the head anymore. I know that I will miss that long hair, but the other side of it is dominating. Beatrice tells me that she asked a lady to come to the house and do it there for me. However, after breakfast, the plan changes. There is not enough time because we also want to go to the wedding of Evelyne’s sister. To make it to the ceremony at the church, we have to leave before 1 pm. So I get to keep my hair for one more day.
Bernard drives us to the wedding’s venue. As we arrive at the church, we don’t see anybody familiar. I am not sure if this is the right place, until eventually Evelyne arrives with the wedding couple. Now I also see Jane and Egidia from SNV. So we are not too late after all. A choir sings, a pastor prays and delivers a sermon. I dislike how she shouts into the microphone. Bride and groom swear oaths and exchange rings. I can’t see much of this as a crowd of men with cameras surround the two, thus blocking the view for everybody else. In addition, the rings are exchanged behind the pulpit. This is not well thought through. What I can see, however, is that neither bride nor groom look particularly happy.
From the church, which is not an actual building but a roofed place between other buildings, we move on to where the wedding pictures are taken. Egidia gives Beatrice and me a lift in her car, as Bernard has already left. Aster, one of Evelyne’s daughters, also comes with us. She is supposed to translate for me. The location for the wedding pictures is the former president’s residence, which is now a museum. That president died in a plane crash. His plane, with him and the then-president of Burundi, was shot and crashed down in his very own garden, just a short distance from the airport. The aircraft is still there. I can see its top jutting out from behind a wall. Despite the sad history of this place, it is a popular place for taking wedding pictures. We are not the only party here on this Saturday. It is understandable, because the spacious, beautiful garden surrounding the house makes a very nice background. Actually, it resembles a park. There are fountains, which are dry at the moment, flower beds, gravel paths and a giant tree.
The first pictures are taken of the wedding couple and their entourage. The wedding’s colours are white and pink. The men are wearing white suits with pink ties, the girls, except for the bride completely wrapped in white, are wearing short pink dresses, pink Alice bands, pink necklaces, pink shoes and big white earrings. Even for these pictures, hardly anyone smiles. I don’t understand why everybody makes this serious face and nobody can explain it to me. No smile. Not by the wedding couple, not by the guests, not by the parents and siblings.
After the photo shoot, the final event is the reception. This is a long day for everybody, because they already had the dowry in the morning. The reception takes place inside, this time. A big room has been prepared with numerous rows of chairs and a stage at the front, kept in white and pink of course. When the room is full, the wedding couple enters. They cut the pink ribbon between the arch erected at the start of the long carpet spread out through the length of the room, and take their seats at the front. A group of traditional dancers performs. Aster has joined me again and explains what is going on. She is a student, starting her second year of general medicine in Huye this September. Drinks are served for all guests, the wedding cake is cut and shared. The best part is when two small girls recite a short poem, even though I don’t understand a word of it. However, it is obviously packed with jokes and for a short moment, laughter fills the otherwise rather calm room.
