Manch-Tswana: My Big Fat Botswana Wedding

MY BIG FAT BOTSWANA WEDDING

Weddings are a major source of entertainment in Botswana. As is the case in many cultures, the joinder of a Batswana couple in matrimony is filled with tradition and ceremony. But here, the ceremony is certainly over the top, not to mention the tradition.

Recently we attended the wedding of the only daughter of the family that hosted us in Kanye during our training. Actually, “wedding” should be written in the plural, since we only attended one of three ceremonies. In Botswana, typically a wedding consists of a ceremony and a reception hosted by the bride’s family, followed by another ceremony and reception a few days or weeks later hosted by the groom’s family. Then there is the civil ceremony, which takes place first, at the traditional village meeting place, or kgotla, presided over by the traditional chief, or kgosi.

Because Peace Corps insists that we become full participants in our communities, we learned during training all about weddings and funerals. Our host family took us to the wedding of a cousin early on in our service, so we absorbed a bit of what to expect. But we did not know that cousin, so the ceremony was just a cultural experience for us. This time around, we knew the bride well, not to mention her mother, four brothers and other relatives. We even had met the groom during our training, although at the time he was just a suitor.

It takes a bit of an effort to get from Goodhope to Kanye: a combi (minibus) ride to Lobatse, followed by a country bus ride to Kanye. Once there, we were treated as royalty. On the morning of the wedding, we were invited in for tea at the bride’s family home. The sitting room was all done up for the occasion, with white covers festooned with hearts on every piece furniture.

Outside in the yard, dozens of friends and neighbors were working in what had become a temporary outdoor catering kitchen. Women were seated in groups peeling and chopping fresh peppers, onions, cabbage, beets and potatoes. Others were cutting up fresh chicken, goat and beef. And I mean fresh: these animals had given their all only hours earlier. Nearby four outdoor wood fires were blazing, Suspended above each were large black iron kettles. Men placed the meat in some of the kettles and women handled the nearby vegetable kettles. See photo. At the beef kettle, one man was using a thick forked stick to pound the meat. The beef was cooked along with some bones, and the pounding process pulverized the bones and marrow along with the meat to form a sort of pot roast. It is a local delicacy, known as seswaa.

Other friends and family began to accumulate outside of the house. The older ones sat in plastic chairs and chatted. Because of the chilly fall morning air, some of the women brought along blankets to wear over their shoulders. We spotted two other Peace Corps volunteers arriving at the scene. Each of them had also stayed with this host family during their training, one in the group six months ahead of us, the other in the group twelve months ahead. Like us, they were eager to see our host family “sister’s” nuptials.

One of the volunteers told us that a temporary kraal (an Afrikaans word meaning “corral”) had been set up at the grandmother’s house down the road a bit. I immediately went down to look. See the attached picture. Inside the kraal were eight calves, along with a spare mother cow. The calves are a reverse dowry, or bride price, known as “lebola”. It is paid by the husband to the bride’s family. It is usually paid in beef cattle, the traditional measure of wealth in Setswana culture. While the number of cattle can vary with the “value” of the bride, nowadays it is usually set at eight, which is seen as a more manageable price for a groom to pay. Actually, eight cattle are still quite expensive, and the price is an impediment to marriage. It has become a factor in the HIV epidemic, since unmarried couples are less stable, more likely to have multiple concurrent partners, and more likely to spread the disease. As one can imagine, the negotiation of the lebola is steeped in tradition. The bride’s uncle negotiates it with the groom’s uncle. The official handover takes place at the kgotla as part of the civil marriage ceremony.

About two hours after we arrived on the scene, the bride and her entourage (bridesmaids, flower girls, mother and aunt) emerged from the family home. The bride wore white, her attendants wore peach. With the bride’s family and friends in tow, they walked down the road, singing a traditional song. They were in turn met by the groom and his family and friends, walking toward them. The groom and his attendants wore dark suits. Then the whole group marched together toward the wedding tent: a big white nylon circus tent similar to what one would see in the United States.

The tent was arranged with tables and chairs to seat perhaps 200. They were covered with white cloths. There was a head table, raised up on a dais. In front of the head table was a display of some traditional hand made items. You could almost mistake the arrangement of the tent for an American wedding reception. There was one big exception: many people were hanging around outside the tent, watching the festivities. In Botswana, everyone is invited to a wedding. One might not get a seat inside the tent, but anyone can look on and join in from the outside. Some may have helped out with the cooking and preparations, but others might just have wanted to wish the couple well.

There was no obvious exchange of vows, probably because that had previously occurred at the kgotla ceremony. Several pastors said prayers for the couple and there was some hymn singing. Then the hired jazz band started up, with lots of brass and some blues. There were a number of speeches: one by an uncle on the groom’s side, another by an uncle on the bride’s side. The master of ceremonies for the event introduced we four Peace Corps volunteers as members of the bride’s family (i.e. our host family), and we were accordingly seated as members of their extended family.

Then came the food: seswaa, chicken, goat stew, setampa (chewy maize meal), bogobe (sorghum porridge), potato salad, beet salad and cole slaw. It was served as a buffet, and people left no inch of their plates uncovered. See the photo of my plate. There was no alcohol, as our host family members are Seventh Day Adventists and avoid the stuff.

After the meal (about five hours into the celebration), the bridal party departed to get dressed into other outfits. Thirty minutes later, they emerged and processed back into the tent, dressed in red. There was some discussion about the new outfits and which aunt had paid for them. Then the bridal and groom’s party departed again. Each party returned in a procession, dressed in yet another set of outfits paid for by yet another aunt.

By this point, it was getting dark and cold, and we decided to say our goodbyes. The music and good times continued into the night. We said to each other that we had never felt so welcomed by another family, and so privileged to be considered one of them.