There was a slow start to the day in our house, but outside there was a hive of activity as the food was being prepared for the joint celebration of Jarvah’s baptism and his grandparents’ (almost) 50th wedding anniversary.
Extra family members and friends had been called upon to help. The alcohol, proudly shown to us, looked like grey sludge. The time of the church service did not seem to be clearly known, and we dressed much later than when Keith and I had been told it would start. The boys took a while to prepare and Ticha headed off with Jarvah, while Sebi was being dressed. It was a bit of a rush in the end, but we were all admired in our finery, and I thought that Rosie looked very beautiful.
There were lots of children outside when we arrived, and many of them were wearing a yellow and white outfit because they were in a junior version of the church choir.
We entered, and eventually Ticha and Jarvah joined us. He had just been double checking the name to be used in the ceremony and all was well. The church looked festive, resplendent with lines of brightly coloured pennants criss-crossing above the heads of the congregation. All those with wedding anniversaries were moved to sit together, and the choir could be heard rehearsing outside. A long time passed before the service commenced, with the full church becoming hotter and stuffier by the minute.
At last everything was underway, with Father Godi wearing gold and white, and being assisted by Mshaka and with Freddy and Majuto as altar boys.
Jarva had had a feed and had fallen asleep during the long wait, but when he woke he was very hot. Rosie took off his top. Unusually for him, he fell asleep again after only a short look around. The wedding anniversary couples, wearing leys, stood while their part of the ceremony was held. After everyone sat down again, Father Godi gave an address on marriage and asked Bibi and Fidelisi to stand, and even asked them questions about living together for so long and yet not having any domestic violence. It was indeed a special moment for them to share with the community, in the church that has played an important part in their lives. Their answers brought laughter, and I am sure that Bibi must have given one of her down to earth, very independent replies.
Jarvah was awake, but hot and dopey – he could hardly keep his eyes open. Sebi had long since been outside playing when Ticha and Rosie carried Jarvah up to the front to join the group for baptisms.
I could not see much from my position near the back of the church, but Rosie and Ticha said that Jarvah became even hotter and limp, and that his eyes started to roll. They were terrified, and with signals, alerted others so that the baptism was completed quickly and the sister had left the church on her way to the hospital to receive them as soon as they could get there. The hospital is on the mission grounds, not far from the church, so as we rushed out of the church, we scooped up Sebi and Rosie and Ticha raced ahead with Jarvah. The sister said that she thought the heat in the church had been responsible for him overheating, and he was not happy with the necessary dose of paracetamol that he was given to bring down his temperature. At home, he gradually picked up and was then off with his beloved uncle Asamio. He alternated between seeming to be fine, dropping back again, having more paracetamol and then picking up.
Meanwhile we had lunch and people started to arrive after church. Rosie and Ticha’s house became the home for the catering, with people being fed over a long period of time. Drumming and singing announced the arrival of a large group of women and children who had come from another village to perform and share in the day.
They were led down to the mango tree, where they continued to sing and play while they were served two buckets of alcohol. A small bag was used to filter out the solids, with the liquid being caught in a gourd which was then passed from person to person. Some mothers passed it to their children to have a sip. Gracia and Maria had taken us down to the tree, where I joined in some of the dancing.
Keith was the only man under the tree, save for a man who was sitting there before the women invaded. After about an hour the women left to walk the ten kilometres home.
It was not long before the members of the church choir arrived, singing on their way up the path from the road.
Bruno, Bibi’s brother, had paid for them to sing, as his contribution to the festivities. All the family was dressed up, with Fidelisi wearing the shirt we gave him and Bibi in our gift of a scarf, tied in a very stylish way on her head. Maria, Gracia and Inyasia were in their finery, even though they were flat out with the food, and Hawa looked stunning in her new skirt and top.
After two songs the choir was given lunch, and people settled down to chatting and sitting around in groups. The alcohol tasted sweet, but still had the slightly bitter tang of beer.
Everyone was very pleased to see Mshaka, and he was treated with great deference. There was a long period of sitting around and chatting before the choir sang again, with the guests of honour, Bibi and Fidelisi, seated before them. Some of us danced to the singing, and the choir members swayed to the beat and sang their hearts out.
There were a few speeches, from Bruno and Alnesti, and since we were welcomed and made a fuss of, I thanked everyone for their welcomes, offered our congratulations, and said that Rosie was lucky to have joined such a wonderful family. Alnesti translated my words into Swahili.
I sat with Mama Flora, a friend of Rosie’s and Mama Rosie; who had made my dress, and we were able to talk, with Rosie’s help. The sisters from the
After dinner, the boys fell asleep early, and Keith volunteered to watch them while Rosie and I went to the family dancing and singing around the fire. The girls were joined by Freddy, a cousin and Asimio, and some of the songs and dances were traditional Sandawe ones. Buckets made excellent drums. It was the ideal finish to the day, which had been one of both stress and great pleasure.
On the way back to the house, I commented to Rosie that I had still more mosquito bites, and yet Keith had none. It was with great relief that I heard her diagnosis – probably flea bites from being around the shady goat shed. It was only when I was happily telling Keith that I didn’t have to worry about malaria just yet, that I realised that not so long ago I would have been horrified at the thought of fleas.
As in Australia there is substantial separation of the sexes at a party. The older men gathered under the verandah to drink and chat. The blue bucket had the alcohol in it. A large gourde would be dipped into the bucket then passed around the group.
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