I've never watched Survivor, but if there was a wedding on that show
between the contestants, I suspect that it would be very similar. We
hiked up and down a steep mountain on a very hot day, chased some kids
through some woods, and finally made it to a teal homestead where the
wedding was to take place.
We were the special non-African guests that everybody looked at oddly...
"How did they get here?". I used to get annoyed, but the scrutiny is
part part of the deal of working here. There's just no getting around it.
I tried to mingle with the men and man-boys over shared buckets of
homemade Swazi brew, of which there was the orange and sorghum
varieties. The orange was more re-freshing fruit, less sour milk. Both
gave me diarrhea for the entire week.
The older guys all brought their knives in anticipation of the cow
slaughter. Well, I happened to have my buck knife with me. Apparently,
it wasn't up to muster; this guy, Sam, plainly said it was good for
apples only. As the cows were being herded into the kraal pen, Sam
sharpened my knife quickly and off we went.
Five cows went in the kraal, only three came out. The kraal is where all
the cows are kept at night. Around this kraal, pushing against the
fence, was the entirety of the wedding guests. Singing siSwati choral
songs, they (and I) watched two men inside the kraal slip a spear into
two cows. The sacrificed cows stood for a few minutes before coughing up
a bit of blood, lying down gently, and taking their last breaths.
I followed Thokozane and the other men into the kraal. We took apart the
cow like legos; hide, stomach, intestines, heart, liver, kidney, ribs,
legs, and so on. The whole process was accompanied by singing and took
no longer than 15 minutes right there in the kraal at the spot where the
cow laid down. I still have cow guts dried on my knife, never washing
that off.
The other cow was skinned, but left laying on top of the hide. The
tradition is for this cow to go to the kitchen in its entirety. One
family pulled it toward the kitchen, the other pulled it away. The
result was a game where the skinned dead cow bounced up and down 4 four
feet in the air as we all tugged and yanked and laughed. It would have
been gross if it wasn't so much fun.
After the slaughter, Thokozane led the party in traditional dancing.
Everybody knew the songs, everybody knew the dances. Folks would just
jump in and out. Kids and girls did the bulk of the saying. There was a
song where the chorus is just "rabies", as in the disease. I still need
to figure out what that song was really about.
Drunk men offered me 20 cows in exchange for my female friend. When I
said I would require at least 40, they inquired about any sisters back
in the US. My friend wouldn't play along beyond that. Joking aside, this
giving of cows is not a demeaning gesture as commonly thought. Because
the wife officially moves to the husband's home and brings all her
skills and abilities to the new home, the husband must provide something
to the wife's family as thanks and compensation.
The whole celebration lasted Saturday and Sunday. The third and final
and largest ceremony would take place later, sometimes weeks, sometimes
months. In that ceremony, guests would come in not only traditional
clothes but also with shields, spears, and clubs (nopkiris).
This was way more fun than American weddings :)
