Here comes the bride!

Well, okay, so in Malian weddings she doesn't really come or go anywhere. She sits under a white sheet for three days until the husband's cousins and brothers come get her to take her to her husband where she then sits in his house for 7 days until finally they present themselves as a couple, sign the marriage certificate at the Mayor's and enjoy their new life together.

My good friend and co-worker Adiza got married this past weekend. She had very little to do with the festivities however. It was like we were partying for her, and M. Maiga her new hubbie, but with neither present at the festivities. At first we, the close friends of the bride, sat with her and got henna done on our hands and feet and got our hair done. They wanted to "install" a "koyra boro hiiri" headpiece for me, but I declined. And when I say install, I mean install. A large leather strap is attached to a headband which has a woven crest on top and is braided into the hair. Then strips of beaded bands are also braided in. Two clumps of dried dung are attached near the ears and other large yellow and red beads are woven in on top. Side tassles attached, other metal coins and cowries tied onto leather train. If you can't picture it yet, voici my co-worker Bebe:


The women who did my henna were very interested in the Anasara who speaks Sonrai and has lived in Mali almost a year. It was hard to be around so many people who didn't know me (Adiza's parents are in Gao, that was where the first part of the ceremony took place). The griot walked in while I was cat napping, but I still heard her say "What's this Anasara doing here?" And then she proceeded to make fun of Cisse's. How droll.

All day I enjoyed the conversations the women had: how to please your husband, who of their neighbors is a witch, how to find a good calabash...and because I was reading the Red Tent at the time, I was reminded of that community of women. More and more ladies piled into the salon, probably 30 in all, in their finest basin "completes" and soon it was time for lunch. I ate with Adiza, though she was still under her sheet.

After resting and waiting for the sun to drop lower in the sky, the women all washed and changed into white basin. Adiza stayed under her sheet. The takamba dance party began with an old griot MCing and a male band, but the guests were all women. Of course, lots of neighboring men came to watch us dancing. Still, bride nor groom participates. I danced with the Ansongo folk, the women of "La Sante" and with Mariams. The griot guy even raised my arm a few times (how you declare someone can dance) but I left early--too early to get my boisson! Gasp!

I brought Adiza her gift of new sheets the next day and got the boisson they set aside for me. Today we chatted mostly about beauty products. A woman came to bless Adiza and give her perfumes and traditional medicines. Bebe, laughing, gave me a little bottle of aphrodisiac. She says, "You put it here, here, here and here a ben. It's done." Ha. The last thing I need is more Malian men pursuing me! Ack! In fact, some of the male nurses and doctors came up from Ansongo to greet Adiza. "Major" noticed the little bottle near my purse and gave me a hard time about it.

We drank doonu, which is pounded millet mixed with spices and sour milk. Nothing too remarkable happened today--I think the whole wedding ceremony is time for the bride to rest before she begins a long life of hard work with little appreciation.