19 June 2007, by Sarah Harting in Bujumbura, Burundi-On Saturday I was invited to a wedding. My friend said that he would be busy taking pictures and that his parents would take care of me. I had to be in the church at 15h. They showed me my seat on the forefront. I just waited, watching what was happening. Some time later somebody came to me, asking if I needed a translator. I acquiesced and then moved to a place where my translator and I could sit next to each other.

After the service my friend introduced me to his parents. We then drove to the place where the next event would take place. I had no idea about what was going on, but I’m used to that. We arrived in Nyakabiga, in the north of Bujumbura where they dwell. I was conducted to the living room.

Nyakabiga is different from Kinindo where I live. The main road is paved but the other small streets are not. That neighborhood is also smaller than in Kinindo. There are more people walking around, the compounds are much smaller, houses stand closer to each other. I didn’t see as many guards as in Kinindo. I’d say there’s more life and less money in Nyakabiga.

As for the interior of the house, it looks like others. The rooms are smaller, but the fridge in Nyakabiga was bigger than in Kinindo where it is even hidden. We sat down in the living room, on huge wooden chairs that I only see in Africa, but seem the same everywhere. And my friend’s parents were running around collecting glasses and putting them in a box. At the end we left again and went to another house not far from theirs. Apparently they needed plates to serve with. There was no one in the first two houses, so they asked one at a small cafeteria and we drove back to the place. When we arrived, I followed “my second pair of parents” into a big crowded hall.

I heard music and just surprised some girls dancing. They stopped as I came in. They gave me a plastic chair to sit on, at the front row, my friend the photographer placed his chair next to mine, and our parents sat on the same row but on the other side, close to the married couple. The hall was divided into two face to face rows as I understood later. There was an empty open space in the middle and at the back the married couple in even bigger chairs. I found out why we had to get glasses because drinks where served. Those sitting close to the married couple had glasses, the rest drank directly from bottles.

Gospel music was played, and when we finished our drinks a group of boys danced in the open space. Then came the time for presents. I gave mine though I didn’t know the people, nor what to give. I bought them a decoration to hang on the wall. Then the married couple left, my friend told me that they would come back, he would go with them, and I should wait with his parents. Most people left and I just waited.

After some time they came back, about half of the chairs had been removed and I got to sit next to the parents. It is only then that I realized that “my” parents had played the role of bridegroomŽs parents! We sat once again in two groups: on the left were the family of the bridegroom, on the other side the family of the bride. Some speeches were pronounced (all in Kirundi) and the families would sing one after the other. We got a soda again, now that I was sitting really close to the couple they asked me what I wanted to drink.

Everybody left again, so I followed my parents again. We lined up at the entrance and had to greet every member of the bride’s family. I was now fully integrated in the bridegroom’s family. I imitated mum while greeting. They found it very funny to see a white girl acting like a Burundian. When it was all finished I was invited to go back to Nyakabiga to have dinner. Dad’s car was full so my friend and I waited for him to come back.

When we arrived the house was completely crowded. We had to sit outside. The table in the kitchen was covered with plates of food.

People ate and left and when my friend and I finished, he drove me and two others home. I knew only the route from town and from Kinindo, but I found out that in the north of Bujumbura the roads were much better. I was surprised that we could drive like 100 km/h whereas in Kinindo, with all the holes in the road you can never drive faster than 50 km/h, and often drive only 10 km/h.