Last night I went to an engagement party out in a village. They had hung up Christmas lights and some tinsle. After a moment of standing about the women of our group were ushered into the Women's Room. It was the interior of one of the houses, made of brick with a packed earth floor and a straw roof - standard village house, in fact a rather nice one. The small space was absolutely packed with women. Packed much like you would pack your suitcase if you were living out of it for a year. And what did we do on this festive occasion? We sat. After maybe forty-five minutes some of the women sang a bit, and some men came through to take pictures. But mostly we sat. For over an hour. Maybe two.
The little kids of the village were looking at me in fascination. One girl stood right beside where I was sitting and stared at me for ages. At times she would stroke my bare arm, feeling the white skin. Kids really do live in a world of their own, one in which they can point at me and think I don't notice. I pulled out my camera at one time and the little girl watched the view screen in fascination.
The men on the otherhand, sat outside, all of them on chairs (in the women's room there were only four chairs and over thirty women). Apparently some women came and danced for them, and some guy shot a gun off as part of the celebrations. We left rather early before the actual ceremony got started. Apparently the bride-to-be's family gives the groom-to-be gifts like eletric scooters, fridges and money and then everyone eats. But it was already late and the next day was a work day so we all shuffled off early.
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