Julius was married last night in his traditional Kom wedding.
How can I possibly describe an African wedding to people who don’t live in Africa! But here is a bit of the saga. The Kom people are the tribe who live around Mbingo and to the north from here. Julius is the only one of the students who is Kom – the others tell me that their own tribe’s traditional weddings are much less lengthy, and the dowry is much smaller. Grace says that when she was growing up in Oku, just east from here, the saying was “A Kom woman in the house is trouble” to indicate that an Oku boy who considered marrying a Kom girl had better count the cost!
The proceedings were to start at 6pm in Biango, the village just north from Mbingo. It is about a 45 minute walk, so the girls and I set out before 5:30pm. When we arrived, Julius and his family and friends were still at his house, just starting to put the palm oil, a big part of the dowry, into a wooden cask for carrying to the bride’s home. The cask held 60 litres of oil – to be carried on the head of one man, at least ½ mile, maybe further. It was filled to the brim, banana leaf was put over the top, the wooden lid was put on, and tied in place with the heavy fiber from the banana leaves, and the whole thing tied on to a little wooden platform that then sat on the head of the carrier.
Julius tells me today that there was quite a delay, because there was a soccer game on TV with Cameroon national team playing, and there is no question of that taking 2nd place to a mere wedding – so we got started definitely on African time. My students kept saying that the wedding last June of one of the OR nurses started on schedule – “because his family, and the bride’s family were enlightened – these are village people!” True or not, we started off from Julius’s compound about 7pm, when it was getting quite dark. We picked up firewood which Julius had had stored near the highway, each of us taking a piece, and headed down a rough downhill trail to the bride’s home. It must have been close to ½ mile. I had stupidly forgotten my torch – and let me tell you, darkest Africa IS darkest Africa once the sun sets. We were out in the bush where there is no electricity, and since Grace was wearing a dark dress, it was all I could manage to see her ahead of me. Thankfully, my piece of firewood acted as a sort of walking stick, as I hustled along to keep up with her, and Evert. Meanwhile other Africans were whipping past me, clearly with far better night vision than I have. Soon Julius caught up to me, asked where my torch was, and gave me his for the rest of the evening – I was SO grateful. As we got near the bride’s house, the pounding of rain began nearby and soon reached us – a real downpour. And thus we reached the house.
I was taken in to a 1-room mudbrick house with a dirt floor – the venue for the wedding. Lots of women were there, with a huge pot of fufu corn cooking over an open fire in the middle of the floor. It was like sitting by the campfire, especially when they added wood and the smoke filled the room. Before the fufu was turned out in big cakes, we from the groom’s side were ushered out and up to another nearby house (through pitch blackness again). There were many, many people there, being fed fufu and njamma njamma and fish and rice and salad – a feast. I was just about to sit down on a bench with Grace and Stephen and 2 of the OR nurses when I was grabbed by a “waitress” (I was the only white person there, so easy to spot I suppose) and led off to another room that was like a little restaurant booth. Julius’s close relatives seemed to be there. Amos, one of the nurses, gave Grace a push and said to her “Go with her and make sure she’s ok!” The OR staff are so kind to me, and such good friends. We were fed, then left and returned to the bride’s house where by now the fufu was in loaves, and the fire was out.
An entertainer, dressed like a jester, then took over the program, and continued as MC for the rest of the night. Everything was in Kom so I could only go by gesture and actions – dancing, clapping, and so on. Soon Julius and his friends (including Stephen) came in, the other fellows hiding Julius who was then hidden behind them on the bed they were sitting on. There were several passings of food, and corn beer (which does not smell good at all) was served. Grace and Christian, who was sitting with us by now, were appauled at the way the jester handled the food, kicking dirt in it, putting his big dirty hand into one of the fufu loaves, letting a chicken jump on the fufu. So they were good to sit with, as they were very adept at handing the dishes of food over their shoulders to others behind them - I was thus able to avoid taking any more food!
Finally about 10pm, the bride and her attendants were brought in, but with heads down, and hidden by the women. They were fed some meat (another traditional thing), then led out again. I never really got to see any of them. Only much later, after we were gone, were they brought back for the actual wedding. By then, they had been dressed in matching wrappers, their skin rubbed with some sort of dye, their hair done up and decorated with beads etc. Then came the ceremony that I would love to have seen. Julius had to state his intention to take this woman as his wife for life, and then fed her fufu as the mark of his vow. Then each of his friends also had to state his name and parentage and also eat to pledge that he did not know of any reason to oppose this marriage. And the women did the same. And so the marriage agreement was concluded.
But Grace and Christian and I decided to leave about 10:30 (Evert had been lucky to go home by motorcycle earlier as she was on call). Walking home was an adventure in itself, even with the torch. (Stephen and another groomsman came home at 2pm with no torch – I don’t know how they found their way). The trail to the highway was pretty rough, but once on the tar, it was easier walking, just all up hill, and a long way. At least we knew well ahead when a vehicle was coming, as the lights certainly show up a long way off. There was not much traffic, just a few motorcycles, and one or two cars. Finally at 20 to 12 we reached Mbingo, only to find it all in darkness. Sonel was off again (since 10pm we heard today) and our generator must still not be working. Thankfully for patients on O2, and for food in our freezers, the power came on again about 8:30 this morning.
So that is my first traditional wedding, and sadly, I missed the central part of it. But I saw quite a bit. And I was able to sit patiently on my little stool watching, which the students say shows that I have become a little bit African! And Julius is now married, to a lovely young woman.
At noon yesterday, I’d been at a lunch for the surgical residents, and we got talking about their traditional weddings. They are all from different countries – Liberia, Sierra Leone, Nigerian, Burundi (but married in Congo). Each country is a little different, but the basics are the same – an agreement between the two families (even though the young couple make their own decision to marry), a bride price to be paid by the groom, and the whole thing done in a certain set way. Only the Liberian couple had not had a traditional agreement, only a church wedding. It was quite fascinating hearing their stories – a very interesting part of cross-cultural living.
It has been quite a funny week really. Monday, John (our head nurse) was not
here in the morning and the guys told me he was at court in Belo up the road -
he had cut some trees for firewood, on his own property, but his neighbour had
claimed the trees were his and had threatened John and John's mother, and took
John to court. I guess it all went well, in John's favour, and the
neighbour was forced by the gendarmes to apologize....but it is never good to
be taken to court here! Then, Sande wasn't feeling well so consulted the
surgeons and by 11am was on the OR table himself having repair of a hernia that
had been troubling him for a long time. He did fine and went home the
next morning, but then developed a spinal headache – just what you’d expect an
anaesthetist to do! The poor kid -
his wedding is April 18 so he has a million things to do these days, and didn’t
need this. Tuesday, Gideon came to work on the yard, and looked very
despondent. Last May before I went home, I loaned him my rain jacket (a
nice bright yellow MEC one) since it gets really cold here when it is windy and
raining, and I'd seen him just perishing with cold too many times. I
really never used the jacket much here, as an umbrella usually will do - but I
thought I'd like it back now, as I look forward to some hiking. He had
got it out of the box where he keeps his clothes, books etc, and found that
rats had got in there and had destroyed many of his things, and had eaten some
on the jacket too!! I would not have thought melted pop bottles, or
whatever it is made from, would have been real delicious!! It is the first time I have lost
clothing to rats, but I guess is not that uncommon for folks here whose houses
are far from secure, from any sort of rat. Our water pressure for a couple of days was real poor, and
Tuesday there was no water for the kitchen of the hospital, or in the hostel
where the expat guests are staying. Fortunately it rained heavily Tuesday
night - everything got well wetted down, and there was more pressure Wednesday
morning – but even with the rains gradually beginning, it will take some times
for the ground water to be replenished and the springs to flow well again.
There was more rain Thursday, but none since. The last two days have been really hot. Most people have planted now (corn and
beans primarily) and so are anxious to see the rains get firmly established,
and regular. With the rains come
the lightning stikes. I just
learned that Cameroon has more lightning hits per square km than anywhere on
earth – or so I’m told!!
Terrific! Having grown up
on the bald prairie, I hate lightning, but I guess there is not much option
here but to get used to it! Before midnight Tuesday the power went off.
This is nothing new with Sonel, but normally our generator is turned on,
and we are never without power for more than a few minutes. But that
night there was no electricity from midnight until about 8 am. I didn't
even want to think about my freezing compartment, as I have chicken, and got
4kg of beef last Friday when the hospital slaughtered - my first beef in
months!! Wednesday night the power went off again. Later I heard more of the story. After the long outage, Thom here phoned
the man at Sonel in Bamenda, who he knows, and asked him what was going on, as
he’d heard that there was no power as far north as Banso, about 100 km
away. The man in Bamenda sounded
amazed, but in about 5 minutes the power from Sonel was on. Thursday evening, power was off
again. So this time, Thom called
after just 2 hours – and eureka!
the power came on almost immediately again. Our generator needed a new
starter, and I think it has arrived now, so we should be ok again. We really
live a cushy life here, but I DO like having water and power!!! In a city, you
wouldn't have assurance of either. On Wednesday, ALL the OR staff except me, 3 students, and
3 nurses, departed at 11am for a funeral. The man who died had apparently
been sick a long time (HIV I later learned) but was working in the
dressing-making room – and any staff member has his funeral put on by the
hospital as his "MBH family". It is obviously a big social
occasion. This was the 3rd
burial that had affected me in 8 days – the Tues before all the anaesthetists
had gone to the funeral of our colleague Elvis. Monday Julius had to go to the burial of his aunt. And then this hospital one. It is all a bit foreign for me –
another thing to get used to!
Other events – Julius is having his traditional wedding next weekend, so he had to “celebrate” in OR which means feeding all the rest of the staff! Saturday we had an anaesthesia conference for the 10 anaesthetists who work in the 4 CBC hospitals, plus my students. The case scenarios presented by the men would knot the coronary arteries of most North American anaesthetists, and these guys, nurses, are dealing with them really well with little equipment, limited supplies, and no help. I have great respect for the work they are doing. It was a pleasure to see them all together again - it was a very good day.
Days seem so much the same – get up at 5am, go to chapel and then class, and be in OR by 8 to start the cases – finish around 2 or maybe closer to 3 – go to aerobics 3x a week – water the garden – make supper – do prep for the next day – go to bed. Repeat daily!! But quite a lot does happen. Last year I kept a diary, at least part of the time. I haven’t this year and will probably wish I had – but there doesn’t seem to be time or energy!
On March 2, Mbingo hill finally was burned – just a few days later than last year. This time though, we have had the occasional rain so things were not quite so dry – and it began about 5pm when the day was already getting cool, so the grass burned quite slowly, and was still burning in the morning. Quite a bit of grass did not go, unlike last year when it was a hot windy day and the entire hill was black in about 2 hours. I haven’t seen the hills ablaze many times this year, but every day there is the smell of smoke, and bits of charred grass floating down on everything. You need to wipe down the clothesline before hanging the laundry or everything will have a line of dust and soot on it.
Last Saturday, March 7 we had 1 ½ inches of rain over about 2-3 hours. A real rainy season rain! Then there was a bit more rain Sunday evening. But on Tuesday, the dust came back in as thick as it has ever been this season, and it has been dry season weather the rest of the week. Tomorrow, March 15, is the day rain is supposed to begin. Everyone is spending all their off-work time at the farm, preparing to plant, and some have already planted (beans and corn are the main crops for rainy season) – so now there is a great urgency to see rain come. We will all be glad to be rid of the dust and heat. Gideon has planted cabbage seed and beans as well as the carrots and lettuce in my little garden, so we will see what happens. I have had a wonderful crop of tomatoes, almost done now.
There have been some grim happenings. We had a tiny baby in OR who had been given an IV elsewhere, which went into the tissues. To reduce the swelling, someone put on cold packs and bound them to the leg tightly – resulting in gangrene. Then the leg was amputated, but leaving the stump of bone sticking out. It was simply gross. Our orthopod tidied up the amputation, and at least at Mbingo there is a really good prosthetics department, so the child will be able eventually to get a good artificial leg – but what a sad story. Unfortunately this is not all that uncommon a thing to have happen – certainly not the first we have seen here.
Then about 10 days ago, a young lawyer died here of tetanus. He had broken his leg playing soccer, probably a compound fracture, but instead of coming to the hospital (where his sister is even a nurse on the ortho ward), he went to the traditional healer for about 10 days. When his sister found out, she was furious with his stupidity, and got him to Mbingo for proper surgical care. But shortly, he developed signs of tetanus, and despite treatment, he died. The tie that the traditional healers have on people is simply amazing, even on the educated like this man – and often with tragic results.
The worst happening for the anaesthesia department was the death a week ago of one of our youngest nurse anaesthetists in a car accident. He did not work at Mbingo, but all 10 of the CBC nurse anaesthetists were trained by my Australian friend who got this department going – and they are all very close friends, so this has been a devastating blow to the anaesthesia department. He was in a small van taxi, traveling north to see his people during his annual leave. The road at that particular place was paved, but disintegrating at the side which fell away down a steep slope. The van moved over to allow a big truck to pass, and tumbled over the edge. There were a lot of passengers – I’ve heard anywhere from 10 to 14, and 4 besides our friend died. He was alive after the crash and was helped up the embankment and into a vehicle heading for Banso hospital where he had worked for some years. But he began to deteriorate enroute and was dead on arrival. We wonder if it was an intracranial hematoma – or perhaps internal bleeding. The burial was in his home compound far to the north on Tuesday. All our men went, except the one on night call. The 4 students (Christian went along as he is a tribesman and close friend) and I were left to run
OR and the day went very well – I was proud of the gang, as they worked hard and managed very nicely almost entirely on their own.
I’m trying to pick up some Kom phrases and slowly a few are coming. Together with my farm basket that I wear on my back for marketing, my attempts at Kom create amusement in market and on the pathway! I have been getting anyone who is Kom to help me. One day this week, some of the kids were at my window on their way home from school, and Philemon was helping me a bit. I said to him that soon he would be charging me school fees (since every student in this country pays them), and I could see the little wheels start to turn. “I cannot teach you when I’m hungry” he announced (Philemon being obsessed with the emptiness of his stomach every day as he goes home from school). He is 7 and much too clever for his own good!
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