An African Wedding or How I Spent My Entire Saturday

We’ve been in Africa long enough to know that some things run on a non-existent time schedule, but we didn’t really know what we were in for the day of the wedding.  We had tried unsuccessfully several times to get directions to the church.  Finally the bride told us she would meet us near the town prison at 9:30 am on the morning of the wedding.  (The starting time of the ceremony printed on the wedding invitations was 9:00 am.)  The bride said she would lead us to the church.

As we were getting ready on the morning of the wedding, we received a phone call from a friend of the bride informing us that the wedding was now delayed until 11:00 am and the friend would meet us near the prison at 10:30 am.  We arrived at the aforementioned meeting place, near this huge pile of trash, which we soon discovered also doubles as a public restroom.

 

At about 10:40 am Lincoln decided he wanted to call and check to make sure we were at the right place.  The friend of the bride answered and said that she would text us the number of the person who would be meeting us.  Lincoln said that he felt like we were on a treasure hunt, I felt like we were trying to get to some top-secret party. 

Lincoln called the number we were given and there was no answer.  He tried for the next 10 minutes to get a hold of the mystery person we were now meeting.  Finally someone answered and after Lincoln explained who he was and what he wanted and where we were, the person said that he would be there in 10-15 minutes.  By this time, the natives (yes, we had all 4 kids with us) were becoming exceedingly restless and our 4 year old, Kendi, alternated between near-starvation and violence directed toward Kyler’s head.

Over 30 minutes later, after 1 wrestling match, several empty threats, and 1 close brush with death due to lack of food, our mystery person showed up.

Well, we assumed it was the mystery person and not someone who was just trying to lead us to an isolated place to rob us.  As he approached us on the side of the road, he slowed slightly, honked his horn and waved at us.  At that point we were so sick of sitting motionless in the car that we took our chances and followed this gesticulating man.

He turned into a neighborhood, drove around aimlessly, and then pulled over to the side of the road.

We had no idea what was going on and were starting to wonder if we had, in fact, followed the wrong person.  After about 5 minutes, he did a U-turn and went back to almost where we had first met him.  He continued down the road for a few minutes, made a turn and we were at the church.  It turns out that the trash pile meeting place was about 3 minutes and 1 right turn away from the church!  Apparently we couldn’t be trusted with this information.

We were so happy to be able to get out of the car that we didn’t stop to wonder why everyone at the church was still sitting in their cars in the parking lot.  Our mystery escort had disappeared and we didn’t see anyone we recognized.  We entered the tent at about 11:30 am (2 and a half hours after the wedding was scheduled to start) and people were arranging chairs and setting up.

There were a few kids and some young women milling around and after about 10 minutes we began to think that we had actually missed the wedding.  Slowly, over the next 30 minutes or so, people began to trickle in.  (People arrived all through the entire ceremony, and with much shifting of the audience, everyone was given a seat.) As the tent became more occupied, it became more stifling hot!

At 12:19 pm  (I know because I kept looking at Lincoln’s watch), people started to hoot their hooters,  (American English translation – honk their horns) which apparently signaled the beginning of the wedding.  A cavalcade of cars arrived and the wedding party emerged.

The musicians started playing, the audience started singing, cheering and dancing and the wedding party danced down the isle.  It kind of reminded me of that Youtube video of the wedding party dancing down the aisle, but much more exciting.  And louder.

Here is some video we took.  If the video below won't play, you can watch it on youtube with this link.

The bride and groom were led to a table at the front of the tent and were seated, the rest of the wedding party joined the audience.  I realized that we were probably going to be there for a very long time if the bride and groom sat through the ceremony!

The bride and groom were very serious throughout the entire ceremony.

  

The ceremony started out with the pastor’s wife announcing that this would be a short service and giving a blessing and prayer and a song.  Then several other people and married couples came to the front and gave blessings or advice and more songs.  Most of the speeches and songs were in Tswana, the local tribal language spoken.

Following a few more songs the pastor and his translator arrived at the podium.  At various times the ceremony was translated from English to Tswana, from Tswana to English, from Tswana to Tswana, from English to English, and from some other language to Tswana.   The pastor took some liberties with his very lively and lengthy retelling of the story of Abraham’s servant searching for a wife for Isaac, in which the pastor highlighted the importance of a wife being a servant to her husband.

By this time Isabel was almost in full meltdown mode.  Lincoln took Isabel, along with his watch, and fled the area.  So, the rest of the time-line is a little fuzzy and possibly altered by the heat stroke I was experiencing.

After the animated and loud story of the servant Rebecca, the pastor launched into a 21-point sermon.  I wish I were joking about that.  Although, I’m certain he skipped point number 19 and I never heard point number 8.  That may have been because of the heat stroke, or maybe he didn’t say any of point 8 in English, or possibly point 8 was also skipped.  So, technically it was a 20 or maybe even 19-point sermon.  Nonetheless, it was long.  Probably about 4 hours long.  And loud. 

In this sermon he gave a list of highly important questions to ask a potential mate.  Here are some of the questions that I can remember.  I can only assume that they were in order of importance.

-Do you want to have kids?  If so, how many?

-Do you enjoy smoking?

-Do you drink or do you not drink?

-If we buy a house where do you want to live? In the city? In a gated golf community?

-Do you know Jesus and go to church?

-Which side of the bed do you sleep on?

-Do you like the air conditioner on or off in the car? (At this my 10 year old, Madison, leaned over and said, “I don’t see why some of these things really matter.”)

-Who will control the finances?  (During this point he announced to the audience, and most of the surrounding community, that he and his wife use the same 4-digit pin code for everything including their bank accounts, their cell phones and all things that need any sort of password.  This is to “Make things easier” and he recommended that the new husband and wife and the audience do the same.  They obviously have no concern of fraud or identity theft!)

-Does the husband expect the wife to quit her job and become a housewife?

-What kind of furniture do you like?  Old style, Italian Style or reclining furniture?

-What do you wear to bed at night?  Do you sleep naked or completely clothed?

-After marriage, where do you want to spend your holidays and vacations?

-Who does what chores around the house?

-How do you want to raise the kids in regards to schooling and religion?

He said some other stuff too, but I can’t remember any of it.  I do remember that it was long.  And loud.

My 2 middle children were in and out of the tent.   My 4 year old knocked over a chair while complaining loudly that she was bored and hungry, rolled around on the dirty floor in her white dress, and tried to lift up my dress with her foot. It was fun. I pretended that she wasn’t my child, which was completely unconvincing since we were the only white people within a 5-mile radius.

On the bridal table was a pitcher of water and 3 glasses with a “waitress” standing nearby.  At various points throughout the sermon, people in the wedding party and audience would signal the “waitress” and she would bring them a glass of water and stand next them while they gulped down the entire thing.  The “waitress” would then take the glass back to the front table and refill it for the next person to gulp down.

The groom also had a manager (I assume that’s what the guy was).  The manager tended to the groom, wiping sweat from his face, getting numerous glasses of water from the waitress and rubbing the groom’s shoulders to loosen him up.  During all of this, the groom looked like a boxer, wearing a suit, sitting in the corner of a ring between rounds.

After the sermon the pastor had the bride and groom rise and come to the center of the tent.   The photographer and videographer stood in the center isle, about 5 feet from the bride and groom, effectively blocking everyone’s view of the proceedings.  From this point on everything was conducted in Tswana.  Not being able to see anything but the backs of 2 large men, not understanding anything that was going on and suffering from hyperthermia (google it), I drifted in and out of consciousness for the next 6 or 8 hours.  In retrospect I should have asked the waitress for a drink from the communal glass.

This is the only unobstructed picture I got of the bride and groom.

Through the fog I suddenly heard loud music, loud cheering and saw everyone in the audience rise to their feet.  The wedding party then danced down the isle and the wedding was over.

I grabbed my children and exited through the side of the tent.

To my great surprise, when I looked at Lincoln’s watch it was only 2:30 pm, only 2 hours had elapsed since the beginning of the wedding.  Because it was also about 1 hour after Isabels’ naptime and we were all hot, tired and cranky, and the wedding party still needed to pose for wedding photos, we decided to forgo the reception that was supposed to start at noon.

It was actually a great experience, it just would have been much more fun without our little ones.  Now we know to arrive at a wedding 3-4 hours after the scheduled staring time and either leave the kids behind or bring several meals, plenty of snacks, a cooler filled with cold drinks, a myriad of activities, and at least 2 changes of clothes per child.  And earplugs.

~Jenny

A New Blog

I have recently started a new blog titled "Real Life".  The new blog has been a place where I've talked more openly and candidly about life on the mission field and life in general.

We will continue to update our ministry blog, LERATO, just as we always have, but I wanted to invite you to stop by and check out the new blog.

The address is JennyinSA.blogspot.com

~Jenny

Wordless Wednesday

Quotes That Inspire

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better.  It's not."

 Dr. Seuss from The Lorax

South Africa Stories

Nomdumiso* is the first person that I ever met in Freedom Park, a local squatter camp. She escaped her violent husband and fleeing with her two young children she came to Rustenburg, our town, to try and find work in the mines.  When she arrived she found that she couldn’t be hired because her government papers were not in order and she wasn’t able to prove her nationality.

Desperate to feed her children, she began to sell her body to “boyfriends” who worked in the mines. Over time she learned that she had contracted HIV.  Her “boyfriends” would no longer pay to sleep with her because she had the unspoken disease.

The women of the squatter camps call AIDS “our disease,” expressing their grief at the way that this disease has devastated their lives, families and communities.

Nomdumiso now works as a volunteer to educate other women in her community about how to prevent AIDS and how to live with it after they’ve contracted it.  Freedom Park is made up of many single mothers with AIDS who are struggling to find a way to support their children. Mothers dying and leaving children with no one to care for them is a common occurrence in South Africa.

*Name has been changed

~ Lincoln

Wordless Wednesday

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!

Source: Rgtmum

Valentine's Day in South Africa is celebrated in much the same way as in the US.  Many of the stores decorate with the traditional red and pink hearts and cupids (though they don't have these things out quite as early in the year as do most stores in the US.) 

Here is an interesting article on how Valentine's Day is celebrated around the world.

We hope you have a very Happy Valentine's Day!!

Prayer Support

Over the years we have had many people praying for us and for what we do here in South Africa, but we have never had an official prayer team.  We face very real spiritual warfare on a daily bases and we would love to know there are people praying for our specific needs.

Would you like to be a part of our prayer team?  We will send out emails about once a week, unless an emergency needs comes up.  Please send an email to JennyLincoln@hotmail.com if you would like to be added to our team.

Thank You!!

~ Lincoln and Jenny

Wordless Wednesday

Expectations

We have recently passed the one year anniversary of arriving in South Africa and I’ve found myself reflecting over the last year. 

I’m afraid that Christians in the U.S. tend to have a romanticized view of the mission field.  Unfortunately I believe that I too had an image of what life as a missionary in South Africa would be like.  Of course, we lived here for nearly a year and a half in 2006-2007, so I felt like I had realistic expectations; but that doesn’t stop the heart and mind from fantasizing about how things should be. 

In my fantasy I would spend my days bringing life to dying people in shacks.  I would bring them food and water that would nourish their bodies, while we talked about the living water the Jesus Christ offers.  They would excitedly embrace the life saving message of Jesus Christ.

I hoped to spend time with children raising themselves in shacks.  When I visited them in their homes they would be excited to talk to me as an American coming to see them.  They would be so thankful to receive the food, school supplies and school uniforms that I would provide for them and their brothers and sisters.  They would come to know the love of Christ through my selfless giving.

Unfortunately, real life is not quite so ideal.  Living on the mission field has taught me that sometimes reaching out to people is simply hard work.  The warm, fuzzy feelings are few and far between.  The bright smiles full of thankfulness and joy are oddly hard to come by.

The desire to give and help is complicated by the needed strategy of helping the poor to learn how to improve their own lives.  Real life on the mission field does not look like a 3-minute missions promotional video.  There is no inspirational music playing behind me when I’m sitting with an impoverished child living in desperation.  When you hand a child a new pair of school shoes and they abruptly ask for a different size or style, the warm fuzzy feelings tend to go out the door.  When you bring a sack of food to a needy mother, knowing that it will likely be stolen by her “boyfriend” that night, the inspiration is elusive. 

What I’m saying here is not a complaint.  It's a reality check.  Real life is real.  Whether you live in America or South Africa.  Hard work is hard, whether it is construction or spending 5 hours shopping for school supplies for orphans.

The point is, God didn’t call us to live a romanticized, feel good life, full of warm fuzzy feelings.  He called us to work.  The harvest is full, but the workers are few. 

The point of giving is not to feel good about yourself.  The point of sacrifice is not to boost your self-esteem. 

The point is obedience.

~Lincoln

New Tile at Martha's House in Phokeng

We’ve been working on installing new tile at Martha’s House, the orphan care project in Phokeng where we work with orphaned and vulnerable children.

This little house has been a work in progress over the last 4 years.  As money comes in, or as visiting missions teams come, we are slowly finishing it.  Previously it had a concrete floor that was very difficult to keep clean. 

 

We laid tile in the kitchen, storeroom, and dining room.  This is a huge improvement to place.

I’m so thankful for a grant from GM South Africa that provided the funds for this, and for the expertise of Matt Meng, a local YWAM missionary who has brought his knowledge and sweat to make this happen.

Matt and Tebogo

Tebogo is a young man who has grown up at Martha’s place over the years.  He is now a student at a local IT college.  We are teaching him how to lay tile, and he’s been a big help to us.

Martha is very excited to have floors that look nice and that will be easier to keep clean.

~Lincoln

Wordless Wednesday