Characterless_Somali_Wedding_Receptions

Saxarla’a and Saxardeed’s Anticlimactic Hour


They have been planning for this magnificent moment for nearly a year. Its
illusion of course cannot be underrated as the fusion of two distinct
individuals especially when observed symbolically as being the initial step to
a new life.  However, the modernity, verve and zest surrounding this hour have
been anything but the image of stability and harmony.  From the deepest
recesses at home to the most sophisticated hotels in the West, Saxarla’s and
Saxardeed’s hour seems to share one sad character with the rest: chaos. One
wonders if chaos is an inherent gene?  Is chaos an intrinsic cultural aspect?
Isn’t it time groups reflect at their chaotic wedding in an examination of
deeper problem at home? Or is the difficulty with the imitation of something
that isn’t familiar to the best of them.  Saxarla’s and Saxardeed’s bathetic
wedding reception demonstrates lack of discipline that snatches the limelight
from the thing itself. Months of planning advertised this wedding well before
it happened, which has built the emotions of those involved into destructive
energy.  Superficially the wedding imitate western model until the moment
arrived. On the night of the wedding, it is hard to believe that anything was
planned. Bewildered Saxarla’ glides into the reception dragging along her
clumsy white dress like the Chinese dragon, exposing those places that were
supposed to be covered while half of the dress flows on the floor like a river.
Tethered in her own design, she totters into the hall in the hands of a vague
groom amidst relatives and friends who forever bustle in front and all around
them like bees in a beehive. Young more baffled flower girls and ring bearers
carrying bulky baskets, zigzag along the path of the bride and groom,
surprisingly encouraging more volunteers to exacerbate the crowd around the
newlyweds. As cacophonous supposedly well wishing cries of African/Arabic or
English origin usher them into the reception hall, few ululations cut through
like the whistle of a referee against a serious violation. From the blush
wallpaper illuminated by fabulous chandeliers to the posh white tables cloths
accentuated with pink, purple or green trimmings everything seems immaculately
designed until they arrive. Chaos reigns from the moment they step out of the
limousine and all that conscious planning becomes devastated when the
irrational asserts its grip. Saxarla’ and Saxardeed step onto a dazzling stage
with two chairs clearly for them but neither they nor their volunteers seem
sure of where the newlyweds should sit.  Saxarla’ clumsily slumps into one of
the chairs then changes seats with Saxardeed while the social bees bumble up
and down the stage to strengthen her dress or wipe sweat from her eyebrow.
Almost one third of the guests suddenly become helpers, and decisions from how
the newlyweds should hold hands to where and how they should cut the cake
happen spontaneously on the spot.  Should they drink from the two separate
glasses or rather, more romantically, from two straws in the same glass creates
a tussle.  Must greet guests competing to shake the couples hands compel the
newlyweds into backward and sideward glances threatening the veil and the
artistic hairstyle. One wonders if the manner and method of greeting guests
wasn’t in the planning but then one assumes something as important as the grand
entrance was planned in advance.  Why can’t anyone seem to know what to do at
the moment of truth? “Watch out for these bumble bees.  I am afraid they will
trip me,” whispers Fay to her mother thinking about her upcoming wedding. From
lack of order or too much of it, Saxarla’ and Saxardeed are ushered up the
stage then to the dance floor for strange and infamous waltz.  After few
mumbles of the holy Qur’an read hastily and often imperfectly, the stage opens
for a disco like festivity beginning with the newlyweds. “When in our culture
did the bride and groom dance on their wedding?” Whispers an old guest to her
neighbour who dismisses her with a gesture. Then comes the equally infamous
cake.  This odd cake cutting tradition never lacks unhelpful directors who
frustrate the bride and groom.  In spite of a knife in a conspicuous place and
the hope that the newlyweds might have an idea what to do with it, helpers move
the knife upward and around in ritualistic mode before they allow them to cut
the cake.  One wonders why wasn’t this rehearsed before? Waiters in starched
uniform observe stiffly in shocking silence as more guests than they can feed
flow into the hall.  They stand spellbound wondering of whom to serve and whom
to ignore since there is no indication of who is invited or who is a guest of a
guest. Guests straddling around to greet long lost friends create more traffic
in an already crowded hall.  All in the middle of unusually loud music, which
though of African origin has metamorphosed into something peculiar.  At least
some African words offer comic relief in this tragic event until it is time for
a cultural dance. This beautifully rhythmic cultural expression has been
reduced to a messy strings of songs rendered a wail through a horrendous
microphone combined with some unsynchronized jumps which are followed by few
negotiations that goes on and off for a few minutes until they abandon the idea
itself. Unfortunately, the culture represented by this disorganized dance is
deserted immediately like the rest of traditional values. The beauty of
Africa’s famous drum never exudes from this traditional dance and yet the sole
beat of the drum moved mountains in the continent.  “Are we incapable of
holding on to the thing dearest to us?” Cries a plump lady whose impromptu
moves landed her on a chair nearby.

Western wedding is planned to the minuscule detail.  Rehearsals with all
parties concerned are routine practice before the wedding.  Guests come dressed
appropriately not to steal the spotlight from the bride.  Most of all, the
bride in her chosen dress must have made attempts to be comfortable with it.
Even for the people, who invented it, if they have to dance, practise the waltz
quite well.  Nothing is perfect without practice so why does this crowd imitate
something unfamiliar to them and hope everything to be perfect without
practice.

In spite of these frantic scenes, the marriage goes on, but one wonders about
the process that led up to this disarray.  Clearly a lot of energy has been
exerted to have an immaculate wedding not to mention enormous amounts of money.
If irrationality rules as a way of life, why can’t the young couple save their
energy and money to enjoy a disco style dance before going off to a relaxing
honeymoon?  It seems unfair for Saxarla’s and Saxardeed’s debut to appear more
like a street fight than a planned wedding reception.  They deserve better.
Should the most sacred Qur’an be trivialized to introduce things prohibited by
its injunctions?   Should guests not remain guests as a matter of courtesy in
this tragicomedy?

Rhoda A. Rageh
Rahmaa@yahoo.com
Bahda Mareegta Farshaxan




Soo Bandhige: Fu,aad Sh.