The Whites Wedding Photography

Last Saturday, I observed history in the making in Bundibugyo. Or so I was told. My language helper, Biwa, asked that I come to a mass wedding. I was intrigued and soon found myself not only committed to attending but also to being the wedding photographer. Josh, my teammate, was the videographer. We joked that we should start a photography business called “The Whites”. (As white Americans, we are often lovingly referred to as “the whites” by Ugandans here)

5 couples were married in true Ugandan fashion and it was a great celebration. They were all married at the same service and then had separate receptions at their family homes. Of course the service started when it was scheduled to end and since there were 5 couples it seemed extra long. But I really enjoyed being a part of the joyous occasion. And being there as the official photographer was fun—I often feel awkward taking photos of people here but since it was expected, I enjoyed being behind the lens! Here are just a few of the photos from the day:

Arriving Ugandan style :)

Bride #3 arrives and processes in with singing.

Josh got some awesome video coverage of this kid shaking his groove thing. Gotta love spontaneous dancing with pink jeans and gumboots!

3 of the brides as true ladies in waiting (for the service to begin).

The grooms arrive!

So many cute baby boys in 3 piece suits!

Signing the marriage certificates.

The “kids mat”. In the U.S., kids are often absent from weddings or are well hidden. Here, they sit front and center in the middle of the action.

Definitely a packed house!

My new little best friend. I attempted to chat with her in Lubwisi. Unfortunately I ended up saying “ti maanye” a lot which means “I don’t know”.

After taking the vows, they put their hands on each others’ shoulders.

“Slammer”

I have a new nickname. It’s “Slammer”. Anna gave it to me tonight as we found the second rat that I unknowingly slammed to death. I wrote in another post about how I slammed a rat in the bathroom door. Well, tonight when we had 3 teachers from Christ School and Pauline, our friend from Mbarara, over for dinner both Anna and I commented on “the smell of death” coming from our kitchen cabinet. After everyone left we decided to investigate and behold, a rat smushed behind one of the heavy, wooden drawers in our kitchen cabinet. It had begun to decompose…thus the lovely scent.

We can’t be sure I was the one who slammed the drawer on the rat but it’s fairly likely. When given the choice between consciously bludgeoning a rat to death and unknowingly slamming one to death, I’ll take the latter. So, I have the nickname of “Slammer” and Anna gets “Batter” since she is quite experienced at baseball bat extermination. Ahhhh yes…these are the things I don’t think I’ll ever really “get used to”.

A Squishy, Sweaty Ride

This…

…is a matatu. They can be found in droves across East Africa and in Uganda they serve as public transportation for the masses. Normally, I don’t consider myself to be a super high maintenance person. But whenever I board one of these little Japanese-made minivans turned minibus, the high-strung American in me comes out.

I spent quite a few hours on various forms of public transportation last week as Anna and I went to visit friends around southern Uganda. In Africa, there is always room for one more. Or two. Or six. Thank goodness I am a petite person but I sometimes wonder if people assume I can fit in a 4 inch wide space because of my small stature.

So, back to the matatu. These little vans have 4 rows of 3 seats across. Including the driver, front seat, and these rows matatus are licensed to carry 14 passengers. In fact, this is painted on the side of each vehicle. I would say the average matatu has about 20 or more passengers along with a wide variety of cargo, such as giant bunches of bananas, chickens, foam mattresses, and the like.

When in a privately owned car, I love traveling around Uganda. With the windows rolled down, sunglasses on, i-Pod plugged in, and a bit of leg room it can be great fun to see Africa fly by. It is a great way to observe this place while maintaining anonymity (a challenge). Traveling via matatu is a bit less glamorous. Actually, I’m pretty sure there is no glamour.

Shoved between a lady breastfeeding her baby and a man falling asleep on my shoulder. Sweat dripping down my back as my legs stick to the plastic-covered seat. Praying that no one closes the window despite the dust from the dry season road flying in. Feeling saddle sore as we go over yet another set of “humps” (speed bumps) and debating whether to drink water or not, knowing a bathroom is hours away. After about 2 hours, my inner dialogue of complaining has to be let out. I start whining and groaning; Anna and I laugh, otherwise we’d cry as we pull into a petrol station and wonder how long this stop will last.

Rumpled, headachey, dehydrated, and covered in dust we emerge from the matatu. It has been a hot, smushy ride but I’m glad we didn’t break down along the way, as these vehicles on their last legs tend to do. The funny thing is how quickly I manage to forget the misery of the matatu when I see the faces of friends we traveled to see. Being reunited with friends I haven’t seen for nearly a year is so worth a squishy couple of hours! While riding a matatu is not my favorite activity, I am so thankful for the ability to travel around Uganda and for the time spent reconnecting with friends, giving and receiving encouragement, eating good food, and laughing together.

With Bahati, my good friend who is in nursing school in Ishaka.

Anna and I with Pauline, our friend who used to work with Bundi Nutrition.