Woke at 6, thanking the Lord for a beautiful, bright day. Yesterday… a continuous downpour, cloudy, wet, muddy. Today we needed sunshine. My hair, still wet from having slept on it all night. I carefully wrap it, clipping it back at the nape of my neck… and pull out my dress to iron.
Twelve weddings. Three of my employees will marry today. I received a hand-written invitation on Wednesday, ‘Para Directora Julia’ written neatly on a square of it, it being a sheet of notebook paper folded into six perfect little squares. Very sweet, a proper invitation to the weddings of M and Zec, former gardeners, present pre-school teachers, forever brothers.
Lee and I wait for days alongside the road, hoping for a chapa (public transport vehicle) to pass us by. I stoop on the side of the pavement, drawing circles in the dirt. We are getting nowhere. It is Easter.
Walking, flailing our arms at any passing vehicle, we hitch a lift within seconds. I am grateful that the driver is not transporting cattle. Who knows what we would smell or look like after 20 minutes in the bed of a truck w/animals and their dung.
We stop near a group of men selling charcoal. As our vehicle slows, they rush towards us, their faces hidden by the large, ash covered bulky bags that they hold preciously, precariously in their arms. They are eager for a sale. We quickly disappoint them by the shakes of our heads. We are here for a wedding.
With a point of their hands, we are lead in the direction of the Catholic Church. The ground here is sandy, not like the red clay dirt that covers our compound and makes its way into all of our homes. The homes are closer together, unlike the stretch of gardens, fields and bush that separate all our neighbors here. Yards are swept. We are greeted by all as we walk by. Lives are lived outdoors, so everyone is outside.
The wedding ceremony/church service/Easter celebration is just short of 4 hours long. (Knowing this would happen, I had an extra large serving of oatmeal and a crepe for breakfast). Dancing, prayer, song, a liturgy… The event is held under a canopy of mango trees. Absolutely beautiful.
There’s an American/Western feel to the day. White dresses, nice suits. Upon further observation though: brides wear 80s pumps with Nike ankle height running socks, borrowed dresses aren’t fit properly, white blouses are seen underneath. A beautiful thing. Beautiful that there’s a celebration. Beautiful that it doesn’t matter if the perfect shoes were found, if the dress fits just right. It just doesn’t matter.
Most of these couples have been together for years. In a country coming out of war and incredible devastation, proper wedding ceremonies weren’t on the list of priorities. People were just married. Now, churches are recognizing the importance of it.
The couples are each given a ring during the ceremony. I’ve noticed them on my employees hands all week, completely love them. They have betrothed themselves to one individual for the rest of their lives. Amen amen.
The ceremony ends. The newly married couples are ushered into the oblong brick church building with tiny windows and a thatch roof. Lee and I wait outside. The master of ceremonies spots us, welcoming us in to join the newlyweds. We are seated at the head table and eat chicken and rice with the residing bishop and a brother of the church. Honored guests.
The remaining hours fill with home visits, picture taking, more eating and cokes. Lee and I walk the 6 kilometers home. It has been a full day. We are just in time for dessert.
Hoping that you all had a blessed full Easter,
Julie
—
Julie Fredrick
Mozambique, Africa
(contribution news)
Checks made out to:
BETHEL CHURCH
In the memo: MC-55
Send to: BETHEL CHURCH, 933 College View Drive, Redding, CA 96003
A Day in Mozambique 