Muhammed and Anne's wedding

Last Saturday, I attended Otman’s friend, Muhammed’s, wedding. Muhammed, who is Lebanese, married a French woman, Anne, who has been living in Dakar for three years. Muhammed has lived here for about eight years. What struck me about the wedding was the utter lack of Senegalese guests. There was only one Senegalese couple in attendance who sat with the Anne’s family. The other Senegalese folks present were either cameramen or waiters.

The lack of Senegalese present illustrates the insularity of the expatriate community, especially the Lebanese community. There is a huge Lebanese community in Dakar. They own much of the industry and big restaurants in the region. The company that Otman works for, P..., is owned by Lebanese men and they make up the majority of the supervisors. It is very difficult for Senegalese people to gain management positions, even if they are overqualified for the job. I often find myself wondering if this is an opaque form of colonialism, where racism and other methods of discrimination rule the job market.

Aside from the lack of Senegalese guests, other interesting aspects of the wedding were the dancing, the presence of a mangy wandering dog, the photographers, and the enormous bug that got stuck in my shawl. This wedding was a typical Lebanaese wedding regardless of Anne’s origins. The dancing, traditional Lebanese dancing, resembles the horah, done in Jewish celebrations. Everyone holds hands and dances in a circle. There are certain steps that must be performed in order to propel the motion of the circle. Everyone takes two steps to the right and on the third step, they cross their right foot over their left in a stomping motion. As simple as this sounds, I stepped on the foot of the person next to me twice. Quickly recognizing my ineptitude, I assumed my usual role of photographer and stayed out of the way.

The dog, a typical Saharan wild dog with a nasty skin disease kept circling the pool, around which the dinner tables were placed. During the meal, the dog parked itself under the table next to mine and scratched itself silly. In addition, the dog barked a few times during the course of the party, only once at an inappropriate time, during Anne’s entrance.

The bride’s entrance is very important. Generally for Muslim weddings, the couple signs wedding papers stipulating the terms of their marriage (much like a pre-nuptial) in the presence of a religious leader, a mufti. Later on, days later or hours later, the couple celebrates their marriage at a reception. The groom and his family arrive before the bride to greet the guests (in this case, we waited two hours for the bride to arrive). The guests mill about drinking juice and eating hors d’oeuvres until they are told to take a seat in preparation for the bride’s arrival. When the bride enters, she makes a grand entrance that felt like a beauty pageant contestant walking across a stage. What was interesting about the bride’s entrance was that she was wearing a white wedding gown, a veil, and gloves and was accompanied by two women who acted the role of flower girls. There was music and the bride strolled in, careful not to fall into the pool or slip on the flower petals. The groom took her arm and they walked in front of the tables where the guests were sitting. They did a complete tour of the tables, while people clapped and chanted (and the dog barked). It was not like the somber procession of brides in a church, although the white dress and flower girls were clearly borrowed from that tradition; this was a celebration of a union. A cross-cultural and multi-faith union at that.

During the entire wedding, cameramen were snapping pictures, paparazzi-style. Since I do not know the couple well, I felt awkward being photographed. The cameramen, who must have assumed that I was close to the bride because of my skin color, took many pictures of my table. I felt extremely conspicuous and embarrassed. Toward the end of the wedding, the photographers displayed their photographs on a table for the guests to purchase. I was impressed with the speed of which the pictures were developed and their subsequent quality. Otman bought a bunch of them, one of us is very funny, since it looks like I am scolding him by waggling by finger. He has placed another picture (not very flattering) of us and the bride and groom in his living room for all of his visitors to see.

Then, to end the night, there was the big nasty bug. I am not someone who is afraid of bugs. At Chez Alpha, Awa alerts me to the presence of an unusually large cockroach, grasshopper, or unidentifiable flying creature, for me to dispose of. Bugs do not bother me at all. However, this monster was caught between my shawl and my back and began to climb all over me, digging its prickly legs into my flesh. As I began to wiggle around trying to free myself from it’s grasp, the photographers began thrusting new pictures at me to buy. They mustn’t have noticed that I was under a covert attack or else they just assumed that I was just a crazy toubab swatting at herself and trying to undress in public. Finally Otman realized my distress and freed me of my shawl. What emerged was a yellow and black flying insect that was approximately four inches by two inches. I flung it into the bushes and asked Otman to take me home.

Below is a video I took of the dancing. You can see the bride, Anne, in her wedding dress. The groom, Muhammed, is the fourth person in line wearing a suit and a blue tie.