Attending a funeral remains to this point one of the most shocking and unique experience I have had in Cape Verde. When there is a death in the family, the body of the deceased is kept within the household for 24 hours during which family and friends are permitted to come and pay their last respects. I remember clearly walking into my neighbor’s house, overflowing with sympathetic and grieving loved ones who had come from near and far to mourn their loss. It is by no means a quiet and conservative process. Masses of women dressed in black scream, yell, chant, beat their fists into the air and in their almost hypnosis of anguish, lose consciousness as others rush to their assistance. Entering the home, I could not help but feel less than at ease, unsure of how to act. As I turned the corner, entering into the empty room were the deceased had been lain, the suppressing air was surprisingly alleviated. The father of my friend lay in his coffin, a lace cloth draped over his face and his hands embracing the wooden cross of the rosary lightly placed around his neck, his coffin surrounded by glowing candles. As I stood in that room alone peering over who was practically a stranger, hearing those unforgettable wails of sorrow from outside, I was overcome by a different feeling. I had always expected being in the presence of death would be morbid and disconcerting, however in contrast, the moment was marked by a sense of peace. This man had seen things I may never see and experienced things I may never experience. He lived and died in a world completely different from my own, one which had remained entirely separate until now.
This week I experienced another wedding, this time quite different from the first. After being in a committed relationship for almost 15 years, Ivanira and George decided to legalize their union with marriage. The wedding celebration began on Sunday with the “Festa de Lenha”. The whole community gathered together in a procession toward the couple’s house baring bundles of firewood on our heads. The older women carried immense quantities of thick firewood balancing them above their heads, while in the same manner, the children (and me) carried smaller bundles of twigs and sticks above our heads. We marched down to the home of George and Ivanira waving colorful banners, balancing our gifts, and singing the festive “Musica de Bencao” or the blessing song in which a verse is sung to bless close friends and members of family, after which we respond with “oh la le le le, oh la le le le”. ( When I heard my name during this blessing song, a feeling of warmth came over me as I was overcome with gratitude and a sense of acceptance)The whole event was a festive display of music and colors as we sang along with men strumming their ukuleles and banners danced through the air. Thursday was the “Festa de Trocha”, again family, friends and community members marched through the street carrying gifts of food: bundles of green bananas, baskets of bread, kilos of potatoes and yams. These offerings of wood and provisions, are meant as contributions to help during the wedding reception. Friday was the “Festa de Presente”. One last time, we gathered together, paraded through the street singing and displaying our banners until we reached their home where we presented the couple with our wedding gifts. Following the procession was a reception at the mother of the groom’s house, Mae Clarinha. While she has twelve children of her own, as her nickname suggests, she is sort of a mother to the whole community. She is a constant display of hospitality, warmth and friendship to everyone who passes through.
Despite dancing all night, everyone woke up early and by 7am the women were gathering together on their verandas to begin painting their nails and preparing their elaborate hairdos. The traditional Catholic ceremony began around 10:30 and lasted about three hours. During the closing procession, the “companhas” or wedding party, form an archway of arms for the bride and groom to exit. I was a companha however I am an American as well, so I was unaware of this custom and quietly slipped out of the chapel early to take pictures of Ivanira and George as they exited. As I was taking pictures of rice flying through the air and people applauding the newly wed couple descending the staircase, my “par”, Kode was frantically searching for me since I was his other set of arms to create the archway. He was a little upset with me for making him miss the archway procession at his sister’s wedding, but he quickly forgot about it as the reception began. The wedding party piled into a caravan of hiaces which then filled the streets honking and creating a commotion to celebrate the couple’s new love. Upon returning, the bride and groom were kidnapped (another tradition) and taken to an undisclosed location during which guests ate their fill of feijaoda and goat stew. Eventually the couple was safely returned, and despite continual rain and blackouts our elation held strong as we continued dancing through the night.
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