Traditional Herero Wedding

Imagine a weekend-long campout with all of your favorite people. That's about the simplest way I can describe a traditional Herero wedding. 😄 On the Friday, everybody started trickling into the bride's village throughout the day. Those on the bride's side set up their tents around the main house. The groom and the groom's guests set up their camps a little distance away. Guests are not allowed to cross over and visit those on the other side, at least not yet.

I had only arrived back in the country at about 2:30 Friday afternoon. I quickly got cleaned up, unpacked and repacked my suitcase, then was out of the house by 5:00 to go pick up my suits and those people I was giving a lift. I had no idea where we were going, so we convoyed up with another car. However, they proceeded to stop at every town along the way, and one guy even stopped to get a haircut at 9:30 at night. 🤦 We finally arrived at the village at 12:30am, but still found most people awake and chilling around the fire. In the bright moonlight, we found a nice tree next to the riverbed where we set up camp.

The first 'event' on Saturday morning was the bride's family bringing us a small cow to feed the groom and his guests. They led it with a rope tied to one of its back legs. Ordinarily I was told they just let it go and we would have to catch it, but this family was very gracious and they just handed over the rope. The guys then held it down and slaughtered it. They had gathered a certain kind of branches on which they laid out the pieces to dry before they were cooked.

Next up, we exchanged some of the meat. The bride's family brought us a rack of ribs, and we sent them back ribs with a shoulder. This is supposed to symbolize how in Genesis 2 the woman was made from a rib of the man.

At this point, all the groomsmen were told to suit up, because we never knew when the bride's family would call for us. A little while later, after they had cooked the meat, they called, so us groomsmen escorted the groom from our camp to the bride's house. We all surrounded the groom and walked very slowly with our heads down from the gate of their yard up to the front door of their house. He went inside alone and they ate the rib together. Afterward, we met him at the front door and escorted him back with the same slow walk.

By now everyone else was starting to put on their fancy wedding attire in preparation for the main event. Naturally, this provided for plenty of photo ops.

The traditional Herero dress for women incorporates both the Victorian influence of the original missionaries as well as their livestock culture. The headdress, called otjikaiva (pronounced oshi-kai-va), is patterned after cow horns. Their dresses are bulked up by many underlayers and a padding on the back side. When wearing the dress they are supposed to walk slowly, with almost a little waddle that mimics how cattle walk.

Meanwhile, the men all wear hats and carry a "stick" (a cane). The groom wears a white scarf underneath his hat to distinguish him from the other men. For the groomsmen, our sticks couldn't touch the ground all weekend.

In the Herero tradition, the bride is shut up in a room in her family's house for days before the wedding. No one actually sees her except her few attendants helping her with food and getting dressed. She even wears a thick veil over her head and she's not supposed to look at or speak with anyone. The main event on Saturday afternoon is the only time she actually comes out. She was entirely surrounded by her 18 bridesmaids. Still covered with her veil, she clung to the back of the lady walking in front of her, so still no one saw much of her. All the women stood in a crescent around the campfire singing exuberantly, while all the men sat in the shade and watched. Led by some elder ladies stomping and singing, the bridal party paraded very slowly around the fire, then returned to the house. The whole process took all of 15 minutes.

Then a few elder ladies from the groom's side came and took a piece of meat from the bride's family's pot. This symbolizes that the families are now together. Only after this are guests from each side allowed to mingle with those in the other camp.

After this, everybody just chills around their campfires, eating, drinking, dancing, smoking, playing games, or whatever they do. Then late at night, around 11pm or so, the groomsmen once again escort the groom to the bride's house. They "sneak" him into the bride's room where the two will spend the night laying fully clothed next to each other in the same bed. An older auntie or grandmother is nearby as a bit of a 'chaperone.' Then before sunrise, around 4am or so, the groomsmen go back and "sneak" him out. I put sneak in quotes because it's part of the pomp and ceremony. Everyone knows it's happening. It's part of the tradition.

Then on Sunday morning "we go get our wife." The Herero culture is more communalistic than individualistic. So the bride's family is giving their daughter to be part of the groom's family. That's why they use the plural, now she is "ours" as in, part of our family.

The whole groom's party parades over to the bride's house in their cars. Most wait outside while a small group of family members escort the groom inside the house where the elders give their last words of advice to the new couple.

As the new couple exits the house together for the first time, still surrounded with their heads down, the wife still covered in her veil against the back of a woman in front of her, now the party ensues. There is exuberant shouting, singing, and dancing as everyone crowds around them on the way back to the cars. The couple gets into the back seat of a nice truck and then we parade, honking our car horns, back to the groom's tent. And now they're married!

Now he will take her back to his family village, but for us the party is over. We pack up camp and head back home hoping to get enough sleep before Monday morning comes way too early. 😂

Extravagant Love

"I want to live like I know what I'm leaving" (lyric from Switchfoot's Awakening). Leaving is a potent reality for someone living abroad. Sometimes I am leaving the States to come to Namibia, or leaving Namibia for the States. Whichever side I am on, I'm missing out on what's happening on the other side, weddings, funerals, birthdays, reunions, etc.

That's why, when I heard that my good friend's wife suddenly passed away, I was thankful to be able to go spend some time with him. To be honest, I'm not that spontaneous of a person. I had my plan for the next 2 weeks, events to attend and class to teach. Plus, it's really far and plane tickets are expensive. But looking at my schedule, there actually wasn't that much that I would have to reschedule. And what else do we have money for if not for loving people better?! So within 3 days I had booked a flight and a rental car, got a covid test, packed a suitcase, and hopped on a plane.

I arrived at the funeral only about 15 minutes late, just in time to hear my friend share. I spent the next week basically tagging along with him and his 3-year-old son, chipping in wherever I could help. I was encouraged by how much community he had around him through church, friends, and his wife’s family. But it will still be a daunting task learning how to do life and raise their son without her.

Then after catching up with a few other friends, I went home to visit fam and enjoy New Hampshire in the Fall. Despite the primary reason for going back, it was good to be there and visit with friends and family. Little did I know, a dark cloud was about to descend on an otherwise good trip.

Meeting up with old friends	Enjoying Fall in New Hampshire

We woke up at 2:30am to drive down to Boston to catch my early flight out. As I was checking in they told me my passport needed 6 months validity in order to enter Namibia. Mine would expire in 3 months, so I couldn't board the plane. I had no idea that was an entry requirement because it had never applied to me before. So now I would need a new passport in order to go back.

Ordinarily, one applies for a passport renewal through the mail and it can take up to 14 weeks. You can pay extra to expedite and get it back within 10 weeks. Then lastly, there is an emergency travel option which can get you a day-of renewal, but the earliest appointment I could get wasn't for 2 weeks. I was supposed to be a groomsman in a wedding the next weekend, which I would now have to miss. I was devastated. This trip that was supposed to be a loving opportunity to be there for my friend would now forever be remembered for causing me to not be there for my other friend. I was frustrated at myself for not knowing that requirement, and I was frustrated with God for knowing and allowing me to get stuck in this situation anyway!

As I was depressed and sulky all Monday afternoon, I started processing these events to see what God had for me to learn through them. God doesn't always answer the 'why' question. Or sometimes we may only get a partial answer. As I laid in bed that night, grieving losing out on attending this wedding, I was reminded of something my other friend had said after the loss of his wife. He said that theologically he knew all the truths about God's sovereignty and His perfect plan, but at the moment he didn't feel like it. It still sucked that his wife was gone. At the time I had a hard time relating because for me, I try to let what I know lead my feelings. But now I found myself (on a much smaller scale!) with a similar dilemma. I know God is in control and this whole thing is part of His plan, but it would still suck to miss the wedding. So this process of grieving the loss of the wedding helped me in a small way understand my friend better who was grieving the loss of his wife.

But God wasn't done yet. The next morning I decided I would exhaust every possible option to make it to this wedding before I gave up on it entirely. So I called the office of my state representative to the U.S. Senate. Now of course, I'm just one little, insignificant constituent, so why would my little problem matter to her. Her office clearly has much bigger things to worry about. But I thought, let me just try. So I called the office, explained my situation, and within hours they had gotten me an appointment to renew my passport the very next day!

I woke up early to make the hour drive to the Passport Agency Office, and showed up 30 minutes early for my appointment. This was the last appointment I would want to be late to! I got my new passport in hand by 2:00pm and started calling the airline to rebook my flight. After hours of being either on hold or finally reaching someone but having a bad connection, by 7:00pm I had a flight booked for 5:45am the next morning. Now instead of the dark cloud, this whole trip would be remember for God's providential answer to prayer in allowing me to be back to Namibia in time for the wedding!

Which brings me back to a Switchfoot lyric coming through the radio on my drive home from the passport office. "I want to live like I know what I'm leaving." I could easily have stayed home, not been spontaneous, and stuck with the original plan. I could have talked to my friend on the phone instead. After all, he's in the States and most of my life is in Namibia now. But I don't want to harden myself to people and life just so it hurts less when I have to leave. I want to invest with extravagant love, like flying halfway across the world to spend time with my friend. Sure it hurts when you miss people, either when they leave or you leave. But that heartache means you have loved well. So go out and love with extravagance, feel all the feels, so you can say, 'Yes, I have lived and loved so well that I know exactly what I'm leaving.'