Friday, September 26, 2008
R.S.V.P.
Please email Dave at kenyaconnection@gmail.com if you would like more information about visas, travel, or accommodation in Nairobi, or to R.S.V.P. for attending the wedding from the U.S.
Reception
Our wedding reception will be held at Jumuia Conference and Country Home in Limuru, Kenya. It is about twenty six kilometers from Nairobi and offers excellent accommodation for out of town guests. For more information, please visit: www.resortjumuia.com/Limuru.html
Monday, September 15, 2008
Negotiating a Dowry / Accepted into the Family
We met two hours early. Dressed in our Sunday best, my team of negotiators and I sat in the empty parking lot of the church compound.
"Envelopes, we need lots of envelopes", my friend Jackson instructed me. I adjusted my tie and made a move toward the car. Jackson had been married for nearly two years. He recounted his experience; the challenges and joys of the first "official visit" and the time of dowry negotiation.
"Are these enough?"
The envelopes were placed neatly on the bench as another team member asked, "Who is her father's representative?"
My fiancee's father would be represented by an elder brother, as per the traditions of the Luo tribe. We weren't sure, but the negotiations could be conducted entirely in Luo, so the seating arrangements for a translator would be important.
"It is important to respect the culture of Siaya and the wishes of her family."
My chief negotiator and our team's elder spokesman was Rev. Lukio Otieno. Rev. Lukio had become a good friend, and as a retired pastor from Western Kenya, his extensive knowledge of Luo culture and language was invaluable. He ran through expected outcomes for our visit and stressed the importance of listening and being willing to honour Lucy's family. After a few more minutes of sharing, we had a time of prayer and headed for the car.
"Have you been shopping yet?", Susan called out as I closed the door.
I had forgotten. When making an official vist, or when visiting after a long period of absence, it is customary to bring household gifts such as flour, oil, milk, and sugar. We would have to make a stop on the way.
Our team traveled to the supermarket and afterwards across Nairobi through the industrial area and to the Remand Prison. Lucy's parents both worked in prison ministry and her father was a prison warden and chaplain. Their family lived in one of the most secure places in Nairobi, inside a large prison complex, side by side with the guards and the black and white jumpsuits worn by the prisoners. This was the home where Lucy had grown up, with her three sisters and one brother, and others who had joined their family in times of need.
After passing through security, we arrived at the house and found a large crowd waiting to welcome us. The uncles were all seated inside. Lucy's father, Martin Amina, was there and the older women began to sing as we entered. After formal introductions, the food was served. We all sat on couches around the center table filled with plates of tender chicken, beef stew, whole tilapia roasted with tomatoes and onions, pilau, chapati, and of course, ugali. Martin told me that as the guest of honor, I should be served first.
During the meal we talked about politics and geography, history and economics, anything and everything except marriage. I was starting to wonder whether the conversation would ever turn. My palms were sweating, my mind spinning; I was tired of waiting and prayed we would enter the official stage soon.
After what seemed an eternity, Lucy's uncle addressed Rev. Lukio, "What brings you here today? I'm told that David has made many visits to this house, but this is the first time he has been so well dressed. What is special about today? What has led you to visit this home at such a time as this?"
Rev. Lukio responded, "There is something in this house that draws us. There is someone in your family that we wish to discuss."
"We have a large family. There are many in this house. Who is it that you wish to discuss?"
"There is a daughter, one who is a friend to David and has become precious in his eyes."
In the Luo tradition, the first official visit begins with food, then with many proverbs and subtle hints, filled with humour and quiet laughter. Finally, a declaration is shared.
At that point, it was almost evening and Lucy was called into the house. We both sat and were asked separately if we desired to marry. Her family inquired of my intentions and after a time of sharing, they all expressed support for our relationship. Then, according to the tradition, her father's spokesman turned to me and asked, "How can you show us that you are serious, that you would like to join our family and marry one of our daughters?"
Rev. Lukio responded on my behalf, "The young man is serious. What sign can he show? How can he demonstrate to you that he is willing and that he is serious? In some places, a chicken is a sign of commitment, in others it is a goat. What is the culture of your people, and what do you desire?”
There was much laughter and joking. Our conversation continued as Lucy left the room. Eventually, according to the custom, the envelopes were shared and the gifts were given. After a cup of tea and maandazis, we joined together in prayer and gave thanks. The team and I said farewell and left the house. The first visit was finished. . .I had been accepted into the family.
"Envelopes, we need lots of envelopes", my friend Jackson instructed me. I adjusted my tie and made a move toward the car. Jackson had been married for nearly two years. He recounted his experience; the challenges and joys of the first "official visit" and the time of dowry negotiation.
"Are these enough?"
The envelopes were placed neatly on the bench as another team member asked, "Who is her father's representative?"
My fiancee's father would be represented by an elder brother, as per the traditions of the Luo tribe. We weren't sure, but the negotiations could be conducted entirely in Luo, so the seating arrangements for a translator would be important.
"It is important to respect the culture of Siaya and the wishes of her family."
My chief negotiator and our team's elder spokesman was Rev. Lukio Otieno. Rev. Lukio had become a good friend, and as a retired pastor from Western Kenya, his extensive knowledge of Luo culture and language was invaluable. He ran through expected outcomes for our visit and stressed the importance of listening and being willing to honour Lucy's family. After a few more minutes of sharing, we had a time of prayer and headed for the car.
"Have you been shopping yet?", Susan called out as I closed the door.
I had forgotten. When making an official vist, or when visiting after a long period of absence, it is customary to bring household gifts such as flour, oil, milk, and sugar. We would have to make a stop on the way.
Our team traveled to the supermarket and afterwards across Nairobi through the industrial area and to the Remand Prison. Lucy's parents both worked in prison ministry and her father was a prison warden and chaplain. Their family lived in one of the most secure places in Nairobi, inside a large prison complex, side by side with the guards and the black and white jumpsuits worn by the prisoners. This was the home where Lucy had grown up, with her three sisters and one brother, and others who had joined their family in times of need.
After passing through security, we arrived at the house and found a large crowd waiting to welcome us. The uncles were all seated inside. Lucy's father, Martin Amina, was there and the older women began to sing as we entered. After formal introductions, the food was served. We all sat on couches around the center table filled with plates of tender chicken, beef stew, whole tilapia roasted with tomatoes and onions, pilau, chapati, and of course, ugali. Martin told me that as the guest of honor, I should be served first.
During the meal we talked about politics and geography, history and economics, anything and everything except marriage. I was starting to wonder whether the conversation would ever turn. My palms were sweating, my mind spinning; I was tired of waiting and prayed we would enter the official stage soon.
After what seemed an eternity, Lucy's uncle addressed Rev. Lukio, "What brings you here today? I'm told that David has made many visits to this house, but this is the first time he has been so well dressed. What is special about today? What has led you to visit this home at such a time as this?"
Rev. Lukio responded, "There is something in this house that draws us. There is someone in your family that we wish to discuss."
"We have a large family. There are many in this house. Who is it that you wish to discuss?"
"There is a daughter, one who is a friend to David and has become precious in his eyes."
In the Luo tradition, the first official visit begins with food, then with many proverbs and subtle hints, filled with humour and quiet laughter. Finally, a declaration is shared.
At that point, it was almost evening and Lucy was called into the house. We both sat and were asked separately if we desired to marry. Her family inquired of my intentions and after a time of sharing, they all expressed support for our relationship. Then, according to the tradition, her father's spokesman turned to me and asked, "How can you show us that you are serious, that you would like to join our family and marry one of our daughters?"
Rev. Lukio responded on my behalf, "The young man is serious. What sign can he show? How can he demonstrate to you that he is willing and that he is serious? In some places, a chicken is a sign of commitment, in others it is a goat. What is the culture of your people, and what do you desire?”
There was much laughter and joking. Our conversation continued as Lucy left the room. Eventually, according to the custom, the envelopes were shared and the gifts were given. After a cup of tea and maandazis, we joined together in prayer and gave thanks. The team and I said farewell and left the house. The first visit was finished. . .I had been accepted into the family.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Meet the Parents
Dave first met Lucy's parents in June 2007. After some initial anxiety, Dave's tension melted over a cup of chai and a comical conversation about American culture. Martin and Sophia Amina been wonderfully supportive of the engagement and are excited to welcome a new son into the family. They both hail from Western Kenya, but currently reside in Nairobi.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
"THE BENCH"
For those of us who go to traditional Anglican Churches, we are familiar with the pews. And all Sundays are usually almost the same; you go to Church and even without noticing it, you end up at the same spot where you normally sit and after a short while it feels like you own the place and when someone else sits on YOUR SPOT!!!!!!!! you smile at them on the surface but underneath, you are actually breathing fire and brimstone!! Are you one of those people who is partof the worship team? and it just so happens that all of you always scram for the same row and when you get displaced oh my, you feel like you've been banished from planet earth to Venus and it's hot out there even though you've just moved to the row behind THE ONE (worship team row).
Well on April the 29th 2007, tragedy befel me. I ( a dedicated worship team member ) was displaced from THE BENCH, where all good members like me sit. so like a banished child i moved to the row behind, it felt like someone pushed me really hard. I had to swallow my pride like a wounded soldier and and lie low( move to the bench behind before i caused a sceen).
Now right next to me was a certain young man that I usually saw at church. I had never spoken to him though I thought he was handsome, but it would be an abomination for a girl Like me, tee hee, to go introduce my self and start chatting to a stranger, my oh my,what would people say of the good old me and the well behaved worship team ooh no! no! the pain and horror of what it would do to our good name. It is unthinkable, not proper at all!! and i hope you know i'm just kidding, I was just being a snob.
Anyways, when I sat next to Him, suddenly the anger started Going away, I looked at him and smiled, he smiled right back and by the time we were sharing peace ( we do the handshake here in Africa), I wanted me a piece of Him, OOOPS sorry, I meant I felt like I wanted to know him more. The interesting bit about it all is that as we sat on that bench and smiled back and forth at each other, alittle voice asked me, " wouldn't it be nice if he was your Husband?" at this point I thougt I was crazy and completely brushed the voice off because I thought it was my mind being silly but as i look back at the things that happen after that I can't help but feel that it was the Holy spirit that spoke to me on that Day.
Funny how you never imagine meeting your future spouse on the pew.After lots of heart breaks, tears and lonliness and finally giving up ( exactly two weeks before I sat next to him I told God that I was tired of searching,i told Him I wouldn't look anymore and that He could do as he pleased with my life) what I was looking sooooooo hard for, was right under my nose. Miracles still do happen. Thank God for my MIRACLE.
Well on April the 29th 2007, tragedy befel me. I ( a dedicated worship team member ) was displaced from THE BENCH, where all good members like me sit. so like a banished child i moved to the row behind, it felt like someone pushed me really hard. I had to swallow my pride like a wounded soldier and and lie low( move to the bench behind before i caused a sceen).
Now right next to me was a certain young man that I usually saw at church. I had never spoken to him though I thought he was handsome, but it would be an abomination for a girl Like me, tee hee, to go introduce my self and start chatting to a stranger, my oh my,what would people say of the good old me and the well behaved worship team ooh no! no! the pain and horror of what it would do to our good name. It is unthinkable, not proper at all!! and i hope you know i'm just kidding, I was just being a snob.
Anyways, when I sat next to Him, suddenly the anger started Going away, I looked at him and smiled, he smiled right back and by the time we were sharing peace ( we do the handshake here in Africa), I wanted me a piece of Him, OOOPS sorry, I meant I felt like I wanted to know him more. The interesting bit about it all is that as we sat on that bench and smiled back and forth at each other, alittle voice asked me, " wouldn't it be nice if he was your Husband?" at this point I thougt I was crazy and completely brushed the voice off because I thought it was my mind being silly but as i look back at the things that happen after that I can't help but feel that it was the Holy spirit that spoke to me on that Day.
Funny how you never imagine meeting your future spouse on the pew.After lots of heart breaks, tears and lonliness and finally giving up ( exactly two weeks before I sat next to him I told God that I was tired of searching,i told Him I wouldn't look anymore and that He could do as he pleased with my life) what I was looking sooooooo hard for, was right under my nose. Miracles still do happen. Thank God for my MIRACLE.
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