marriage

In North Pentecost, there are two main tribes: Tabi and Bule. The tribal designation passes down the matriline and may or may not have to do with land...we've never really gotten a clear answer...But it's deeply embedded in the culture. A tabi must marry a bule (and vice versa) and the resulting children will follow the mother's line . I am a tabi (my host mom is a tabi) and Lucas is a bule (his host mom is a bule) and our kids will be tabi(they follow me, their mom). Our girl children will have to marry a bule and all her children will be tabi again...Our boy children would have to marry Bule but his children will all now be bule following their mother's line. It gets more complicated, but that's beyond the scope of this blog entry and our comprehension.

Where this becomes most apparent is around weddings or "marrieds". This last January, two men, from a family we are close to, got married. Weddings are a BIG deal on Pentecost and it is not uncommon for them to happen in stages. It is also not uncommon for more than one couple to get married at the same time. Both these men have been together with their partners for a while and they each have kids already. One of the men is a follower of the Ward fellowship, a small apocalypse-focused christian american church that despises Kastom. But, Kastom is STRONG on pentecost around certain things and Marrieds are one of them. He did not have a choice in the matter.

The following vignettes are brief sketches of the week long married:

Baratoa
Baratoa Rocks! During the married week, the tribe of the bride gets to throw things at the tribe of the groom. In this case, the grooms were bule. So that means, me, as a tabi, got to throw water, finely grated banana, mud, and anything I wanted for as long as I wanted at any bule I saw. It just so happens that most of my pals and my husband are bule! I ended up teaming up with muana (see picture), another tabi, and we were a baratoa machine! No one was spared--it was so much fun! I baratoaed so well, that the family of the grooms gave me a red mat.

Why two years in the Peace Corps makes sense
Marrieds on Pentecost. like in most cultures, involve the whole family. Here, family systems are intact. Strong surges of urban migration have not hit Vanuatu yet so it's not uncommon to see a great- grandmother looking after her great granchild while her daughter and grand daughter go to the garden. I love that about this place.

One of the traditions for marrieds is that there are different work teams to get everything in place. Remember, these folks are feeding hundreds of people without electricity or supermarkets. There's a work team for firewood, for taro, for lap lap leaves, for white stones (stones used for baking), for slaughtering animals, for harvesting kava, etc. It's absolutely incredible to watch.

I loved seeing all the different groups come down because they were arranged in family groups, and now, I know most of the families. My papa's family came down carrying firewood. They are beautiful: Sinuous , Strong, Black. I've never seen all the men together like that and the family line was clear and evident. This same experience happened with all the different work parties and I understood why two years makes sense for Peace Corps Service.

I know these people. I've played with their children and eaten at their kitchens and probably charged their phones. I've sang with them at church and slipped on the same paths they do on the way to the garden. I know who has had affairs with who and whose relationships are riddled with violence. I've been angry and hurt by people here as well as loved and supported. In short, my heart has given itself to Pentecost a little more each month (for better or for worse) and I can't imagine the richness of experience if it wasn't for two years. And, of course, it makes me appreciate my own family spread across two continents and my chosen family of friends that have supported Lucas and I through this time.

Longo Party
I complain to Lucas about how the culture here is so much like Junior High and how it drives me crazy eighty percent of the time. But, in the important emotional life cycles of family life, the folks here have it down.

A longo party is the last longo (lap lap in the local language language. Lap Lap is a pudding made from root vegetables baked in an earth oven with coconut cream on top) you have with the bride and the groom respectively at their home nakamal.

The bride will be leaving her village and going to live at her husband's village with her husband's family. In this case, Judy, whose longo party we went to, only lives a twenty five minute walk away to her husband's village; but sometimes, it's really far away and you might not see your daughter for a long time.

Anyways, the whole village and all the bride's friends gather together to tell her goodbye and give her a small present. It's what a bachelor/bachelorette party should be, but somehow is not anymore. The chief and community leaders give speeches and everyone lines up to shake the brides hand and cry with her. These are people that have changed Judy's diapers and watched her go through her awkward phase. These are the children, now grown-ups, who swam naked with her in the ocean and waited to hear if she passed to the next grade on the radio with her. In short, this is most everyone that's loved her with all their hearts and who she loves, too. One by one they line up to shake her hand, hug her, and cry with her for as long as feels right...they are letting Judy go as their relationship with Judy will change after she gets married.

Marriage, of course, is a happy and wonderful thing, but it's also really really sad. At my own wedding, I didn't have a longo party--instead, I found myself crying in a ditch by a turkey processing factory in rural Ohio with my amazing cousin, Michelle. It's not that I didn't want to get married to Lucas (quite the opposite), it's that I was sad to change the relational position in the lives of my friends and family--I was mourning that change. Instead of having an event designated for that mourning where you eat lap lap that's prepared with love, I mourned around turkey feathers and old cigarette butts.
American life makes it difficult to gather all those people in one place and the bachelor/ette party isn't quite the same. I can suggest a "longo" party to my soon to be married friends/family who have a sentimental streak.