Circumcision Celebration

Wow. That was an experience, on so many levels. From wonderful to suffocating to interesting to disturbing. We had Teacher Peter as our body guard. By way of muscles, he's not much, but no one messes with you when you "move", as they say, with a local.

We reached Masata, the ancient tribal area, around 3:45. The drums had been calling since 2:00, but the action had not yet begun. People milled around, sold food and drinks (mainly home brewed alcohol), and sat patiently under the shade of the banana leaves. Nothing to special but for the long drum suspended between two tiny but tall trees in the middle of the field. I swear we create a spectacle everywhere we go. And this was only the beginning…So, everybody stared at us while we all waited for the "candidates", those who had been circumcised in December or August of the previous year, to arrive. Before I knew it there were loud shouts, long sticks bounding through the tops of banana trees, and a frantic scurry of onlookers (including ourselves. When everyone around you screams and runs back and your "body guard" says move back! They could throw stones! You move back). The candidates and co. had arrived.

They rushed the staging area from the east (signaling passage from boy to man), circling around the drum singing and running, beating their long sticks on the ground as they went and shaking them in the air. Each wore the traditional Bugisu (the tribe) "costume" for the circumcision "closing cerimonies": a cow hide (and boy, did it ever smell like it) tied around the shoulders and a thick wreath of green vine around their necks. The vines represent good luck and are given to them by people who bring gifts. On the bottom they of course wore shorts. I asked what they wore before shorts existed. Dominique said nothing. I could see how that would be appropriate for a celebration that was about 1) passing into manhood and 2) demonstrating you are now ready for sex. Anciently the painted sticks were to attract women and when the dancing was over, they men would grab the first woman they saw and take her home as his wife…or to bed. I'm still not sure which it really was. Of course, this is no longer the case, although there were two men there who tried to barter with Teacher Peter to buy Julie and I. He told them we were too expensive and one goat would not cut it. I was like one goat?! How about a thousand cows! The dance was a stomping of feet, bending forward and back and lifting the cow skin over their shoulders – most likely to show their manhood. This was my guess. :) All the while chanting about their rite of passage. Men, women, children all danced around that drum for the next 2 hours. One drunk women even tried to get me to join in the fun. Nothin' doin'.

It is an interesting situation. Here we are, whites, so we already stand out. And then you have a camera. This is where the craziness ensues. Anytime the camera comes out, the children seem to multiply exponentially. I wonder if I will ever be able to just observe these people. It seems that wherever we go, WE are the spectacle. Never mind that there is this huge dancing, running throng in the middle of a field that only happens once every two years – over there is a Mzungu with a camera. Let's go stare at that. It is suffocating.

There were moments when I wanted to yell "GO AWAY!" It's intense to have 40 children (I counted) pressing in around you…and into you. They were staring like we were twins joined at the head. I love them. They are darling. It gets really old really quickly. I would move 10 feet…40 children would move 10 feet. Wash, rinse, repeat. Peter said they had never seen a white person before. At first I found this hard to believe, but from the way they were suffocating us, I think it might be true.

I don't think I will ever get to just observe. When you take out a camera, everyone throngs, everyone poses, no one smiles. Everyone is staring at you. AT first it was cute…but yesterday…especially with 4 white people…it was more than any of us could handle.

It was fascinating. It was cultural. It was eye-opening. It makes me sad that I interrupt whatever is taking place just by being there. It was still the most rockin' awesome experience. :)