Hopital Ste. Croix

A Haitian wedding is very much like an American one, but it is sooo different! One of our translators invited John and me to his wedding. It’s the first one we have been to in Haiti. It started at 6:00 pm so we arrived at about 5:50. It was a lucky thing that we arrived then, for unlike anything else in Haiti, it started on time. When we arrived, there were 3 or 4 ladies standing around outside in wedding dresses. But we only saw two men who looked like a groom, including the one who had invited us. There were 4 groomsmen and 4 bridesmaids, . . But I am getting ahead of myself.

We took some pictures of the wedding party, then went in and sat down. Instead of nice, quiet organ music, there was a too loud tape of dance band noise. Then the procession started..

First to enter was a single girl in a bridal dress and bouquet, accompanied by a junior bridesmaid. This wasn’t the bride I had come to see, however. And instead of processing, the bride did an intricate stepping and turning and walking sideways routine that reminded me of Texas line dancing. She took several minutes to inch her way towards the front. Although the junior bridesmaid started much later than this bride, the junior bridesmaid arrived at the front of the church first. She collided with the line dancing bride as they passed. Neither acknowledged the other’s presence.

Next came the 4 bridesmaids and groomsmen. They were dressed alike, and were obviously a group. They came in all together, but they also did a very intricate choreographed routine, with the bridesmaids setting their bouquets on the floor, dancing off, and the groomsmen picking them up and dancing over to the bridesmaids and bowing and presenting the bouquets, spinning slowly, doing a coy do-si-do, and inching their way forward.

But the procession, already about 20 minutes long, isn’t finished yet. A second bride looking person came dancing in but this time with a groom. More dancing, turning, etc.

After everyone was in the front, the groomsmen and bridesmaids made an arch with their arms. Two young children, a flower girl with no flowers, and a ring bearer with no ring, solemnly marched in. These children are not like American children, however. They knew what they were supposed to do, and that it was important, and they did it faithfully and without timidity-or smiling. Then finally, the bride and either her mother or her maid of honor marched in together, followed by the groom and probably his best man or father. All went under the arch of hands rather like a Virginia Reel, and sat down in 4 chairs at the base of the steps to the communion table, facing each other. The children sat on the steps facing the congregation, where they sat for the next hour and a half, never moving, never fidgeting, never smiling.

I haven’t mentioned the building. It is a church, made of brick with wooden rafters and tin roof. Instead of windows, there are sections of open brickwork to allow ventilation. But it is hot, hot, as the building has been sitting in strong sun all day, and there has been no breeze.

There also is no electricity. The processional music was loud because it needed to cover the sound of a small generator. Once everyone was in the church and sitting down, all activity stopped while the generator was unhooked and taken outside. Still running, and still loud, as generators are. It was connected to a circuit of 3 standard light bulbs. The bulbs began to glow orange but not to really provide any light. Which was unfortunate, because by now it is dark.

The service starts, a standard church service. A song, a prayer, a short sermon, a scripture reading another song, and another sermon, by someone else. Of course, everything is in Creole, so I can only understand enough to know what is going on. I don’t know what the sermons are about.

By now, the generator has either failed or run out of gas. Only the minister seems to have noticed that we are sitting in the dark. He has pencil flashlight to read his notes. People are still coming and going into the church, but all is dark. A couple of the bridesmaids get up and leave, but nobody seems concerned.

A group of singers gathers for an anthem. A man with an accordion starts playing in the back, and walks to the front to accompany the group. They sing well, and do a little rhythmic moving. But the only time we can see them is when someone takes a flash picture.
And one more sermon. This time it is the real thing. A full 40 minutes. Halfway though this sermon, a very loud motorcycle starts up outside, then drives into the church and is parked in the back. The driver gets off and walks forward and joins the congregation, leaving his lights on. Nobody notices. The sermon continues, but now we can see. After a few minutes, when the motorcycle battery runs down, we are in the dark again. Another motorcycle starts up outside, drives in, and the driver joins the congregation, leaving his lights on.

By end of the service, the church has 5 motorcycles with drained batteries parked in the back. Haitians have learned to solve lots of problems that we can’t even dream up. And this congregation is taking care of this service.

Finally, the vows begin. They are pretty standard. The groom says his, then is allowed to kiss the bride. But as soon as he does, the preacher pulls them part, as if to keep things from getting out of hand. The congregation laughs, and starts to enjoy the proceedings. The bride says her vows, and the kissing routine is repeated. By now, everyone has stood up and filled the center aisle and the front rows of the church to get a better view. The rings are prayed over and exchanged. A final kiss is allowed.

But it’s not over yet. Everyone in the immediate bridal party has to go up to the communion table and sign a register or certificate. The minister tries to get the congregation singing during the signing, but folks just stand around talking. After the signatures are finished, the service is over. No recessional, everyone walks out together. The flower girl and the ring bearer move and relax for the first time since they entered the church 2 hours ago. Would an American child do this?

John and I have a car. There are only two other cars at the service. All the wedding party, and most of the guests (probably about 75) try to get into these 3 vehicles. Those who simply cannot be mashed into the cars arrange for a motorcycle taxi ride. We start toward the home of the groom for the reception. Down dirt paths and through the cane fields. Around a cow who refused to move out of the path. Across a ravine with no bridge. And just a block past a field with a tent city.


The house is a partially completed brick structure with a roof, no windows in the openings, and not a dab of paint. But it is standing, which is an accomplishment in Leogane. The wall of the front porch is covered with a pink satin sheet, with decorations pinned on. A table with a feast fills the porch.

I mentioned the tent village near the house. About 150 people from the village are gathered in the road. They are joined by the 75 from the church. Everyone wants to see, and the crush is truly Haitian.

To our surprise, (why are we surprised at anything by now?) the processional that occurred at the church is repeated. Only this time, the distance to the porch is only 30 feet, and the width of the aisle is only about 3 feet. But all the dancing routines are repeated. A man keeps trying to push the onlookers back out of the way, but his effort is wasted.

In spite of the feast, there is obviously not enough food for everyone, so John and I plead guesthouse needs and make our way back. A few ladies join us to be dropped off on our way. But they have takeout boxes with food. As we leave, the loud music continues, and follows us for the first mile, around the curves and through the cane fields. There is a party going on tonight! The cow doesn’t seem to mind.

One final note. A week later, the translator comes and asks us for a loan. We had given him cash for a wedding gift, $40. He needs money to pay for the reception, another $50. Since he hasn’t worked in a while, I am confident that we have paid for his reception. It was a bargain!