Grandma returns from Mecca

The big activity this past weekend was the return of my host family's matriarch from Mecca. It amazes me that someone from my small village could travel all the way to Mecca, but apparently one of my many uncles is in the military and he financed the trip. The festivities began with acquiring matching pagne outfits. Here, for big festivities, like weddings, everyone in the family wears outfits out of matching pagne material. I was included in this and got my own dress made out of the material. All day Saturday the women in my compound, along with many neighbors, came by to help cook up the large quantities of rice that would be served once the grandmother arrived. Saturday afternoon, I was informed that I would be picking up the grandmother at the bus stop, so I put on my pagne dress and went into Mango on my host dad's moto. I couldn't help laughing to myself the whole time at how funny we must have looked and at what a strange site we would be in the States. We were both wearing outfits of the same brightly colored and patterned fabric, zooming through town, with me and my big helmet on the back. Once we got to the post office, where the bus would arrive, more and more relatives in that now familiar pagne arrived to wait anxiously. The bus was two hours late and it reminded me a bit of waiting for loved ones in an airport, with everyone chatting anxiously and growing more and more impatient with each passing minute. Then, the bus finally arrived and the grandmother descended in all white to a crowd of cheering relatives. She was whisked away back to Magna where everyone took turns greeting her. The next morning, I was brought to the room to greet her and I stayed as a malam lead the group in prayer. Then, I was informed that it was time for me to get my muslim name. I had been told a day prior that this would be happening, so I came forward as the malam announced that my new name would be Samira. After this, all the women came forward to cover my head with shawls and I was informed that I would now need to learn how to wash and pray with them. Apparently, it had been translated in Anofo that I was requesting a muslim name to become muslim. When I realized that the men and women around me were actually somewhat serious about this, I felt a bit panicked and tried to think of a culturally sensitive way to get out of adopting a muslim prayer routine. After all, there are limits to how far I will go for cultural integration. Since it was my host dad's idea to give me a muslim name, I asked him if I actually had to start praying each day. He laughed and said of course not, because I was baptized Christian and had been married in a church. Now, I had told said I celebrated Christmas and I did say I was married, to ward of future marriage proposals, and he just extrapolated that this meant I had been baptized and married in a church. So, I just went along with it and did what I do best in uncomfortable situations here, I nodded and smiled. Anyways, apparently now it's acceptable for me to have a muslim name without becoming muslim. The word has spread that Samira is my new name, so now half the kids in my village still yell Nafue when I bike by and the other half yell Samira, we'll see which one sticks.

So, that's what happened during my weekend. I hope everyone at home is enjoying winter and snow. I have to say I'm a bit jealous and am sad to be missing a white christmas this year, so enjoy it!!