Mariage Haïtien

Today I went to my first wedding in Haiti.

In the unfinished basement of a church, with children sweating in suits that didn’t fit them in spite of the half dozen fans that blended in with the keyboard soundtrack. I have always loved it when in movies set in a different epoch the priest celebrating a wedding asks the audience if anyone would come forward with a reason why the union shouldn’t happen. This one asked it at least three times, at different points in the ceremony. (Although the wedding I attended my very first day in Benin holds the record — the groom would literally refuse to swear loyalty and fidelity. Men.)

The best part was the sermon though. It was the most sexually explicit thing I ever heard come out of a preacher’s mouth (and any adult really). The guy seemed to have taken inspiration from When Harry Met Sally and went on for twenty minutes describing, almost mimicking, foreplay and beyond, without even gracing us all with the use of metaphor or euphemism.

But regardless of my shameless blushing, love and sex are beautiful things. And they are still very much all over Haiti, thankfully.