My wife and I were watching the local news one evening recently when one of those odd “human interest” stories grabbed our attention. A recent immigrant to our country was trying to raise money in order to pay a “dowry” to the father of the woman he was wishing to marry, back in his home country. The “dowry” was what caught our attention, because the groom had to come up with 110 cows in order to receive permission from the father to wed the young lady. My wife and I were appalled, but for very different reasons.
“I thought those kinds of customs went by the wayside after the middle ages!” my wife screamed at the television. “Why that’s the same as going to a catalog and just ‘purchasing’ a wife. Don’t you agree, Jerry?” Before I had a chance to answer, she added, “That’s just completely demeaning to the woman. Don’t you agree, Jerry?”
Without quite thinking things through completely enough, I answered, “Actually, I was thinking the woman must really be something for her father to demand 110 cows as a dowry. I mean, 10… or maybe 15, I could see… but 110, come on, that’s just plain ridiculous.” There was an uncomfortable length of silence.
Later that evening, when my wife started talking to me again, the conversation returned to the dowry story. Judy had calmed down and realized that customs and traditions are much different in other parts of the world. Things that we find objectionable or distasteful here in the good old U-S-of-A, are considered normal or even “special” in other regions of the world. We both agreed that we probably shouldn’t be so judgmental.
“If we had those customs here, how many cows would you have been willing to pay for my ‘dowry’ before we married?” Judy asked, jokingly.
“Well, honey, if you’ll remember, I didn’t have much in the way of material possessions when we first met, so I couldn’t have afforded many cows.”
“Would you have paid five cows?”
Thoughtfully, I responded, “But, of course I would have paid five cows for you.”
“How about 10?”
“Certainly,” I answered. But I was worried about the direction the banter was taking. Evidently, Judy didn’t want to push her luck and let the questions stop at that point. But, right at bedtime, she had to go one step further.
“What would have been your limit on the number of cows you would have paid?”
I was very sleepy at that point, but I came up with, “Honey, when we first started farming, we started with 20 cows, remember? It would have been tough, but I would have given all 20 of those cows for your hand in marriage. Is that good enough?”
That seemed to be good enough and I went to sleep. About an hour later, Judy shook me slightly to awaken me from one of those really good, deep sleeps. “What is it?” I mumbled in a half-awake fog.
“Those 20 cows we started with were a bunch of broken-mouthed, long-toed critters that were old enough to vote and with two feet already in the bologna plant. You were just hoping and praying that they would survive a year so you could get one calf out of them to make a little money. Would you have paid 20 of the good, young cows that you have now?”
I pretended to go back to sleep.
Jerry Crownover farms in Lawrence County. He is a former professor of Agriculture Education at Missouri State University, and is an author and professional speaker. To contact Jerry, go to www.ozarksfn.com and click on ‘Contact Us.’
