Saturday, October 23, 2010

Who wants to go to a Monsoon Wedding?? I DO, I DO, I DO!

Jain-ja-nin-dera Vadodora!

Formerly known as Baroda, I flew to the home-town of my dear friend, Kiwi with whom I worked at the chocolate boutique. His family welcomed me into their home with wide-open arms (which I’ve come to learn is the beautiful nature of Indians). My arrival and stay was well anticipated by the family. Kiwi had done a good job letting them know that a ‘White Person’ was coming to his wedding.

‘Kiwi! Why did you tell them that?? I’m Asian! You’re lying to them!’

‘Deb, once you open your mouth they’ll KNOW how white you are!’

But regardless of the confusion, they fed me (the food was so delectable that my eyes teared-up with each mouthful), housed me (western toilet!!) and in return I provided entertainment by trying to learn the local Indian dialect, Gujarati.

Kiwi's mum drying off her Henna Tattoo with her fun and bubbly sisters

I arrived just a few days before the official wedding date so I could be the fly on the wall, and witness the operations of a traditional Indian wedding. I opened up my little Asian eyes and absorbed everything I saw! The food, the décor, the traditional outfits, the expressive hand gestures and head-bobbling… oh, so much to take in!

Just a day after me, Traveller Karin joined us for the festivities! I didn’t want to completely disappoint the family by not being white…so I invited Karin! After I asked Kiwi, of course. (Just a side note: this is not an offensive racial thing. This is a running inside-joke between me and Kiwi). I was so glad she came along. A fellow foreigner to share the experience.

Karin: She's White!!

On my 3rd day there, the family members and guests started to arrive. Let me paint a picture as to what they probably perceived: Remember back to a time when you attended a wedding. You know the people, you’re familiar with the traditions, the food, the formal wear, the music. Everything is as you expect. Now imagine you go to sit down at your table and there are two inappropriately dressed Eskimos with stone-cold fish, wrapped up in foil, supposedly gifts, for the bride and groom. That was us. Now imagine one Eskimo, flamboyant, animated, loud and overly chatty for one who doesn’t speak the local language. That was me.

Groom and Eskimo being all Gangsta!

I got so excited about dressing up. In Delhi I had two sarees made: 1 iridescent magenta one with adorable beaded flowers and a bright blue one with gorgeous beaded details.

Aunty Preeti after wrapping us up

Apparently, I look North Indian!

But Karin still looks White

Aunty Preeti helped me and Karin with the art of saree. Thank goodness. Otherwise we would’ve looked like heavily bejeweled Samosas. Once I got everything on, my knees were buckling…my outfits were so HEAVY. In India, the fashion philosophy is: ‘if less is more…then surely moreis MORE!’ I reckon I donned at least 4kg worth of drapery and bling. But that didn’t stop me from DANCING. Oh My Vishnu…the DANCING was amazing. Any occasion where dancing is mandatory is my kind of occasion!! Kiwi’s mum at one point sat me down on her lap and said very seriously, ‘Debra, go and take rest. In 2 hours, you must dance. We all dance for 3 hours. Go. Sleep. Rest. Then dance.’ AWESOME. The nights of dancing were like something out of Bollywood. It was monsoon season so the rain poured down as the speakers blasted and we all danced barefoot on the street in ankle deep water, skipping, spinning and hopping celebrating the union of the gorgeous young couple

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Kanika and Kiwi with 9kg of Indian Wedding Couture

So throughout the 3-day wedding (Indian weddings are normally a week but due to lack of time on the bride and groom’s part, it was all condensed into the 3 days) the bride and groom went through the Henna tattoo ceremony, the meeting of the parents ceremony, the gifting ceremony, the Tumeric ceremony, the blessed bathing ceremony, the prayer ceremony, the family acceptance ceremony, the welcome-back-to-your-family-with-your-new-husband ceremony, the welcome-to-your-new-home-with-your-new-husband-and-parents ceremony…No wonder the divorce rate in India is so low.

Please note: these ceremonies are not correctly named nor listed in the correct order. I mean no disrespect! I simply don’t know/remember!

I had so much fun. Thank you so much to Kiwi and Kanika, and the Shah Family for letting me participate in such a special event in their lives. SHUKRIYA!!

Kiwi and his parents

Me and the Bad-Ass, Mihir

The Bride's side plus their new Son! ...and Eskimo Daughters...