A Family Affair

Our Thanksgiving week was spent in a chaotic whirlwind of events, largely dominated by my close friend’s wedding. 

I was really looking forward to this momentous, joyous occasion.  My friend and I lived in the same dorm freshman year, joined the same sorority, and throughout the years, have grown closer and closer.  She has seen me in my best and worst moments, including those tough times with rowing.

Group of friends, including the new bride; old photo from college

My friend is Indian, and she most certainly had a traditional, week-long Indian wedding.  A wedding is supposed to be an once-in-a-lifetime event.  So, what is one week of ceremony, celebration compared to the rest of your life together?

I have been to an Indian wedding before and had some idea of all the events and ceremonies, but every wedding is different, depending on the couple, family, customs, and religion.  Ready for a peek into this Indian wedding?

Day 1.  Hindu ceremony on bride’s side to mark the beginning of the wedding (no idea what the ceremony is called).  Women only. 

The ceremony was held at the bride’s house.  The bride sat in the front of the room, facing a wall lined with religious items and offerings.  A Hindu priest led the ceremony.  He chanted various prayers and spoke to the bride in a mixture of Hindi and Gujati.  My friend is from a northwestern province of India called Gujat. 

Halfway through the ceremony, the priest offered the bride a few important words on marriage.  Important enough that he repeated them in English.  Marriage requires two things—sacrifice and understanding.  Sacrifice to put the other person ahead of yourself.  Understanding that your marriage and the other person are more important than you being right all the time. 

Although the rest of the lecture on marriage was in Gujati, before I knew it, all the other women especially the mother, aunties, grandmothers were all reaching for the Kleenex box.  I could feel my eyes watering because I have been married for only the smallest amount of time and I already know that I lack a little in the sacrifice and understanding department.

The ceremony concluded with each of the women taking two sticks, one dipped in a yellow paste and one dipped in oil, and touching the bride’s feet, knees, shoulders, and head four times. 

Day 2.  Mehendi ceremony on bride’s side. 

Mehendi is a fun, more casual event where the bride and other women have their heena done.  In this case, the bride’s heena on her hands and feet took almost six hours because of the complex patterns and delicate lines. 

An example of heena

When applied, heena appears like a black puff paint that has to dry and will eventually flake off, revealing a dark brown pattern or “tattoo.”  The “tattoo” is not permanent, but takes about 1-2 weeks to wash off.  The longer the black puff paint stays on, the darker and supposedly more beautiful the heena will be. 

The bride had to walk around carefully and had little use of her hands in fear of ruining the heena for a number of hours.  Yes, this means that she was got the ultimate princess treatment—sister, cousins at her beck and call.  Luckily, she did not drink very much water beforehand.

Indian weddings are true family affairs.  Not only do extended family near and far spend the whole week consumed with the wedding, but they are all involved somehow.  Here at Mehendi, many of the older women sat around a HUGE bucket of carnations, singing while snapping off the flowers and threading them to make a wreath to be worn at the final wedding ceremony.

Day 3.  “Rest.”

This day was Thanksgiving and thankfully, we got this day off.  The groom’s side, however, did have their Mehendi on this day.

Day 4.  Ceremony and Garba and Raas Dandiya.

The bride had a small, family ceremony on this day followed by larger, celebratory event with music, food, drinks, and dancing.  Garba and Raas Dandiya are specific forms of Indian dancing.  Garba involves hand movements and specific step sequences.  Raas, which I believe is from Gujat, involves dancing with two sticks and in a large even-numbered group.

Even the Princess made an appearance at Raas Garba

My short fling in college with Indian dancing was a mixture of the two forms, often called Raas Garba.  Luckily, all that learning then was not completely wasted.

Even the dancing is a family affair.  Everyone partakes—men, women, siblings, parents, cousins, aunties, uncles, long lost relatives, grandparents, children.

Day 5.  Pre-wedding and wedding ceremony.

For the bride, this day started at 3AM with hair and make-up.  Imagine that.  There was hair and make-up done every day and all the women looked beautiful in their colorful, sparkling outfits. 

The first ceremony on this day began in the morning with the bride’s side women giving the bride various gifts.  The Hindu priest led the ceremony again, and there was some form of a sing-off between the women.

After lunch, the next ceremony was at the groom’s temple since the groom was Sikh, a separate religion from Hinduism and originating in the Punjab region. 

The last, final, and largest ceremony was the official Hindu wedding.  The groom arrived atop a horse, heavily decorated with jewels and colorful fabric.  The groom’s family and friends led the horse around in the parking lot while dancing and celebrating.  Eventually, the music and dancing faded and the groom dismounted and entered the building.  Before he could approach the ceremony stage, the bride’s side women provided him a variety of religious or traditional offerings.  This ended with a fun tradition of the bride’s mother trying to pinch the groom’s nose. 

The actual ceremony began with the groom and his family sitting on one side and the bride’s family sitting on the other.  The bride was escorted up the aisle by two of her uncles.  She was seated across from the groom with a cloth separating them and a red thread connecting them.  The Hindu priest conducted several prayers or traditions before the cloth was dropped and the couple could see each other.  Then, the couple placed the carnation flower wreaths, which were made at the Mehendi, on each other. 

The ceremony continued with the several customs involving the groom’s and the bride’s fathers, symbolizing the joining of the two families. 

The bride leading the groom around the fire

The last part of the ceremony involved the bride and groom walking around a fire multiple times, each circle had a specific meaning.  The priest reemphasized sacrifice and understanding here.

The ceremony ended and gave way to dinner (although I doubt if the newly wedded couple even managed to get a bite to eat) and gift-giving.

The very long day concluded with the bride bidding good-bye to her family and leaving with the groom, marking her new life with his family.  The couple drove off slowly with several of the bride’s male relatives pushing the car, symbolizing the bride’s departure from her family.

Day 6.  Reception.

Despite Day 6 falling on a Sunday, the reception (of 400 people) began in the evening and went well through the night.  Filled with short speeches, a special dance performance, lots of picture-taking, delicious, rich Indian food, and a whole night of dancing, the reception was a joyous celebration end to a long week. 

With the beautiful bride

 The wedding was quite a marathon of events, but it was a good time to reflect and to learn a few things too.

1. Family is important.
2. Marriage requires sacrifice and understanding.
3. Weddings are as much about joining two people as about joining two families.
4. Customs and traditions are often symbolic of greater things.
5. I think I have eaten enough Indian food to last me a whole year.
6. There is no age limit to dancing.
7. Celebrate the things in life that matter.

Vegas

Only one closet of several, lined with dresses
and shoes, none of which belong to me

In the Bay Area, this past weekend was the Head of the Port, held in Port of West Sacramento, hosted by River City Rowing Club.  Results are posted here.  It looked like a good day for Lake Merritt and the Cal Lightweight men who raced several heavyweight crews.

Instead of doing anything productive, such as racing at Head of the Port, the weekend was spent in Las Vegas for a good friend's bachelorette party.  Living it up in style at the newly-built Planet Hollywood Westgate Tower suites, there was plenty of sleeping space, alcohol, junk food, and bathroom space for ten girls.  If you have not figured out by now, I am an old lady who is married, has a kid, and just struggling to get by with a clean house.  Partying and Vegas are not really ever in the cards.  So this trip was a trip to see how this whole Vegas thing is really done.

Going out to town required a three to four hour getting-ready, make-up period and the experienced party girls made it look like a controlled massive production line--shower, make-up, dress, hair.  Apparently, for girls, it is key to look the "part" in order to cut lines at clubs and get free admission. To my chagrin, my one-and-a-half inch black heels that I normally wear to work was not going to cut it.  After much peer pressure, we went shoe shopping (luckily, the Miracle Mile shops were right downstairs).

I have this bad habit of acquiring new shoes when I travel.  My husband who owns maybe three pairs of shoes and who wears his shoes until the soles are falling apart, always has this skeptical look of when accosted by the latest shoe acquisition.

Latest and greatest (and absolutely non-function) pair of shoes

Unlike the last pair of shoes I brought home from Colorado, this pair from Aldo were wedges, which, as I was informed, are quite in-style now, and had a heel about three-and-a-half inches.  Trust me, there were many other more extreme choices, but this was the pair in which I would not break an ankle and which I might possibly where on another occasion.

The first night was spent at two clubs.  By the third hour, I felt like Cinderella who had managed to squeeze her foot into the glass slipper, but found out that the more she stands, the larger her feet become.  Every other woman was wearing shoes like mine or even more ridiculously taller and uncomfortable.  If there was a woman there who said that her feet did not hurt, she is LYING.  The absolutely stupid things women do for beauty.

The second night, I ditched the new shoes and wore my plain black, grandma shoes.  Much more comfortable.  Thank goodness.

Picture with the bachelorette and grandma shoes