January 31, 2013 - The Ring Ceremony

So it turns out I was not too underdressed after all, whew. Most of the men were in western wear, everything from jeans to suits. The woman were in various styles of sparkly Indian dresswear. We arrived 45 minutes after the time on the invitation. We were almost the first guests there. Ha! So IST, according to Buddy (nickname I’m giving the co-worker who is always doing stuff for me), actually means Indian Stretchable Time. The bride didn’t even arrive until about two hours later.

First Indian Outfit
(Yes, there are Pink Pants under that.)

I hung out primarily with the spouse of LeadingMan (nickname for tall, dashing co-worker) while Buddy and him went off somewhere. Everyone I talked to about Indian weddings told me that a wedding is a 3-5 day process with ritual after ritual (many including a big party and most including both extended families who are also joining together) and that the bride and groom have almost no time to sleep, except for brief naps when they can grab them. (“It prepares them for the sleepless nights ahead,” someone quipped.) The bride and groom did admittedly look a little exhausted, poor things, and the groom’s brother was running around crazily on errands like any groom’s brother. Speaking of brothers, I learned something funny. In many Indian communities, a younger sister can get married before an older sister but it is virtually unheard of for a younger brother to get married before an older brother.

There were appetizers (including something very yummy that was described as a “chili mushroom”.) I also tried a couple “golgabe”, which are these fried things dipped in a sweet or sour liquid, then eaten in one bite since it holds a lot of the liquid. Sounds better than it turned out to be, but glad I got to try one. Every hour or so, there was some sort of ritual happening up at the front with a throng of people (though only a percentage of the guests) gathered around. One was for the groom and not the bride. It involved <begin ignorant foreigner translation> dudes with their shoes off sitting around a bunch of fruit with dishtowels on their heads and a red splotch on their forehead with grains of rice on it listening to someone chant. <end> The chanting is in Sanskrit, I found out. I asked her what it all meant, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I barely paid attention during mine.”

Groom and Bride
Photos courtesy of woman I was with, since I was way too shy to get up close
(No large version since I totally don’t know most these people.)

Most of the time, people were just socializing and dancing. Once the DJ blasted the music – which he did off and on throughout the evening – it was pretty much impossible to have a conversation. But the dancing…

I have never seen guys dance like that… sober, at least. I should have expected that in a country where every time I turn on the TV there are men dancing in unison in some Bollywood music video (wooing a woman usually), that they’d have no trouble doing the same at a wedding. Combine the love of song and dance with the much smaller sphere of personal space Indians have, and wow! Guys in a tight bunch, singing along to the music and dancing gregariously together. It was awesome! (Apparently, a number of local religions forbid alcohol so it is rare to go to a wedding with alcoholic drinks served. Pretty sure no one needs it here!)

“No, they’re not drunk.”

Everyone knew the lyrics of every song. I did not recognize most of the music. There was one song I did know: Gangnam Style!

I got pulled up to dance by our group of co-workers and I even got some dance time with the groom as we all boogied in a circle. Though at one point, the actual ring ceremony started. From what I could see between the many people gathered at the front (while the techno still blared deafeningly and people continued dancing up a storm), there was a fancy sofa where the couple sat. They exchanged rings and posed in many cute positions for the photographers and filmographers. I saw one girl, looking bored behind them, mouthing along to the words of the song.

The drinks that were being served on trays were mostly multi-colored sodas, but there was one funny one with little balls of batter floating in it. “It’s good,” the woman assured me. I took a sip. It was sort of like I was drinking hot lemony oily soup. It was not thirst quenching. I tried to drink it, but could barely get down a few sips. She had earlier asked a waiter for some coffee and they happened to bring two, so I broke my no-caffeine-after-6pm rule and had a delicious cup of sweet, milky coffee at 10pm and surreptitiously let a waiter pick up my other glass.

The buffet finally opened shortly after that (invitation says: “Dinner: 8:00pm”) and the woman I was with was on a fast where she could only eat (other than fruit and not counting coffee) once she saw the moon. Her husband did a couple moon checks and finally, we went outside, gazed at the moon, she said a prayer I think, then we went back and had some food. It was pretty decent. Conclusion is that the redder the sauce is, the more I like it. The brown ones are decent. I don’t like the white ones as much. We left early (just before midnight). I saw one of the guests at work the next day who said he’d stayed another hour and the party was still going strong.

And the actual wedding is not until tomorrow!