Strangely enough, Jared and I went to our first weddings: same night, but two different couples, and two very different experiences.
Jared dressed up in his (fake) Armani suit and went with other male teachers to celebrate the wedding of the local accountant at our school. This was the signing ceremony. It took place in a large hall and involved the fathers and grandfathers of the bride and groom signing marriage documents. Guests sat in the “audience” and watched the ceremony. Afterward, they greeted the groom with well-wished and embraces. Their party-gifts were ornate boxes that contained baklava, and a bead-flower boquet with chocolates inside. This part of the marriage took about one hour, and the guys were back home within two hours!
Catherine dressed up in an evening dress, covered by a long coat for travel to the wedding hall to celebrate the marriage of the daughter of the teacher’s favorite taxi driver.
Just inside the banquet hall, a curtain separated the women’s party from the outside world. Once passing this barrier, fully-covered women disrobed to reveal exquisite and revealing gowns, kilos of gold jewelry, and elaborate makeup. A woman at our table spent over one thousand pounds on her dress during a trip to London; and she had obviously worn it many times. Yet there was a wide range of dresses since those women who have never left the city have more limited options (not to mention more limited incomes).
It was quite stirring to see the homogenizing effects of black robes and veils slip away as the women took off the garments. Their hair is long, dark and thick. Their make up was colorful and thick around their eyes, and the whole face was painted with white foundation to make the skin appear as light as possible. Many of the women were more “white” than I am!
As the bride drew near the hall, a murmur went through the room and in a wave women began to recover themselves with their scarves. This was necessary since the bride was escorted by her brother – the only male allowed to venture into the room (the DJ’s and staff were all female). The brother guided her up to the elaborate wedding chair at the head of the hall, all the while preceeded by dry ice smoke and woodchips painted and scented to replicate rose petals – with an Arabized version of “The Wedding March” playing. She wore a "western-style" wedding dress, with her hair curled up on her head and studded with fake diamonds superglued to her hair for some sparkle. Post haste the brother retreated, and skin and hair reemerged among guests.
After the traditional almond cookies and almond milk drink; and after sweet coffee and cream cake, we ate a dinner of traditional foods – excellent! The bride sat prettily and watched us eat. We were entertained by women who took turns tying their scarves around their hips and posteriors, and shaking them for all they’re worth. Even the six year old cousins know how to move!
Our party-animal troupe of teachers cut out after dinner; it was already 11:30 on a Tuesday night and our staff briefing is at 7:20am each morning. I was disappointed to miss wedding cake and group dancing where many women play drums (so I’ve heard).
And to the faux pas…Before the wedding a well-meaning informant told me to bring my camera and take lots of pictures – as this is totally fine. So, I did take some pictures, only to find out later from the bride’s teenage cousin that pictures were not appropriate at this wedding. This family is very conservative, and taking photos risks men seeing pictures of the women indecently clad. Needless to say, I felt terrible that I breached such a sensitive area of respect and dignity. The first of, no doubt, many mistakes to come (although this can’t even have been my first real mistake, as I probably don’t even yet know what mistakes I’m making, or their seriousness). So, don’t look for any photos from the wedding here!
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