On Indian Weddings: Part 2

So the wedding was Saturday. And what a day it was.

Before the wedding I was brought to a women to put on my sari/saree whatever you want to call the huge piece of cloth that I wore. After five different ladies fussed and stressed about how to dress such a tall drink of water, I was clothed (sort of, hello midriff) and brought to the wedding site.

Now there is this tradition in Indian weddings where the brides side is obligated to steal the grooms shoes. The purpose of this ritual being that if the groom does not have his shoes at the completion of the ceremony then he will be unable to take his bride away from her "sisters" (sisters encompassing actual sisters, friends, aunties and mother etc). Now traditionally this isn't that difficult to accomplish as the brides side is well-organized to achieve this goal. Alas, we were not and the grooms side is exceedingly nutso about this tradition. They succeeded in having the shoes initially and hid them while the brides side scrambled to find the shoes. Somewhere near the end the boys decided to be ballsy. Shika (Alma's friend who I got along with FAMOUSLY and is from Mumbai) and I were ready. The boys held a singular shoe in the air from across the way. Shika and I (Sari and all) took off in a full sprint towards them. After sprinting around like a raving lunatic in a saree for 2 minutes I managed to intercept the shoe. But was promptly tackled to the ground. As I wrestled with five Indian men my sari was coming undone (luckily you wear them with petticoats). After a five minute scrum we were victorious. Quickly, me dragging some three yards of fabric behind me, Shika and I went to fix me up and replace the pleats.

Now...in any other situation my behavior would have been ridiculed and viewed as inappropriate. But for some reason this shoe fiasco is considered a part of the deal. As I returned to the wedding (which was still in session...yes this whole event occurred while the wedding was going on...strange but normal so they say) all the Aunties (women aged 60-80) crowded around me and began lauding me for my efforts and saying in their best English "we can't even walk in a sari and there you are, american girl, sprinting as fast as you can in one". Was truly an experience I can't forget.

After the wedding everyone was put onto buses and sent the 1.5 hour drive back to Ahemdabad where the reception would take place.

Oi. Another long post on a cold day. Maybe I will actually manage to write something about where I am now one of these days....Indian Himalayas are gorgeous and I am in love with Mcleod Ganj. There. I wrote something. :)