I started the day by just sleeping in and packing. Oh, and I finally ordered from Pizza Hut. By far, this is the best pizza I've had of the "American" pizza joints in India. It was delish. Packing went shockingly well. I managed to get all my gifts and purchases in the suitcases. I'm debating whether I want to brak out my third suitcase for some of the breakables, but we'll see. It seriously looked like I took an Indian store and shook it into my suitcase. Seriously, it's like India threw up in my bag.
Nidhi's brother, Nitish, picked me up around 6 p.m. Apparently we were very off-schedule because we were supposed to leave at 6:15 to pick up the groom. Yes, somehow I had ended up in the groom's car. Nidhi and Vikram's chevy was being decked out in flowers for the ride from the groom's house to the venue. At Nidhi's, her mother-in-law wrapped me up in a sari—well, a partial sari. I refused to let my midriff show. Soon after, we rished to the groom's. Once there, I met a whole bunch of random people, including the groom himself. There was this whole ceremony of getting him to the car where the family was essentially howling to call to the gods. I spent the entire car ride trying to calm down his nerves and explain to him that it's the imperfections that make the day memorable. This really rung true when we got to the venue and couldn't find the barat or the horse. As we went to make a u-turn I told him, "well, there's your big story. You'll tell everyone for years to come that you couldn't even find the horse on your wedding day!"
We got to the barat at last and it was just so interesting to step back and watch the festivities. Well, I had anticipated just stepping back and watching, but apparently you don't have that option here. Participation is required. The barat consists of the groom riding a decorated horse down the street towards the venue. As he's trotting along, all the family and friends walk with him and a band plays, leading the way. At various points throughout, friends and family break into mini dance parties. It was great fun to watch. The traditions are amazingly beautiful.
Once we made it to the venue, the bride's family was there to welcome the groom wand his family. One-by-one people exchanged roses and took pictures: father and father, mother and mother, sister and groom, best friend and best friend, etc. Eventually, Vikram's mother and I were absolutely dying from the heat, so we ran inside to cool off. And that's when I saw the hall. Wow. Indian weddings are so decked out! Nidhi made it in and then dragged me into a little room where the bride was patiently waiting for her opportunity to come out and meet her groom. Eventually she emerged and was presented to the groom, who adorably helped her onto the stage.
Once on stage, they were given garlands which they had to exchange. The custom is that the groom's friends lift him to that the bride must jump to reach the groom and put the garland over his neck (and vice versa). It was hilarious to watch all the taller friends, like Nitish, grabbing the groom by his waist to lift him up.
Finally it was picture time. The poor bride and groom spent hours sitting in highly decorated chairs, having people constantly come up to them for pictures.
I got my fair share of stares this evening, but everyone I met was so friendly and Nidhi made sure I was never left alone, as she promised. Nitish was mostly tasked with the duty of watching me, but I spent a good amount of time with her in-laws as well. Nitish and I got dinner and the poor thing was actually self conscious about speaking English correctly around me. I've found that this is the reason a lot of my Indian coworkers shy away from using the phone. If only they knew that we don't care how good or bad they are—the fact that they try is what matters. And how else will you learn and improve if you don't try? Anyway, despite his concern, we still had a fun time chatting. I think I got the majority of my stares while hanging out with Nitish. He's a very handsome young man (I enjoyed calling him a kid, for that's what his 21 years equal in my mind), so all the girls were probably not so happy that I was monopolizing him.
Around 11:30 p.m., I left with Nitish and Vikram's in-laws. Nidhi and Vikram were staying for the remaining ceremonies, which would begin after midnight. After a night of dancing, drinking, and eating, those two probably won't make it home until 6:00 a.m. Those crazy Indians.
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