Big Fat Indian Wedding

I think we are at a point where each week is going to be plot twist upon plot twist. This week what I am writing about already feels like a different era of existence, even though it was only ~4 days ago. 

Last post I left you in the village with the lion-tailed macaques and a 2.5 year dream actualized. Happy, happy Stephanie. Since then, I have shifted to northern India in Jaipur, Rajasthan. Jaipur is one of the most iconic places in India, fittingly matched with the most white people I have seen so far (not that white people make it iconic, but emphasizing that this is a stop that everyone wants to visit). I have been to this city before for a conference, and yet again I am strayed from exploring the city. This time, in favor of a wedding. 2

That’s right, this past weekend I went to an Indian wedding. A BIG FAT Indian wedding. INCREDIBLY BIG FAT Indian wedding. Like 10k USD spent on decorations alone. Fireworks, shooting flames, dancers, riding horseback, a giant resort with water coming out of the trunks of stone elephants. A man playing music and Indian-yodeling (that’s the worst-best way to describe it) while we eat breakfast. Drummers banging their animal skins when people arrive to the venue. Big. Fat. Indian. Wedding. 

For my western audience members, forget the idea that the west is the best. Particularly in the wedding department, India will always, always beat an American (white) wedding. For starters, we get one event, maybe two if you count the dress rehearsal. In India, there are at least four functions that can spread across days. In this case, the four functions were condensed to 2 official days, but that does not mean that the festivities were any less grand. 

Forgive me for not knowing any of the official names for these things. I was preoccupied with the wedding to report on the wedding. Sorry, not sorry. 

We arrived a day before the official processions. Stepping out of the taxi, a man plays the Ravanahatha and howls songs to us. I say “howl” to describe a beautifully passionate belt that rumbles and spirals through the air, objecting the western scales in favor of the richly historical Indian one. The Ravanhatha is an instrument like an erhu/violin, but instead of the strings facing out, the strings face towards the musician. He attached bells to his bow to add extra pizazz on the faster paced sequences. The instrument also has ties to Hindu mythology.

The first official day of the wedding, the bride and groom walk out dancing along a carpeted path under numerous flowered arches. Paint bombs are launched into the sky and bubbles that when popped, a white puff of smoke resides. Like the wheel, I never imagined the bubble to improve, and yet here we are. Noted for my future wedding, for sure. The first event had some silly games between the bride and grooms families and giving time for family members to meet or reunite. 

In the evening comes my personal favorite event of the wedding. DANCING! Unlike the US where we have forgotten how to move besides speed walking to escape late night gun shots, India still knows how to dance. With practically every Bollywood movie mandating dance breaks throughout the story, Indians have absorbed these dances like TikToks and now have a substantial collection of shared dances. Like the cha cha side, but more then a casual shuffle where the track has to instruct every next move. No, the dances everyone has have flowwww. The wrists twist, the arms pump the air, and legs are hopping, skipping, jumping… Yes, men also can dance. Hot. 

For the first part of this event, close family members arrange choreographed group dances to perform on stage. To reiterate the big-fat-Indian-wedding-ness, the stage here was prepped for a medium-sized artist, fitted with fire, flashing lights, and the biggest speakers known to man. 

After all of the group dances, we hit the dance floor and go until 3am. Your girl can be a little shy on the dance floor, but I have come to a point in my life where being stiff looks foolish, and if my timidness wants me to not be embarrassed, then I have to go all out to avoid this embarrassment. I looked to a friend for direction on the appropriate moves, and swung my hips. I will say, my bruised tail bone from last week definitely was feeling this for the next two days. Actually, everything was. Sore, sore sore. 

The next day of wedding was nice. More outfit changes. Big dramatic entrances for the bride and groom. The religious stuff (I don’t mean to dismiss it so quickly, but everyone was bored by the rituals so I think it is fair to rush through it). 

I am shorting you of so many details, but I am not trying to be a travel writer, here. I am simply Stephanie writing what I’ve got so that family and friends aren’t totally in the dark of my doings.