The Indian Wedding.

        My only regret in India is that I didn’t buy a thimble, but I’m also not sure that they even sell them there… so c’est la vie, I suppose. I did however, buy a sari that I did not want. My friends and I left in the morning for Siva’s temple. We would then return my sari before I’d part from them to be on the ship in time for my orphanage visit.
        We got out of the rickshaw in front of the temple – it was right next to the shop where I’d bought my sari! That was great because we’d kill two birds with one stone. Unfortunately, once a sari is worn, it can’t be returned.. so I was stuck with mine as they saw me leave the shop wearing it.
        We walked down the street to the front gate of the temple, where we checked our shoes. It was me, Kelly, Corey, Ross, Ross, Eric, Rachel, and Tam. The 8 of us walked in and I was the only one who paid for a camera card at the front, which would allow me to take pictures in the temple. We walked into the courtyard and saw a large crowd of people seated. They were all Indian and wearing vibrant colors. A lot of the women were in formal saris that looked much like mine.
        We snuck up to the front to see what the fuss was about – people shoved us forward wanting us to check things out as we were the foreigners. I think I was the last of my group to realize that we were at a wedding! There was a topless man at the front performing a ceremony over a man dressed in yellow. After the man in yellow stepped back and a few minutes passed, a new ceremony began over a woman in yellow. It wasn’t until they were seated together facing the crowd that I realized what was going on.
        She looked beautiful. We conveniently befriended the two brothers of the bride. They explained what was going on in the ceremony and who everyone involved was. They explained that throwing rice at the couple (yes, we) blessed them. The marriage was arranged, and their sister was a mere 20 years old – younger than me! Her hair was coated in a thick layer of delicious smelling flowers, and there were traditional, floral marriage strands placed around her neck. There was a part of the ceremony where the couple exchange floral necklaces. A hired videographer and photographer were there; I thought that was only something that would happen in highly developed areas.
        After a while I realized that it would be appropriate to wear my sari! Good thing I couldn’t return it. :) I asked the women if they would help me dress myself, and they didn’t understand what I was saying until I showed them what I had in my bag. The brothers of the bride said it was an inappropriate place to do it, and the ladies must have agreed because they shuffled me behind a shrine and began tucking my shirt up under itself to reveal my belly. The women all have their bellies semi-revealed in India, regardless of their size – which I think is beautiful.
        Anyway, it took 6 women and about 20 minutes, but I emerged as a butterfly from a cocoon. A great part of the changing was that it happened at the same time as the ceremonial changing of the bride’s wardrobe, and she had a bunch of women fussing around her and changing her clothes behind the shrine at the same time. We laughed together as we had 6 meters of fabric wrapped strategically around us, and shared a girl moment even without communicating verbally. I thought that was really special.
        One lady grabbed a bindi from her friend’s forehead and stuck it on mine! I felt bad and returned her bindi, so they put a dot of powder on my forehead. Another woman put her (fake) pearl necklace on me, and would not let me return it. The only word she said was “gift” and I felt so appreciative. We emerged from behind the shrine, and the women decorated the foreheads of all my friends as well. I had gotten really up close in photographing them, and think that was kind of our “in” with the wedding. We were all invited to the reception, which was a lunch at a nearby hotel!
        The end of the ceremony was quick. The bride wore burgundy, and the groom wore white. They started to loosen up around each other as they splashed water in a bowl ceremonially, and rocked a coconut in a small towel as though cradling a child. The man marrying them prayed, wishing a healthy family and hopeful future upon them.
        We walked together to the hotel, barefoot, down the dirt streets of Chennai. We waited a little bit, and were seated along one side of a table in a small garage-like room. A paper was laid out on the long, thin table before us and a palm leaf was set down in front of each person – these would be our plates. Men walked up and down the aisles between tables slopping rice and about 5 Indian entrees that were unidentifiable onto our palm leaves. It was a vegetarian meal, and EXTREMELY spicy. Unlike many restaurants there, they hadn’t tapered the spices for our American taste buds. It was delicious, and surprisingly made only one of us sick. The rest of the guest laughed at how much water we guzzled down and how red our faces turned upon eating.
        We chatted with the family for a bit, thanked them for their hospitality and left to get our shoes and shop around. We then went to Spencer’s, which was a large, non-air conditioned, indoor mall. We then went to an outdoor bazaar, where I bought a funny gift for my dad and earrings. I also bought some stainless steel cups for my kitchen with oriental designs on them. I can’t wait to use them :)
        Barely made it back to the ship on time, cutting it close by 3 minutes! Phew. Anyway, I showed the wedding photos in my post-port meeting. My post-port meeting group’s facilitator is a photographer, and my film instructor George McLemore. He was so excited with everything I had to share, and shook my hand after the meeting before I left. He was impressed with my lack of fear to really get in the middle of everything to photograph, and I was thrilled and glowing with pride. Like Robert Kappa said, “If your photographs aren’t good, it’s because you aren’t close enough.”