please do not offer my god a peanut

(or another Jain bites the dust)

I've been to a few weddings in my time. Maybe if I had grown up a few generations ago or if I was from one of those Red states, I and all my friends would have been married years ago and I'd already be a grandpappy. But here I am, on the verge of turning 26, and only recently has talk of marriage started to run rampant amongst my friends.

The first few weddings I went to were Catholic... I think. At least two of them were, and one was maybe more of a non-denominational thing in a little gazebo on Cape Cod with just a handful of people in attendance and someone playing the harp. At one of the weddings a big scene was made about the fact that the groom was Catholic and the bride was Protestant... I might be getting that backwards, but really, the subtlety of the situation is entirely lost on me. But last weekend, I'm proud to say, I went to an Indian wedding for the first time.

I had a decent idea of what to expect. People had told me that the groom would ride in on a horse and there would be a lot of women in saris dancing and it would be a crazy and festive occasion. Just like a wedding should be. I was also looking forward to the open bar and all-vegetarian Indian menu that was to be offered.

So I show up somewhere in NJ- like Christianity, New Jersey is mostly a mystery to me- and meet Kristin and Nick at their hotel. I knew I was in the right place because I saw another car with Massachusetts plates and an Indian family getting out of it. I get into my spiffy suit and put some salve in my hair and we head to the lobby, where the guests were to meet to embark on the procession of cars. I thought you were only allowed to disobey traffic laws for a funeral procession, but the cavalcade of cars that left from the Marriott Courtyard to head to the Stone Museum seemed to think otherwise.

Now might be a good time to mention the pictures.

Pictures from the wedding

The Stone Museum was beautiful. As you can see from the pictures, they had set up a-- crap, all I know is the Jewish word, chuppa-- in the middle of the pond, and there was a lot of red and gold and Ganesh statues... giving the whole affair a sort of Giverny-meets-India feel. It was a sunny, hot, and humid day.

We waited in the parking lot of the Stone Museum in anticipation of Akshay's grand entrance on the horse. Even though Kristin and I are friends with Sarika through work, Sarika told us to be on the groom's side because they get to have all the fun. So at around 3pm, the horse is suited up and the drummer eunuch starts tapping away on his drum. However... the bridal party hasn't even left the hotel. I suspect that this is sort of a modern-day part of the Indian wedding where the bride is supposed to initially turn away the groom, but it turns out that Sarika's side really just felt like dragging their feet.

Maybe an hour and many calls from Akshay on his BlackBerry later (again, I thought it was part of the new mixing in with the old traditions), the crowd- now full of grumpy, tired kids- gathers around the horsey and the long procession to the museum's entrance begins. The drummer plays a beat and various women take turns dancing around and in front of the horse, as if they were temptresses trying to lure Akshay away (but then I realized that they were his cousins, so that's gross and my guess was wrong). Pretty fun. We eventually make it to the entrance, where a fully decked-out Sarika was there to greet her groom to be. It was kind of tough to discern what was going on because there were a lot of people in the area and I don't think much was spoken... all I know is that they threw rice and rose petals at each other and then we went into the main area where we had to fight for cups of water (it was hot) and then sit for the ceremony.

The ceremonies I've been to have all taken place in closed or small quarters- i.e. churches or gazebos. This was a bit different in that they were on basically an island in the middle of a pond and the guests sat facing the island. It was a bit like a movie in that respect. I sat as quietly as possible so I could hear what was going on and because I thought that was what you do during a wedding ceremony... but most of the crowd didn't seem to agree. Almost everyone was milling about and talking as the ceremony was going on. Some people were on cell phones. Kids were running around. Even drinks were being passed out! I don't know... a friend told me that she heard it's okay to talk in Indian events if you're talking about the subject matter at hand-- i.e. if the chatterboxes in the crowd were talking about the ceremony taking place, then that was okay. But Mrs. Patel says she had never heard of that 'rule' before and agreed that the people were being quite rude by blabbering on while the ceremony was taking place.

Again, it was kind of tough to follow what was going on as the priest-figure (not sure what the correct title would be) was chanting and various things were going on on the 'island' that I couldn't quite see. Every so often the priest would end a chant and say in a thick Indian accent something to the effect of 'and now is the time when the bride accepts the groom...'. They at least had the forethought to hand out some elegant booklets that explained the order of the ceremony and what was going on.

After a couple of hours of 'Ommm....'-- actually, the chants at times sounded like Hebrew, so there was a vague, visceral familiarity to the whole affair-- the ceremony ended and the crowd alit to the cocktail area for drinks and vegeterian appetizers served under a Ganesh carved out of ice. Pictures were taken, drinks were had, and eventually we made our way to the dinner room. Everything seemed to be behind schedule, but I was told that's how it is at Indian weddings. Dinner was delicious, and I wish I had more room for the desserts- there were various sorbets and I think a lot of stuff made out of paneer and sugar. Eventually I got pretty drunk and started jonesing for some coffee, but since the dessert was way behind schedule- apparently we were supposed to evacuate the museum by 10pm but dessert service didn't begin until maybe 10:05- I ended up dancing instead.

I think there's a factory that produces wedding and Bar Mitzvah and other special event DJs. Every such DJ I've seen has exactly the same voice- a kind of wacky, pitchy baritone- and uses the same mannerisms like 'At this time...' and '...so if you'll please take your seats...'. Sarika's brother and Akshay's brother made some nice speeches and then some Indian hip-hop was played and we danced. Well, they danced, and I kind of did my best Jacob Dylan* and just circled the dance floor and occasionally walked off to get more drinks.

Somehow Nick drove us safely home in spite of his car having a completely broken alternator (we needed about 3 jumps on the way back to the hotel) and him most likely being more than a little tipsy... and then we proceeded to drink more at the bar at the hotel and then in someone's room at the hotel. At around... I don't know, maybe 3am?... my narcolepsy circuit kicked in and I needed to be taken back to the room, where I found myself in my underwear and shirt sharing a bed with a very loudly snoring Muslim man four hours later. I hit the turnpike, drank the largest coffee I could afford from Starbucks, picked up my impeccably detailed Audi from home and tried to pawn it off on some sucker (no dice) and then took a train into NYC.

Next up in Bennett's Tales of his Wacky August Adventures- Bennett and Sako go to Peter Luger's and Bennett applies to the Apple Store!

rock on.

*lead singer of the Wallflowers... get it? ha!