Baby Giggles

My Musical Alarm Clock

I was shocked awake at 3:15 on the morning of the 11th. A band, complete with drums and sax had set up shop outside the house. When I told Ganga the neighbors would surly kill us, he reminded me most of the neighbors were relatives and all were coming to the wedding anyway.
The time of day in which you are married in India is based on mookta. This means that the Brahmin priest who performs the ceremony selects the date and time based on a combination of personal and global astrological movements. Had anyone ever suggested to me that my horoscope would have me awake at 3 in the morning, I would have laughed. I am a much wiser soul now; wiser, and more sleep-deprived. “Our time” was dictated by the Brahmin who was to marry us to be at 8:41 in the morning. This meant that all the pre-wedding prep started in the early morning hours and the wedding ended in a luncheon. Ganga told me that he’s also been to late night weddings where dinner happens first and everyone waits until midnight or so to start the ceremony. So, in some ways, we were better off in the morning.
After being told there was lots to do and we had to hurry, Ganga and I were made to wait in the bedroom for about half an hour. An uncle came by and got Ganga. He came back a few minutes later in a skirt. Well, not really a skirt but a traditional Indian man-thing that resembled a wrap around pencil skirt. After checking to make sure I was still okay, he left again – leaving me with no information as to what was coming. A cousin came by with flowers for my hair. They were tiny and woven into a chain with thread, quite pretty and a lot of work for a day’s wear, but that’s what wedding are about everywhere, right? I got dressed in one of the outfits I had picked out a week or so before and had been saving. Then, I had to change into a sari that was lent by Ganga’s mother. It was to be the first of four outfits I would wear that day.
A few minutes later Ganga came back and it looked like he had been basted for cooking. He had turmeric and saffron on his head, ghee (clarified butter) on his arms, neck and face, and uncooked rice sticking in his hair. It was my turn. I was a little concerned.
I was given a betel leaf, a large leaf that looked to me like a banana leaf, and a banana to hold. I sat in front of the house with Hala, Ganga’s cousin’s daughter who was to be my bridesmaid/flower girl. Things happened around me, mostly chanting and I think some praying. Then, individual women came by and dropped uncooked rice, turmeric and saffron on my head. This is some sort of fertility ritual. Later, Ganga’s mother rubbed my arm and neck with clarified butter. At this point, I was told to go back inside and rinse off.
Cleaning accomplished, I returned to the street with Ganga where we sat together and were pelted with more rice by happy couples. Then, a “barber” came by to symbolically cut our toenails. Yes, part of the pre-wedding ritual in India used to be to get one’s toenail’s cut – ostensibly so one didn’t scratch their partner on the wedding night. Luckily, this tradition had gone the way of the dodo, so there is just a symbolic cutting now. I’ve included some pictures. Next up: the actual ceremony.

Henna

The day before the wedding, my henna got done. This was an extremely long process. Ganga also had some done on his hands. Many of the women of the family had henna as well. They used a thick green paste on their feet that created the same effect as well. Here’s tons of pics during the whole process.

Limited Time Only Exhibit!

Family started pouring in from all over the place over the next day or so (this was about April 9th). Mostly, I started to feel like a zoo exhibit. Muchlipatnam is a really homogenous place and the presence of a foreigner and an American is pretty rare (as evidence, the news story about the wedding). Also, while most of the younger generation has taken English for years in school, they don’t often practice it with a native speaker, so I ended up talking to a lot of kids and being stared at by a lot of adults. Here's some family shots.

news story about the wedding

Here's a local news story about the wedding.

I am ill

April 6-9th

Around this time, I started to get really sick and continued to stay that way for three or four days. I suppose the 16 hour overnight flights, the questionable hygienic practices and the climate change finally did me in. For the next three or four days I did little but sleep. At some point, we removed to Muchilipatnam, the town of about 250,000 where Ganga’s parent’s live. Ganga was super awesome during this period. He ran all over the place getting me juice and cold medicine and whatever else. Periodically, he’d call the doctor cousins and they would recommend a new medicine – I say recommend and not prescribe because he would talk to one of them on the phone and wander into the bedroom where I was sleeping with medications ranging from antibiotics to cough syrup with codeine in it.
One of Ganga’s aunts also performed a nightly exorcism on me. I don’t know if it really was an exorcism, but that’s the closest thing I can compare it to. I guess she thought I had gotten sick because of something evil. Anyway, she would pull me into the kitchen, hold rock salt in her right hand and circle the top half of my body, first clockwise three times, then counter clockwise.
For my part, I just slept and got lots of fluids. Eventually, some combination of exorcism, sleep and medicine did the trick and I got better.

Vijayawada

We eventually arrived in Vijayawada, where I suddenly had assignments. We went to a couple of department stores where I had to pick out fabric for clothes. Then, we had to get all dressed up to get a photo taken. This giant photo hung outside the function hall of the Indian wedding ceremony – enlarged and stuck on one of those vinyl posters that typically say things like: “one day sale” and “going out of business.” It’s a truly awful picture, but sadly I don’t have a digital copy of it. I’ll try to find one as quick as I can.

We were staying with Ganga’s cousin, who is a doctor, his wife, also a doctor, and their six year old daughter who can write, read, and speak in Telugu, Hindi, and English. Also, she can multiply up to ten. Of course, since she’s six, some of her learning decorated the walls in crayon. It was cute to see her scribbled b’s and d’s all over the living room and bedroom but I’m sure her parents weren’t too happy about it.Here's one of her in her school uniform.

There’s also a couple of pictures I took while hanging out on the roof. The neighbors had a palm leaf roof and were re-palming (can that be the right word?). I wanted to get in really close, but I thought it would be tacky. I guess this only needs to be done every three years and if it’s done correctly, it will keep the rain and wind out.