"Mom where r u?" texted my daughter as I sit through yet another committee meeting. Who said building a community was an easy thing? Over 14 years established, ours is a work in progress.
The wedding invitation said 5pm ...it was nearing 7...I really didn't want to be on time -- usually that translates to being EARLY as I have experienced through the many weddings I have sat through. My daughter has been ready since 5 and I was taking my time. I deliberately wanted to be "fashionably late".
I Google-mapped the directions to the banquet hall and off we went; the wedding party was well under way. We walked into a roomful of women of all ages, swathed in outfits so colorful -- it as if we walked amongst vibrant rainbows swirling to the sound of DJ music -- Afghan music!
"Darn, I didn't know I had to come dressed in Afghan clothes!" I joked...I felt at odds in my western clothes -- my ' tween' daughter saying underneath her breath, "Mom, I feel so underdressed!"... No worries, we are here for the bride.
Not knowing what to expect, I was immediately put at ease with the welcoming warmth of the womenfolk who embraced and double-cheeked kiss me and asked the usual questions of "How is your husband? Your children?". The rules of pleasantries requiring I ask the same questions back -- I originally suspected I would not know anyone at this gathering, save for the bride and her family but as it turned out -- almost half of the guests in the wedding party knew me as either having taught them 10 years or so ago, or mothers of those students long past.
The beautiful bride dressed in deep green with white or silver, was sitting erect -- the Princess of the hour --center stage on a raised platform, serenely looking out into the crowd, a permanent smile etched on her face. Various members of the wedding party would come up and pose with her, a rotating photo-op with cameras, videos, I-phones all pointed in one direction.
I TOTALLY LOVED the ambience -- women, young and old sitting around tables ladened with flasks of green tea, crystal platters of sugar-covered almonds, fried spicy noodles, candies and chocolates. A group of young Afghan women taking turns on the dance floor, making billowy patterns of silk with matching long scarves trailing from around their necks or clipped behind their carefully coiffed hair... silver or gold jewelry adorning the tops of their heads, their necks, wrists and fingers. "How can they dance on such high heels?" my daughter asked me...didn't have an answer for that but I did notice one of the young ladies slip off her tall black heels.
After a while some of the other ladies came to the dance floor followed by a handful of children of about 3 or 4 years of age; the older women had discarded their shoes, preferring to dance without them. The young children were mimicking the beginnings of the traditional Afghan dances --shoulder, hands and feet moving in rhythm, surprisingly keeping with the beat and intently serious in following the adults.
At the adjoining hall was the men's side of the wedding party. A roomful of eyes would look up towards the partitioned doors, expecting to see the bridegroom emerge at various times during the evening; at some point, I snuck off towards their area, wanting to listen if the other half of the equation were also having a blast -- what I heard was in sharp contrast to the noisy celebrations of the women. Somber tones of the Qur'an was being recited...there was the quiet hush of reverent listening...the sound of a solitary male voice dominating.
Traditional Afghan Food -- rice, kabob, chicken, spinach etc. was served buffet style: a table for the main dishes, another full of delicate sweets and colorful fresh fruits. Once again, my host made sure that I was well taken care of, the sister-in-law, then the bride's mother and then two others came and urged me to be the first one to get a plate..."Let me know if you need anything, okay?" or "Can I get you anything?" to "You must get yourself some more food, do you want me to get it for you?". Next to the bride, I felt like I was the most honored guest.
My daughter and I were sitting with a group of young women ... This is what I often do at weddings because I find young people to be livelier and more entertaining than the sober faces and conversations of the matriarchs...ha, ha...even at my age! I knew that tradition dictated the wedding party to go on all hours of the night -- unwilling to pry myself from the scene and wanting to get a glimpse of the bridegroom, I waited as long as I can...Late into the evening, I had to respectfully bow out -- unable to 'hang' like an Afghan...
The following day, I logged onto FaceBook and saw a photo of the bride and the bridegroom as I pictured them ... Sitting together, face to face on crimson velvet chairs with bouquets of white roses and tulips laid gracefully in front of them...newly weds looking forward to a bright future, of a life shared together...
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Food for thought or taste: (You Tube): Tarastiles' “Morning Yoga Stretch for Flexibility"
My sister-in-law's scrumptiously,mouth-watering Carrot Cake
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