We went to Bangalore for a wedding - my friend's daughter's. The festivities started the evening we arrived but were jet lagged and tired out of our gourds due to a long layover/delay at lovely JFK airport and the kids having engaged in marathon movie watching on the flights over. So we skipped the engagement ceremony, the turmeric ceremony, and a few others and made it to the three main events: the Sangeet - an evening of music and dance, the wedding, and the reception - spread over four days. Each involved a few hundred to a few thousand guests, drinking, eating, friends and fun.
An hour or two into the Sangeet, Jo yelled over the music into my ear "I want an Indian wedding for Vivian!". Check this blog in a couple of decades.
The kids made friends. Evan learned the Indian name for tag - "catch-catch". Vivian and Riya exchanged their parents' phone numbers and vowed to keep in touch. Jo rocked a saree and ate a traditional lunch served on a banana leaf in style. And we kept running into the same other white guests hours before everyone else because of a poor understanding of local customs.
An hour or two into the Sangeet, Jo yelled over the music into my ear "I want an Indian wedding for Vivian!". Check this blog in a couple of decades.
The kids made friends. Evan learned the Indian name for tag - "catch-catch". Vivian and Riya exchanged their parents' phone numbers and vowed to keep in touch. Jo rocked a saree and ate a traditional lunch served on a banana leaf in style. And we kept running into the same other white guests hours before everyone else because of a poor understanding of local customs.
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