When I came back later that afternoon, more progress had been made. Tables and chairs had been set up and a stage was cleared at the top of the court. Aha! I recognize this: there is going to be a wedding.
Wednesday evening it was clear that tonight would be the big event, it had to be. When I got home from the office that afternoon, the place had transformed even more and they were starting to bring out the flowers.
Sure enough, around 8pm the festivities began. I sat at my window, watching and listening from high above. The sun had set and the courtyard was illuminated in tiny white lights, accented by splashes of larger colorful lights here and there. A parade entered to the right of the stage and I couldn't help but wonder how that managed to happen with no tragedies -- they were entering from that crazy busy street where I find myself holding my breath everytime my driver pulls out into it. How did 20 marching band members and another 20 dancers line up out there without someone getting plowed over?
And then I saw them: the bride and groom; he dressed in head to toe white and silver, she in a bold red sparkling with gold, the two of them surrounded by a swarm if friends and family. From there, they were led up on stage where about 2 hours of photos and videos were taken, their guests enjoying what looked to be an amazing dinner from not one, not two, no not even three, but from FOUR different buffets.
Children dressed in brilliant colors ran around, laughing, playing, and doing what children do best: enjoying the present moment completely (something I often feel adults would greatly benefit from doing more of).
Having never attended, and certainly not coordinated, an Indian wedding before, I kept thinking that the ceremony had to begin soon. And that was something I wasn't going to miss. In fact, I wonder if it would be ok if I went to the veranda outside the lobby and watched? There were chairs, and a full view. When I got down there, camera in hand of course, I watched for a good 15 mins without snapping a shot. Was it rude to take a picture of these people's big day? Was I being invasive? Disrespectful? Should I even be out here? Finally, after convincing myself it was okay, I turned on the camera, held it up to my eye, and began framing the shots. After an hour of watching and taking only a few photos (it still just didn't seem quite right), I headed up... still having yet to witness anything resembling a ceremony. I'd have to catch it from my high rise view. I was pretty certain I was beginning to feel the mosquitos feasting on my legs (deep breaths, Mom, deep breaths).
At midnight, I turned off the light deciding I must have missed the ceremony or maybe it had happened somewhere else before the party came here? My jetlagged body was able to fall asleep just fine even through all of the commotion below. However, at 330am jatlag was no longer enough to keep me asleep and I could hear a trumpet (or something sounding like such) playing solo in the courtyard; I imagined the party still going on, with this being some sort of final performance. I lay there half wanting to get up and go to the window and half willing myself with all my might to go back to sleep (afterall it was going to be a full day of travel to the villages in the south). But of course, as those of you who know me would expect, I went to the window. Much to my surprise the courtyard was empty, the lights taken down, curtain-draped cabanas disassembled, and not a chair or table in sight. Two men sat on the stage talking, one with a horn in his hand. They looked exhausted. There was a brief why the F are you playing music when it's over thought that flashed through my sleepy head, but then I remembered: I, too, often feel the need to be soothed by the sound of music after working a big event.
The next morning, I learned from my India teammate, Tanya, that the ceremony actually happens at 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning, after most of the guests have left (and uninvited onlookers go to bed) and only close immediate family and intimate friends remain. And you know, I kinda like that idea.
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