Indian Trip, Part IV: Haldi to wedding
The Saturday morning (the 28th) was theoretically taken up with Shim & Iona's haldi ceremony. However Iona had advised us not to bother with this; in her own words, it would be 'tedious', and also we had shopping needs. We did stick our heads in at 10am, but found nothing happening, so went off to Fabindia in N-block market, where Collen and I bought another sari each. They are too beautiful to resist; mine was a lovely purple with gold and green edging and a tartan-esque pattern to the palla which was very apt.
We also made the first of several visits to Full Circle, a bookshop with an entire shelf of Agatha Christie. I caved at the cheap prices and bought the recently published Pratchett collected short works, as well as a Hindi phrasebook - which later provided much hilarity - as it had small sections on grammar and numbers which I thought might be useful. Then we headed back to the hotel, just in time to see the very end of the haldi and have lunch before a much needed nap.
At a surprisingly prompt 3pm, we went out for the mehendi, at which the bride and her female relatives and friends have henna tattoos on hands and feet. Somewhat predictably, this resulted in a room full of women unable to do anything while waiting the hour or more for the mehendi to dry. It was quite a sight, everyone sitting with hands outstretched like a scene from a very slow zombie movie...
(Iona's mehendi was incredibly intricate, and therefore unfortunately required a lot of very patient sitting, and sitting, and sitting... Fortunately someone brought wine in a glass with a straw, and various people also fed her ice cream, which was both amusing and very sweet.)
Colleen and I lost patience with the waiting by 6pm, and returned to the hotel to remove the dried henna and uncover the fantastically bright orange designs which made me sort of distracted looking at my own hands for the rest of the evening...
After changing, we went to what was specified on the schedule as 'under 30's go out to dinner'. This was the only event planned by Iona, and consequently had a dress code of 'whatever the hell you like!' in Iona's own words. We went to a restaurant where we had pizza (again, I am a crime against food) and booze - I could really get used to being in a situation where waiters attentively top up your glass the second it's empty!
The restaurant turned into a nightclub at around 10ish, which led to accidental clubbing in New Delhi, omg. Omg, omg. It was good, if loud enough that I did end up improvising ear plugs out of napkins!
On Sunday, we had a lie in. It was beautiful. I slept until sometime after midday, had some biscuits and further sleep, and was then woken at 2.30pm by Colleen shouting 'going down for help with saris now, room 302!' in a somewhat panicked voice.
There was a slight issue with timings, you see: the schedule had told us we would need to meet to be taken to the wedding venue at 5.30pm, or perhaps at 4.45pm, depending on how you read it (or, perhaps, which version you were given). As it turned out, we actually had to be ready at 4.15pm, and the group of us staying at the Allure hotel were meeting at 4pm to take some photos beforehand.
So. PANIC TIME.
...I still attempted to dress myself, before giving up in despair and running for the help of the various Indian aunties, with their fantastic (and large!) safety pins and cries of 'tighter! tighter!' etc. I looked fabulous once they were done with me, and dashed back upstairs - as much as one can, when wearing a sari and not used to it - for make up, jewellery and shoes.
There was a ceremony for the groom leaving, and then we boarded the bus again to be taken to the wedding venue!
Once we arrived at the venue - somewhat incongruously called 'Essex Farm' - we divided into 'friends of Iona' and 'friends of Shim'. The latter group stayed behind to accompany him, while Iona's group - including all four of us - went into the venue to join Iona's family in welcoming the groom's party. Shim and co. arrived with much fanfare: drums, dancing, etc. (though sadly no elephant); in fact we heard them for quite a while before we saw hide nor hair of them.
When they finally did arrive, we had the joyful task of showering - or quite possibly pelting - Shim et al. with rose petals. (I am entirely too proud of the fact that, quite by accident, I managed to get some lodged in Shim's glasses.)
Shim then stood in the middle of the room for a very long time; I wondered if this would go on until he snapped and murdered someone, thus proving himself worthy of Iona, but in the end Iona was brought out, carried by four cousins, covering her eyes and looking ridiculously beautiful. Like, omg so beautiful. (And sparkly!)
Once the bride and groom had seen each other for the 'first time', they got to go and sit down for a while, at least, even if posing for photos with absolutely everyone was probably not exactly restful. After photos, Colleen and I headed for the ladies in order to fix the issues caused by the previously mentioned cries of 'tighter! tighter!' i.e. to loosen Colleen's petticoat so that she could breathe, eat, drink and generally enjoy herself without pain.
We sorted Colleen out, and then separated into the cubicles where I made the awful discovery that my sari was pinned through my petticoat to my leggings. I exited immediately with terrified howls of 'but I can't pee!' and, not for the first or last time that week, had my clothes adjusted by a very competent perfect stranger. (She had small kids; that's the kind of stranger you're meant to aim for, right?)
When we came out, we found our seats had been re-appropriated, but on the plus side tea and coffee had made an appearence, and the final (?) part of the ceremony was beginning. We couldn't get close enough to see much of the wedding ceremony itself; then again, it was in Sanskrit so it's not like we'd have understood if we could've heard anything, so hey. There followed a long evening of chat, food, drink and more chat, before returning, very tired, to the hotel.
We also made the first of several visits to Full Circle, a bookshop with an entire shelf of Agatha Christie. I caved at the cheap prices and bought the recently published Pratchett collected short works, as well as a Hindi phrasebook - which later provided much hilarity - as it had small sections on grammar and numbers which I thought might be useful. Then we headed back to the hotel, just in time to see the very end of the haldi and have lunch before a much needed nap.
At a surprisingly prompt 3pm, we went out for the mehendi, at which the bride and her female relatives and friends have henna tattoos on hands and feet. Somewhat predictably, this resulted in a room full of women unable to do anything while waiting the hour or more for the mehendi to dry. It was quite a sight, everyone sitting with hands outstretched like a scene from a very slow zombie movie...
(Iona's mehendi was incredibly intricate, and therefore unfortunately required a lot of very patient sitting, and sitting, and sitting... Fortunately someone brought wine in a glass with a straw, and various people also fed her ice cream, which was both amusing and very sweet.)
Colleen and I lost patience with the waiting by 6pm, and returned to the hotel to remove the dried henna and uncover the fantastically bright orange designs which made me sort of distracted looking at my own hands for the rest of the evening...
After changing, we went to what was specified on the schedule as 'under 30's go out to dinner'. This was the only event planned by Iona, and consequently had a dress code of 'whatever the hell you like!' in Iona's own words. We went to a restaurant where we had pizza (again, I am a crime against food) and booze - I could really get used to being in a situation where waiters attentively top up your glass the second it's empty!
The restaurant turned into a nightclub at around 10ish, which led to accidental clubbing in New Delhi, omg. Omg, omg. It was good, if loud enough that I did end up improvising ear plugs out of napkins!
On Sunday, we had a lie in. It was beautiful. I slept until sometime after midday, had some biscuits and further sleep, and was then woken at 2.30pm by Colleen shouting 'going down for help with saris now, room 302!' in a somewhat panicked voice.
There was a slight issue with timings, you see: the schedule had told us we would need to meet to be taken to the wedding venue at 5.30pm, or perhaps at 4.45pm, depending on how you read it (or, perhaps, which version you were given). As it turned out, we actually had to be ready at 4.15pm, and the group of us staying at the Allure hotel were meeting at 4pm to take some photos beforehand.
So. PANIC TIME.
...I still attempted to dress myself, before giving up in despair and running for the help of the various Indian aunties, with their fantastic (and large!) safety pins and cries of 'tighter! tighter!' etc. I looked fabulous once they were done with me, and dashed back upstairs - as much as one can, when wearing a sari and not used to it - for make up, jewellery and shoes.
There was a ceremony for the groom leaving, and then we boarded the bus again to be taken to the wedding venue!
Once we arrived at the venue - somewhat incongruously called 'Essex Farm' - we divided into 'friends of Iona' and 'friends of Shim'. The latter group stayed behind to accompany him, while Iona's group - including all four of us - went into the venue to join Iona's family in welcoming the groom's party. Shim and co. arrived with much fanfare: drums, dancing, etc. (though sadly no elephant); in fact we heard them for quite a while before we saw hide nor hair of them.
When they finally did arrive, we had the joyful task of showering - or quite possibly pelting - Shim et al. with rose petals. (I am entirely too proud of the fact that, quite by accident, I managed to get some lodged in Shim's glasses.)
Shim then stood in the middle of the room for a very long time; I wondered if this would go on until he snapped and murdered someone, thus proving himself worthy of Iona, but in the end Iona was brought out, carried by four cousins, covering her eyes and looking ridiculously beautiful. Like, omg so beautiful. (And sparkly!)
Once the bride and groom had seen each other for the 'first time', they got to go and sit down for a while, at least, even if posing for photos with absolutely everyone was probably not exactly restful. After photos, Colleen and I headed for the ladies in order to fix the issues caused by the previously mentioned cries of 'tighter! tighter!' i.e. to loosen Colleen's petticoat so that she could breathe, eat, drink and generally enjoy herself without pain.
We sorted Colleen out, and then separated into the cubicles where I made the awful discovery that my sari was pinned through my petticoat to my leggings. I exited immediately with terrified howls of 'but I can't pee!' and, not for the first or last time that week, had my clothes adjusted by a very competent perfect stranger. (She had small kids; that's the kind of stranger you're meant to aim for, right?)
When we came out, we found our seats had been re-appropriated, but on the plus side tea and coffee had made an appearence, and the final (?) part of the ceremony was beginning. We couldn't get close enough to see much of the wedding ceremony itself; then again, it was in Sanskrit so it's not like we'd have understood if we could've heard anything, so hey. There followed a long evening of chat, food, drink and more chat, before returning, very tired, to the hotel.