A Chinese Wedding

"Wait, was that the ceremony?" This was my response to the Chinese wedding I attended at the beginning of January. It seemed like more of a variety show than a actual wedding. Allow me to explain...
. . .
About 2 months ago I was asked to be in a Chinese wedding by a friend of the happy couple. "Really? Why?" were the only words I could find at that moment. Yes, I know that sounds a bit rude and ungrateful, but hear me out. In China, being an American -- white face, brown hair, blue eyes -- means being a bit of a celebrity. The myriad of photos taken (even during my class by my students), the constant yells of "hello!" as I pass by followed by the giggles of both gals AND guys, the stupid requests to perform at competitions we've only been invited to watch, being taken places so that people can be seen with us...it's ridiculous and confusing. So often it's just: "TIAOWU HOUZI TIAOWU" (dance monkey dance). Now you might understand my reaction when, not even knowing the bride or the groom but only the daughter of the groom's father's friends, I was asked to be the maid of honor. The MAID OF HONOR! I've never even seen these people before! But, as the American girl and in hopes of another China adventure, I tiaowu-ed.
. . .
I packed my overnight bag with 5 different outfits, not knowing what to wear as the maid of honor in a Chinese wedding. It was only when we arrived at a location a few hours away that I was informed that my services were no longer needed. (Typical of Chinese agreements to "save face" and not expose the breaking of an agreement until the absolute last moment when it seems like an unavoidable, unforeseen crisis [which it isn't] and then you are stuck with whatever they had intended.) It turns out, most people...actually, all except the bride and groom...wear jeans and sweaters to the wedding. It's incredible casual. I felt so under dressed but I was the same as everyone else. It even looked like one kid was wearing pajamas.
. . .
We sat in the banquet room of the hotel waiting for the couple to arrive. (Since there are no churches as we have in America, couples typically get married in hotels.) There must have been 20 or 30 tables set up for all the guests. We, the token Americans, sat with the extended family. My fellow monkeys didn't get enough sleep the night before which was evident by the way they held their heads in their hands in an attempt to comfort their throbbing heads from the blaring high-pitched Chinese music. I just laughed and took pictures.
. . .
Fog machines, colorful stage lights, Enya...typical Chinese wedding pre-game festivities.
...I think.
. . .
Photos of the couple were set up all around the hotel, including a WAY larger-than-life poster at the entrance of the hotel. This gigantic picture spanned 20 feet and went from the floor to the elevated ceiling. As we were told, the wedding photos are very important with a lot of time and money going toward them. The couple was photographed by lakes and rivers and fields and forests and parks and houses and everywhere. We were amazing at the amount and variety of pictures.
. . .
The bride and groom appeared once they had finished greeting all the guests. Pandemonium erupted as they walked into the room. They walked together down the elevated, colorfully illuminated aisle-- all I could think was "Project Runway". There was music and cheering and stage lights. It was as if the ceremony was the reception. The party had already started.
. . .
I couldn't hear most of the ceremony but that's okay because it was mostly in Chinese. It all looked very Western: the exchange of vows, the music, the kiss. But there was no designated officiant (or maybe I was just too short to see above the Asian people). It seemed as though they were marrying themselves or that there were a few emcees to provide a little structure to the ceremony. I'm still unclear on all that happened. I don't even know what to call it since the couple was already married and had been for several months. This was an additional ceremony for the friends and extended family. The funny thing was that a good percentage of the guests weren't even watching. They were just sitting at the tables munching on snacks and chatting with those around him. I bet half of the people were paying attention only to know when the food would come. And it did -- for the next hour.
. . .
We ate and ate and ate. Perhaps the most fun we had was watching the consumption of the raw lobster with wasabi soy sauce. An unsuspecting guest at our table dipped his piece into the huge mound of wasabi and proceeded to take a bite. We, the monkeys, just stared with eyes wide open waiting for the reaction. His face was calm and then his brow furrowed in wonder of why we were so activley staring at him. It took longer than expected but the wasabi hit and we all laughed as he frantically gulped down orange juice and red wine. It was surely a memorable experience.
. . .
More on this later and other stories. Gotta catch my flight to America!!!