..that's all, just two weddings. :) Here are the journal excerpts:
That afternoon we went to a wedding celebration, we being my mother and all of our girl neighbors, Ailey included. Apparently it was a celebration just for women, taking place (I believe) after the wedding itself. I wore Farangiz’s blue flowery and gold-sequined traditional style dress, and looked just in place as I walked in to the court-yard and saw about one hundred or more Tajik ladies, all in traditional, dressy, long dresses. We made our way past the ultra-loud live music (a synthesizer, a drum, a clarinet?, and a singer) and past the long tables filled with women to one of the few open spaces left, a pavilion with pillows all laid out alongside the long, low table spread. We took our places, I sat next to Ailey and Hekayat, my favorite neighbor! She is the one with all gold teeth and severe looking eyebrows, but a heart of gold, I really love her. We were all rather hot and the music was so loud that mostly we all just sat there looking around at anyone that happened to be dancing, or the bride when she made her appearance from outside of the house, dressed in a different outfit each time and bowing low and silently. It’s called the ‘kelin salom’ and is basically what the bride does in order to show her thanks for the gifts and generosity of those around her. We went into the house later, dragged by Hekayat, to see the row of about a dozen different outfits hanging up on the wall, that she changed in to one by one and came out to bow to the crowd. Dishes of food, in addition to the raisins, almonds, watermelon, melon, apricots, grapes, chuk-chuk, cakes, salads, bread, juice, soda, and other niceties already on the table, were passed around – mantu, pieces of meat, and finally the plov. A lot of them got piled up on my and Ailey’s spot, as the token foreigners, and I nodded and took little bites whenever the neighbors urged, or whenever Gulsara Apa made vehement and at once threatening eating motions in our direction with a meaningful stare. People got up spontaneously to dance to the loud music playing, and Ailey and I were eventually pulled up as well to dance, which I did, attempting the local hand movements.
My mom took off pretty early on, saying she needed to get a haircut (which was a true reason, not just an excuse to leave) but I stuck around. Eventually I tried to leave with Hekayat, but was physically restrained by Gulsara Apa. We left a few minutes later with Ailey, and walked home with the neighbors. I love Tajik women quite a bit, they are so spunky and self-confident and humble and nurturing and motherly and feminine, all at once.
Yesterday I went to a really neat wedding. It started out pretty standard for Central Asia – Farangiz, Jamilya and I loaded up in a marshrutka and went to the Sogdian Restaurant. What with the new 150 person limit on weddings, we got there early to ensure getting a seat. We were greeted by some women (mothers of the brides and grooms, supposedly?) and then went inside. Despite the fact that we arrived late, the room was only partially full and things were still getting set up. Then the evening proceeded as follows: a lot of food at a large table (salads, breads, fruits – the usual spread), very loud music that we could barely hear each other over, impromptu dancing, our seats getting taken when we went to go dance, sharing seats with other people, more dancing, more food, more sweat because it got very very hot in the room (so hot that going outside was actually refreshing), Jonathan joining our table of women, Jonathan taking a suspicious amount of photos of Farangiz, Jonathan taking a satisfactory amount of photos of me at my demand, drunk men thinking they could dance with the American girl too because Jonathan was, little did they realize we are FRIENDS and there is a difference, Olim (a married, very drunk uncle of Farangiz’s) hitting on me and taking his picture with me, Olim winking at me from across the dance floor all evening, everybody getting into the dancing a lot more, holding hands in a circle as we danced, Jamilya Aya shepherding me away from the boys when they got too close to me for her liking, Olim offering to drive us to the groom’s house, us declining, and then finally we drove away to Jamilya’s mom’s house. I was a little confused about where we were going and why, but this is how it worked out: we went to the grandma’s house – beautiful and spacious courtyard, chock full of peach trees and plump grapes. Apparently the building part is spacious enough to house four “brides” (brides meaning daughter-in-laws, traditionally and still very wide-spread today is the tradition of girls living in the homes of their husband’s family, and being primarily in charge of its maintenance – cooking, cleaning, etc)! I went into one of the bride’s divisions, and it was just a little entry room, and then a large living room in the back – that was where she lived! I met 2 of the other 3 brides, and the 5 children that they share between them – taking turns watching, feeding, etc. I was fed many fresh fruits, that I enjoyed thoroughly. They kept offering Farangiz and myself chairs, which we kept declining, but as we wandered around the yard they kept following us with them, we finally sat down. I also met the grandpa, who was out in the courtyard lounging on a bed watching TV – apparently a back injury/back pains had kept him from attending the festivities.
Turns out we were at the grandma’s biding our time, for later that evening was another traditional part of the ceremony: accompanying the bride and groom to their new home! This was a double wedding, however, and so it was accompanying the brides and grooms to the their (still single) new home (in other words, the grooms’ parents’ home). We all assembled in the street, and awaited the arrival of the two main cars. When they pulled up, the bride and groom emerged, the bride in an embroidered thick veil that covered her head completely, and the groom in a traditional hat and robe. They erected a make-shift type of canopy above them with a blanket, and one person walked ahead of them with a torch. Then the drummer and the wood-wind player started up a rhythm, and we all walked, danced, clapped, and hollered our way down the street, accompanying the two new couples. At one point somebody started up a chant: ‘dum-du-dum-du-dum-dum-dum” to which we all shouted back “yar yar yar-ah-meh!” The dum-du-dum was actually words, different wishes perhaps? And the yar yar yar-ah-meh part is kind of like a “hurray” equivalent. It was some sort of traditional song. It felt like we were in a different century, wandering through the dimly lit, dirt back alleys of simple homes to the wavering light of the torch. All of a sudden a blaze lit up the sky – bottle rockets! Or some kind of bright, blazing fire work shot out of a little canister. The amazement I felt at seeing it made me feel even more archaic. Neighbors lined the streets, looking on somewhat solemnly. The crowd however was clapping, hooting, and dancing. Farangiz held my hand loosely as we walked along. We rounded a corner to see a blazing bonfire! Which we then danced around as the brides and grooms circled it. There was a buzz of excitement and fresh waves of dancing whenever the drummer struck up a new rhythm. Finally we went in to their home, an anti-climactic moment compared to the fun that preceded it. The brides went into their separate rooms and apparently underwent some kind of ritual that I didn’t completely understand. Possibly putting on or taking off a veil? Behind a large hanging curtain. I think there was something that had to do with the wedding night, which I got from Jamilya’s vagueness and slight giggling as she told me what was happening, but I didn’t quite catch what.
