A Canadian attends an Indian wedding, and is intrigued by the banana leaf plate and the bare-chested priest
A Canadian attends an Indian wedding, and is intrigued by the banana leaf plate and the bare-chested priest
Music in the air. Flowers everywhere. Women in colorful saris, well-dressed men, kids playing around. As soon as I got out of the car, I knew this would be a special day. I have attended several weddings in Canada. But this was the first time I was invited to an Indian wedding.
I tried to enter the main hall with the group I was with, but was stopped by Indian hospitality. "Breakfast, breakfast first," we were told. I tried to protest saying I just had breakfast, but ended up sitting by a long table. A banana leaf appeared in front of me. Then a waiter dressed in white got a bit impatient with my inaction. "Wash, wash," he told me.
I finally understood I had to wash the leaf with water because it would be my plate. Sorry my friend! In the cold country I live in, tree leaves are so small that if you would try to use them as plates in a wedding, you would end-up with a riot of underfed guests.
But there was no risk of being underfed at this wedding. What seemed like an endless army of waiters started to pass one by one, pouring all kinds of colorful food on my banana leaf. 
I couldn't believe how many people were working all around me. I tried to calculate how much such a wedding could cost but soon gave up, too busy to try all these new, amazing dishes.
My stomach over-full by my second breakfast pushing on the first one, I was finally allowed in the main room. The first thing that caught my attention was the priest. I'm used to Catholic priests old serious men dressed in white robes with stiff collars.
This one was standing with his chest uncovered and his forehead painted, smiling all around. What a contrast.
I almost fainted when I saw the bride. With her white dress, the flowers in her hair and all the golden decorations on her face, she looked like some kind of exotic beautiful princess. I stared with jealousy at the broom, but he looked like such a good guy that I felt happy for him.
Many people gathered around the couple and I tried to understand what was going on. The bride and the groom were separated by a sheet.u00a0 I saw there was feet washing and other rituals. The band was playing very rhythmic music.
I was surprised how casual the whole thing was. At home, weddings are held in churches. Everyone sits, keeps silent and watches the priest. How nice it was to see people coming and going as they want to, and talking together freely.
Then came the moment I thought was the most beautiful. The newly wed hold a coconut in their hands while people came to pour coconut milk on them and throw rice on their heads.
I waited to check carefully what to do. Then I took my place in the line. My turn came. I almost fainted a second time when the bride smiled at me. I felt ridiculously nervous as I poured coconut milk on their hands three times and threw rice on their head, totally afraid to do something wrong.
I'm still not too sure about the symbolism behind all of this. But I hope that somehow, I contributed to make sure the gods will make this new couple happy!
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