Reception Day started out like any other day. Our hotel was in the center of Bangalore, and every morning around 5 a.m. we were woken by the Muslim call to prayer. There must have been a mosque within a half mile of our hotel. I'm not complaining though. It was pretty, a bit surreal, and it ensured that every morning I was reminded that I was in a foreign place. So... Reception Day started with a Muslim call to prayer. After that the day was very much like the other days in Bangalore. We went shopping...at Commercial Street...again. This time was more exciting though, because for the first time we went on our own, without any one from India to help us out: Vivek and his family were busy with a ritual that I believe was meant to mark his transition from one stage of his life to another (hopefully he'll write about it at some point).
My Uncle Bill arrived early the day before so he hadn't had a chance to see much yet (Amazingly, he spent his first day taking pictures of the mehndi). So we all took a trip for some much needed shopping (it's true that, for some reason, a wedding means that the shopping that's already been done will never be enough). I desperately needed shoes that would be appropriate for the reception and wedding. Vivek had been telling me for weeks that my flip flops would be fine since no one would see them underneath the sari. I had foolishly believed him until I noticed that you can see the shoes that women wear under their saris. In fact they're very obvious. After realizing this, the flip flops were out and some sparkly new shoes were in. Our first stop at Commercial Street was an open-air shoe store where my female counter parts and I spent some time trying on shoes. I bought four for about $15. I even bought a magenta pair of flip flops that I, uh, wore for the reception. But they did sparkle - they had sequins! I might even go so far as to say that they were like an Indian version of Dorothy's slippers, but they weren't covered in rubies, so I won't.
After Shaela and my mom picked up some clothes that they had tailored (salwar kameez that they bought a couple days earlier) we had some time on our hands, so we went into a few stores. There was one shop that stands out quite a bit. And this, among other things, is why:
You see, the shop owner was a very friendly guy (as most shop owners seemed to be). He was also very blatantly trying to sell anything our gaze happened to fall on. I did my best to avoid him and pretended to be an unfriendly person who has no money (ok, I didn't have to pretend much). However, I was with three open, caring, and yes, very friendly family members. He had us you see - and he knew it! So he chatted us up and found out that I was getting married. Nice guy that he is, he offered me a wedding gift (see the picture above). I briefly tried to refuse but met with an extreme look of disapproval. So I thanked him and wondered what this thing could possibly be. He showed me, as I will show you:
My family and I spent a lot of money there that day. And because there was always something else that we "just had to see," it was very difficult to leave. We made it out eventually.This shopping trip took most of the day, so by the time we got home it was time to get ready for the reception. Vivek's mother had arranged for the two women who had applied the mendhi the day before to come back to the hotel to help get me ready for the reception. Sometime that afternoon one of the women had caught a cold and said that she couldn't do it anymore. This might not normally be such a bad thing, but trying to get someone else to fill in for her at the last minute and with Bangalore traffic was horrible. I wasn't involved, but I say this because I kept getting updates from Vivek about how his mother was on her way over to the hotel, oh no, wait! now she's going out to a distant village to pick up the woman....nope!....she's going home to pick up a relative who will help. And oh - did I mention that she was traveling in an autorickshaw in the rain? That couldn't have been a fun experience for her. She, Pinky, and Renu (Vivek's Aunt) eventually arrived about an hour before the reception was supposed to start. In the meantime my sister Shaela had graciously agreed to start my make-up: By the time they got there I was well on my way to looking much better than I normally do.
Once Vivek's mother and relatives arrived we had to select the sari that I would be wearing for the reception. I had thought that this would be the one that Vivek's parents bought for me before I arrived. However, for the reception I was to wear the most "grand" sari and they apparently thought that one I bought earlier in the week was better. Selecting the sari actually took a bit of time and there was much discussion. In the end I realized that this must have been because they were trying to figure out how I should wear the sari. It seems that there are at least two ways to wear a sari - the one that most people are familiar with, and another way, called Gujarati style. They eventually went with Gujarati style. Here's a picture Thos took once they had it on me. In it, Pinky is putting one of Vivek's mother's prized gold chains on me.
You may notice that my shoes are not visible. Funny. Oh well. The sari ended up being very long and I had a difficult time not stepping on it throughout the evening. It may not be obvious, but for practical purposes, stepping on your sari is a very, very bad thing. Underneath all that cloth there is, thankfully, a skirt. To wear a sari, women tuck parts of the long length of the sari into the skirt and then fold, tuck, drape, and pin the rest of it. Stepping on the sari pulls it out of the skirt and leads to a mess. I never got to that point, but there was a fear in my heart that it would happen, and worse, that it would happen while I was walking to the reception stage. It didn't happen but I shuffled rather than walked the rest of that night. And thinking about those shoes again, this may be why shoes are normally visible under saris....I wonder if the maroon flip-flops (with sequins!) is why they made the sari a little long....huh.We did finally make it to the reception. As you can see from this picture, our reception was the function of the day at the White House.
The reception was in a ballroom called the "White House" in a hotel ("The Capitol") so it does actually make sense. It was a pretty simple reception - there was a delicious buffet and silver and red velvet thrones for me and Vivek. Vivek and I spent the reception on a stage sometimes sitting in, but usually standing in front of, two large silver and red velvet chairs. While we were there we endured hours of a bright video camera light coming from one direction and an incessant flash coming from a camera in the other direction. In all of that my Uncle Bill also managed to take a picture or two, though sometimes it did look like the other photographer was unhappy about having his turf violated. All of this was done so people could give us gifts and have their picture taken with us. Here's one that Thos took. I believe that most of these people work with Vivek's father at the bank (his father is the guy on the far right).
Those are all of the pictures that I have from Reception Day. Sorry it took so long for me to post them....and that I'm going to save wedding day pictures for another time.P.S. In defense of my plan to wear flip-flops to my wedding reception - we stood there for a very, very long time. There were few breaks. I needed comfortable shoes and flip-flops mold to your feet. They also pack well. Well, there's that and the fact that I like to pretend that I don't care about these sorts of things....
