Middle Eastern Fairy Tale (Alternate Title: Barbara's Guide to Wedding Etiquette in the Middle East)

7 September 2011

Arjan- Amman Jordan

8:00 PM

Greetings,  

            Last night I had the opportunity to go with my host family to a wedding for one of their cousins. He was marring a woman from Saudi Arabia, so most of the people there were Saudi. Hiba’s family, were the only Jordanian’s, and I was the only American (obviously). 

            The wedding started with a procession of cars that followed one another to collect the bride from her parent’s house. There was shouting, honking, and celebratory gunfire. I tried to capture the excitement for you in a video, but it was too dark to be any good.

            While we waited I watched all the Saudi women (friends and relatives of the bride) pile into car’s. In Saudi Arabia women wear more than just the Hijab and long sleeves that Hiba and her mom wear. They wear long black dresses and veils that cover everything but their eyes, much like this:

Note: I do not know these women. Well, maybe I do- how would I know? 

            When we got to the wedding hall we split up- women in one room and men upstairs in another to have coffee. After only a few minutes the bride and groom came in. They cut the cake, and had an exchange of rings. The bride was not dressed in black, but she did have a white cape and hood covering her head and body. None of it was quiet like a ceremony at home, all was rowdy- even the demurely dressed Saudi women. I think the official ceremony had taken place earlier and that this was more of a reception, but I can’t be sure. I rather unashamedly stood on a chair so I had a good view of what was going on. (Barbara’s Foreign Wedding Etiquette Rule 1: At some point you realize that you can’t really attract MORE attention than you already do. That point is when you are a 20-year-old Episcopalian of Scots Irish descent and are dressed like a secretary in a room full of women dressed like beekeepers. )

            The bride and groom danced (surrounded by their sisters) and then he left to go have coffee with the other men. As soon as he was out of the room a total transformation occurred. Black crepe, veils, and sashes went flying, and I watched agape as the dark eyed women I’d seen carrying their children into the hall revealed their party clothes. Imagine a cross between junior prom, Miss America, and Jersey shore. Dresses were brightly colored and revealing. Hair was teased high and lacquered into place. Makeup was painted on, and there was the most glitter than I have seen since the time I tried to make snow-scapes with my Sunday School students.

            All the women piled onto the dance floor. Hiba had given me a short lesson on Arabic dancing the night before, and so we went along too. (Barbara’s Foreign Wedding Etiquette Rule #2: The only time Rule 1 is not true is when you are a 20-year-old Episcopalian of Scots Irish descent and are dressed like a secretary in a room full of women dressed in prom and party dresses-and you dance like a spaz). Due to a handicap I have had since birth, I’m not very good at using my body the way the rest of party was (note: That handicap is that I am white and thus have no rhythm) so I stepped back to watch the craziness unfold.

            After awhile an announcement was made on the PA system which Hiba informed me was a note that the groom and his family were coming. Immediately the dance floor was cleared of everyone but his sisters and there was another flurry of black as the women re-robed themselves. They were all sitting down and fully covered by the time the groom and his male relatives entered. The family members took turns greeting the couple and giving them money, and then it was over.

            It was hands down one of the strangest experiences I’ve ever had. It led me to some very interesting thoughts about gender in the Middle East which I’ll rant about tomorrow when I’m capable of forming a coherent thought. I wanted to take pictures of the wedding, but it would be incredibly culturally insensitive for me to put pictures of the women without their coverings on- a little like posting locker room pictures, so you’ll have to settle of these few pictures of me and Hiba in the wedding hall.

This is where the bride and groom sit. I felt a tad awkward there. 

 The picture is off center because my nine year old host brother took it. He likes cameras, but has yet to master the art. 

That’s all for now, look for another thrilling screed tomorrow.

B