Day Five – Mehendi and sticky hands

Thursday was the day of Mehendi application – when I most uncharacteristically sat still for an entire five hours whilst henna was applied to my hands, arms and feet. It was intensely boring but after a while became strangely relaxing, with the gentle tickling of the henna being piped into elaborate swirls all over. The waiting for the mehendi to dry was the most boring part, and eventually I wiped the thick layer from my feet, ran out in bare feet, and into the Bridgette Jones parlour where I had booked my bridal facial, the first in a set of luxurious treatments which would culminate in hair and makeup for the wedding itself. Lying back whilst the henna dried into crispy swirls, whilst various unguents were applied to myface and wiped/scrubbed/polished/peeled off was a fairly surreal experience, but the facial was absolutely wonderful and left me feeling as clean as a new pin for the first time in ages.

Day Four – the throwing of yellow goo

Wednesday saw the Haldi ceremony, which I knew involved an awful lot of yellow goo being rubbed into the faces, arms legs etc of the bride and groom but I hadn’t realized quite how involved it all was. We arrived at V’s parents house, the location for the ceremony and I was quickly wrapped up in a yellow sari. No timid yellow colour this, but rather a particularly fetching shade of luminous banana, which looked pretty dreadful against my white skin, but a lot better once the haldi had been rubbed in. Haldi is basically turmeric, which is ground and mixed with water to form a thick gooey paste, and apparently does wonders for the skin in terms of brightening it and making it glow. It seemed to be pretty resilient stuff, and I was a bit concerned that I’d end up tripping down the aisle like a giant banana in a white dress, but I was assured by everyone that it would wash off in a couple of days and as this was only Wednesday, it seemed safe to plunge into the mayhem. All of the English guests were wearing white kurta pyjamas and looking like members of some weird cult, and they all lined up to take their turns in covering Vivek and I with haldi. Before they were given access to the gloopy bowlful however, the four sisters demanded money from them, in an elaborate ritual which saw people dancing around with notes, hiding money in pockets, pretending to give a few rupees and then whipping out a few thousand, and generally participating in the ritual. Everyone present got a good chance to throw some slop over us, by the end we were covered from head to foot, and Vivek had even had his trousers cut off and haldi rubbed into his every crevice.
After everyone had taken their turn with the haldi, we went to shower. After scrubbing myself all over I managed to get the bright yellow to fade to a jaundiced shade (in fact I looked exactly how I did when I did have jaundice except without the dodgy liver) and as I changed into yet another, prettier yellow sari, I admired my all over yellow tinge which I hoped would soon fade to the healthy glow I’d been promised.

Day Three – of car mixups and lost boys

Having learned from the lessons of the previous day (plan in advance, don’t hang around waiting for boys, go to ATM well in advance) we set off bright and early prepared to finish off the last minute shopping for the girls, as the boys had of course finished all their shopping the day before (sherwani – check, pointy shoes – check, dupatta (scarf for sherwani) check. Over and out.
WE managed to make it to the bangle shop where everyone whipped out their pieces of saree fabric and set about co-ordinating coloured bangles to match. Cheap and cheerful, everyone got away with armfuls of bangles for around 300 rupees, to add to the general glamour and glitz for Saturday night. Patience ebbed and tempers were occasionally frayed in the sultry heat as we all waited for each other to complete examining, purchasing, packing and wrapping but generally we all remained calm.

Day Two - of chaos and changing plans

Day 2 of the pre wedding preparations saw chaos in motion. Trying to co-ordinate 14 people and a three year old, for lunch and shopping may seem like a fairly simple task but in reality and amidst Calcutta’s very own brand of pandemonium, it was no picnic. We managed to get to the airport bright and early to meet the 2 latest arrivals from the UK, Rich and Nadine who arrived looking frazzled and dazed but delighted to have finally reached the end of a very long journey. Rich revealed that he’d slept for only 2 of the past 48 hours but nevertheless was up for the shopping expedition which we had planned for everyone to pick up their gear for the wedding reception. So after a delicious lunch during which I suddenly remembered that I had left everyone’s sarees at the guesthouse and had to charge back to pick them up so they would be able to select bangles to match, we headed to New Market. Imagine trying to steer a large party of foreigners through the dark twisted interiors of New Market, whilst from all sides hawkers and salesmen and beggars and scruffy street urchins pulled at clothes and tried to touch bright blonde locks of hair and pale skin, hoping to appeal to the soft hearted westerners who would be more than likely to dip into pockets give generously.

We headed first to pick up sherwanis for the guys …. And waited and waited … and waited … as they chased around to find a cashpoint. Apparently the UK banks have introduced new tougher security rules which basically means that none of our lot were able to get any money out of the ATMs so everyone was in a bit of a panic. Somehow they managed to beg borrow and steal enough rupees to get by, and joined us for the sherwani shopping. Boys all looked like white maharajahs in their gorgeous outfits, and I think they primped and preened more than the women. Next, salwar shopping for the girls. Having dispatched the boys to the Oberoi coffee shop, girls were free to shop to their hearts’ content – oohing and sighing over stunning fabrics bejeweled and glittering, shimmering and shining.

Interesting to see the British dealing with the mayhem that can be India. Brits are so used to having their lives measured out in 15 minute intervals, making plans weeks in advance for even a dinner date, and heaven forbid anyone who might just drop round for a coffee on the spur of the moment. We are, as a nation, bound by our collective need for order and for everything to be proper and in its correct place, for meetings to start on time, trains to run on time (though they rarely do, which gives us fodder for the moaning which we love to indulge in) and meals to arrive on time. India is the complete opposite, bound by chaos and the need to create chaos to be able to offer solutions, meetings which never begin on time and always due to ‘the traffic” (as if its not part and parcel of life), and trains which ironically DO run on time. In India its unusual for a plan not to change, in fact any preparations however painstaking will normally be turned upside down and back to front before the day is done, and that’s all acceptable and normal. We Brits (and I include myself even though I’m used to this system now) get so uptight when plans change, because we are programmed to make things happen on time and without delay. In India, there are delays for no reason (or so it seems) or for reasons which may seem unacceptable or odd to us (traffic, prayers, stopped for chai, illness in family etc). When plans change here, Indians take it in their stride and adapt to the new arrangement without asking too many questions. Brits huff and puff and generally get hot under the collar. When there are delays which make waiting a necessity, the Indians calmly get out their dabbas, drink chai, read the paper and smile all the while. Whereas the Brits huff and puff some more, grinding their teeth with the effort of not wringing anyone’s neck. Always fun to see afresh the cultural differences between our countries.

Friends and Family

Vivek's Granny .... somewhat bemused by all the activity ....

Day One - of worlds colliding

So the first of my friends arrived from England into Calcutta yesterday, and we all met up at VIvek’s sister’s place for lunch. Talk about twilight zone, it was just so bizarre to see my two best girlfriends Sarah and Justine and Sarah’s adorable 3 year old , one of my oldest and dearest friends Jamie and his Israeli friend Maya, old friend Jimmy and his wife Sha … sitting in Jo’s living room in Calcutta tucking into Biryani. It was truly one of those – am I awake or am I dreaming moments, and as I’ve been having increasingly bizarre dreams for weeks about the wedding, it was hard to differentiate.
All the guests have settled into the cutesy little guesthouse we’ve booked, and acclimatizing themselves to Calcutta’s pace. Those who have visited before are fairly relaxed and enjoying the familiar sights, sounds and smells which are so generic to any Indian city, those who are coming to the continent for the first time are a little more wide eyed, a little more challenged by the spicy dishes, and certainly not entirely relaxed as we hurtle around the streets in Calcutta’s traffic.

One week countdown ....

One week today and I’ll be waking up as a newlywed. Can’t believe the time has finally come, and we’re actually living all those excel lists and plans and e mail promises. Seems like we’ve been planning this forever, I can’t even remember a weekend when we haven’t had to shop for lehenga, go for wedding dress fittings, send e mails to guests reminding them to confirm flight details, speak to sister in laws about accommodation plans in Calcutta, order rings etc etc. But I think we planned it all pretty well and down to the last detail, finally. Now all that remains is to see how far life imitates the plan.
Of course, the best laid plans always go awry, and last minute hiccups should be savored rather than stressed over. My ability to relax and go with the flow was sorely tested yesterday when I decided to show Mum my amazing bridal lehenga …. And so I shook out the jewel encrusted skirt, flaunted the backless bodice and reached for the dazzling dupatta … the dupatta (scarf part and very integral to the entire outfit) … which was nowhere to be found. After scrabbling frantically through the cupboards and searching my brain for its whereabouts whilst my husband to be tried to calm me down, it was clear that the dupatta had not accompanied the other parts of the lehenga home. WE rushed to the store …. I tried to stop my voice from going squeaky as I breathlessly asked the patient salesman – my lehenga, my lehenga, no dupatta, see …. Calmly he reached for his book of receipts, located one and informed me that I had in fact left it back for minor alteration a month previously. Doh!!! Shamefacedly I retrieved the gorgeous item and finally banished all nightmarish thoughts of being the world’s first dupatta-less bride.
Mum and Dad and Julie arrived 3 days ago, and we’ve enjoyed catching up and getting them prepped for the wedding events. Picked up a lovely salwar for Mum, another dazzling lehenga for Julie (though of course not as blingy as mine J) and a sherwani for Dad. Then went shopping for bangles and bindis, the best part. Simply hold out your lovely bright saree/dupatta/blouse, stand back and allow the banglewala to mix and match from his vast and glittering collection of brightly coloured bangles, some silvery hued, others all colours of the rainbow, some studded with crystals and pieces of glass which catch the light as you glide through the room. Within a few seconds, he has feverishly unwrapped and mixed and matched a set of bangles, one for each arm, which perfectly complement your outfit.