I made the trip to Shanwei, China, with 4 people I didn't know. Shanwei is a 3 hour bus ride from Shenzhen, the Chinese city bordering HK. I labeled this map myself:
First thing of note I saw was in Shenzhen; an ad featuring a lookalike of my dad:
With my propensity for requiring hospitals in China, I was happy to see there was one in Shanwei:
As long as I don't have a nose problem, all will be well.
We arrived in Shanwei, but were apparently still a long way from our destination, so we stuffed ourselves in 2 tuk-tuks to complete the journey. my POV:
We arrived at someone's village house. Windows and doors are perpetually open. People and chickens move about so freely that I never knew who lived where, who was married to whom, and which kids went with which adults. They gave us a nice lunch:
and they had nunchucks:
I asked why they had nunchucks. Answer: Chinese Kung Fu. Duh.
Then I asked where my friend Vincent the groom was. Answer: "He is making himself handsome." As you do. We had a few hours before the wedding festivities, so some people took me around the village:
Most people in the village had never seen a white person before, so I unintentionally caused what might be called a "stir." Old women were especially not shy about grabbing my arms, kneading them like bread and admiringly commenting on my pale skin. I tried to say that in the US, most people don't think being pale is cool, but it was completely lost. Most things I tried to say were completely lost. Shanwei is a Mandarin-speaking village. Very little Cantonese and definitely no English. At all. I was confused about 97% of my 2 days there. Kids showed interest as well. One kid said "thank you very much" to me--several times--despite the fact that I had done nothing to prompt thankfulness.
The bride and groom surprisingly appeared at the village house. (when you can't understand what anyone is saying, everything is a surprise). This was round one of photographs. The groom also gave me an invitation to the wedding. The calligrapher was unaccustomed to writing Roman script, so I was "Camber Carptern":
They still let me in--and I'm keeping that invitation forever. Off to the ceremony site. Kids came running to check out our decked-out rides:
When we arrived, I thought I would go inside to sit and wait, but surprise--I was given a red ribbon. I thought my brownies had won 2nd place at the county fair. Not so. I was on the staff. Not the serving staff (though the thought appealed to me that I might only serve the fish eyes rather than eat them), but the greeting staff. After all guests were properly greeted and seated, they set off a tower of pyrotechnics in a field across the street. The greeters had been given a device to activate upon the announcement of the entrance of the bride and groom. I thought it was a party popper, but it was in fact a sort of firecracker, dispensing sparks, smoke, and more glitter than a Mariah Carey concert. Surprise.
The ceremony nearly ended before I knew it happened because the officiate was an unlikely candidate and I of course had no idea what she was saying:
She had a shiny dress and a used-car salesman voice. She doubled as vocalist during the meal. The ceremony:
The bride magically changed her costume: 
She did this before the couple went around to drink with each table. When everyone lifted a glass of what looked like Jasmine tea, I did the same. It was not Jasmine tea. Is there such a thing as 100 proof alcohol? I forgot how to blink and couldn't speak for about 3 minutes, but no one noticed because all I could say in Mandarin was "Hello," "Thank you" and "I am an American." Those things had all been previously established. I got the bridal bouquet!
Typically, I stand aloof when the bride tosses the bouquet; but this bouquet was thrust upon me, along with the commission that I find a husband within the year or I will shame their families and doom their marriage. When I told the groom that I don't even technically have a boyfriend, his expression changed from benevolent hopefullness to abject terror and said, "You must try harder! You must!" It's on my to-do list, now, along with my family's 2009 Christmas Letter and applying to grad school. Experience of a lifetime--really, so much more to tell, like the guy in the wife-beater who watched me dry my hair for 15 minutes--but I can't waste another hour if I'm ever to find a husband in the requisite time frame.
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4 comments:
It's nice to know what I would look like if I were to smoke a pipe. What am I advertising, anyway? Wasn't there anyone there that looked like your mother?
The,
Dad.
You would look so austere were you to smoke a pipe. Like you're ready to sit down with a hard-back edition of a Robert Frost collection. You're advertising whiskey (I think), making you what some would call "an old drunk."
Mother was off having tea at the Peninsula again. She doesn't go in for eels and fish eyes.
Things from Cambers recent blog that Caitlin could write, word for word, on her blog:
"People - move about so freely that I never knew who lived where, who was married to whom, and which kids went with which adults. They gave us a nice lunch:"
"I was confused about 97% of my - days there. Kids showed interest as well. One kid said "thank you very much" to me--several times--despite the fact that I had done nothing to prompt thankfulness.
"(when you can't understand what anyone is saying, everything is a surprise)"
"Experience of a lifetime"
Superb post ma'am. puts me to shame. love, C
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