It’s not everyday you are invited to attend a traditional Bengali/American wedding ceremony of people you’ve never met, in Cincinnati, Ohio. It was the union of Jamie’s college roommate Fahema, and her now husband Greg. It was the first wedding I’ve ever attended as just a plus-one, and therefore had no involvement in the proceedings, but attended all of the festivities. A glorious role to play. All that aside, it was just a wonderful celebration and I made some new friends. In Ohio of all places.
This is the last photo I took at the wedding weekend, but the only photo I could possibly lead with. Greg was violently ill the day of the wedding, for completely innocent reasons. Thanks to a friend with a doctor in the family, chemotherapy anti-nausea medicine (where do I get some of that juice?!) saved the day. The bonds of matrimony were complete, beers were opened and pizza was ordered.
Rewind a few days, to the pre-bridal ceremony. This was actually on New Year’s Eve, was totally dry, but had a great selection of coffee and orange soda. And dancing. It’s the ceremony where traditionally, the bride and groom first meet. The couple’s faces are smeared with turmeric, and friends and family feed them little pieces of candied fruit. Then the inlaws steal the groom’s shoes and make him give them money to get them back. This was the first time I had met any of these people. Fahema looked like some sort of royalty, and Greg looked like Jambi the Genie from Pee Wee’s Playhouse. “Fahema looks nothing like that usually,” Jamie assured me.
As part of the bridal party, Jamie wore a Sari, which I thought looked rather fetching, but she was anxious about. She was also anxious because for the previous eight hours she had an army of 4-foot-tall Bengali women yelling at her in Bengali. Which, according to Jamie’s impression, sounded awfully like German.
New Years Eves are always so disappointing, so when you’re in Cincinnati with a bunch of people you just met, it’s a great surprise to have such a good time.
Fahema, Greg, her cousin and another bridesmaid, Brooke.
I don’t remember his name, but he had neck to toe dinosaur footie pajamas, so there you go.
The ceremony. I’m told they are screwing in lightbulbs.
I love this picture of Jamie and Fahema.
I don’t really remember this picture, but this is clearly the most fun me and any of these people have ever had.
And that’s mostly it. Oh, a couple other things: We stayed in a suite, which was pretty cool with a kitchen and all, but we found a used condom on our balcony. We had this poor little man from the hotel staff come and get it, and I tried to sincerely and somberly thank him. He blew right past me, “no no no it’s okay, fine, don’t worry about,” as if to suggest this never ever happened.
Oh, and on the second day there, I got the worst nosebleed I’ve ever had. We’re talking gushing blood, backing up in my sinuses, throat and both nostrils, hyperventilating from the sight of so much blood. It was crazy. I don’t have any pictures.