Newsletter - Special Edition 1 - 6 September 2005 – Tuesday

Sep 23, 2005 5:59 AM

Newsletter - Special Edition 1

Due to popular request, I am jumping *way* ahead of my

current newsletters to send this Special Edition about

the the enjoyable Emirati wedding party I attended

recently.  The next issue of the Newsletter will take

up where #11 - Part Two left off.

BTW, about the set of photos I sent recently (I know

y'all have seen them before, but ...) I wanted to

remind you that all but one were taken at the Mercado

Mall in Dubai, where they were celebrating a Disney

themed week during an annual month-long city-wide

event called Dubai Summer Surprises.  It made for a

fun and exciting time at the mall!

Enjoy!

SPECIAL EDITION

6 September 2005 – Tuesday

Last night I went to an Emirati wedding party! It was a wonderful experience. I was invited by telephone the day before the event by a National staffer at Maqam. The wedding was her brother’s. I got the background on attending weddings from Mary Kay and a National staffer at Zayed, learning that gifts are not taken to a wedding party, that the women’s and men’s parties would be held separately in the same hotel, that fancy dress was not required (I own nothing fancy, even in the states, so that would have eliminated my attendance right there!) and that I could take a guest – or even guests, I suppose – who had not been invited. I decided to invite Susette, the daughter of the an American couple who is visiting from the states for a few weeks, because I wanted to go but not alone, I didn’t know if any other library staff or anyone else I knew would be there, and I thought Suzette might not have another chance to attend such an event. She was eager to go. So I decided to wear the only dress I brought with me that I haven’t worn to work, a dress of bright orange batik print, empire-waist, ankle length of broomstick crinkle fabric. Suzette showed up in pink chiffon. In the US those colors would clash but here are very acceptable together. My dress had the disadvantage of having sleeves that exposed by elbows, which I realized I would get away with only because I was a Westerner.

We arrived by taxi at the Al Ain Intercontinental Hotel and found our way down several turns of tile steps having walls decorated in colorful tiling to the banquet hall below. Music was so loud it could be heard all the way to the lobby. At the bottom of the steps and to the right were two huge sets of open double doors leading into the hall and a party that was in full swing. It was scheduled to start at 8:30 and it was nearly 9:00 by the time we arrived but these are come and go as you please events. Just inside the doors, were two lines of older and elderly Emirati women wearing black abayas and shaylas and most of them wearing burgas (gold-colored metal partial-face covers shaped kind of like large mustaches that hide strategic parts of the face, such as the nose and/or lips, which can be considered too sensual to be viewed by men). They were smiling and greeting guests by shaking their hands and saying – well, something welcoming, I’m sure, but I couldn’t hear anything because the music was so loud!.

My thought is that in one line were women from the bride’s family and in the other were the groom’s relatives. I shook hands with each one and said, “Assalom alaykum,” and smiled. I’m sure Susette, behind me, was following my lead in shaking hands as I followed the lead of a couple of Emirati women just ahead of me. One of the women graciously led Susette and me to a table as I took in the sight. The room stretched out to my left and right. In the center of the room was a fashion show-type runway leading to the back of the room and a stage that was decorated with a triple-arch backdrop, a larger, higher arch in the center and two smaller, shorter ones on either side. In front of it were two large arm chairs. Upholstered in red velvet with golden medallion-like decorations and with a gold-painted carved wood frame and legs, the chairs were just behind a low table holding a huge bouquet of fresh flowers. On either side of the stage was a pedestal holding a vase of what looked like roses - red, yellow and white (the white ones might have been chrysanthemums).

Most of the rest of the room was filled with large circular tables covered in starched white tablecloths, and table settings of white china, glass goblets and silverware. Each table had large bottles of bottled water and several small plates of food including taboleh (a salad of finely chopped greens, tomatoes and cucumbers) and hommos. We were led to a table. There was only one table between us and the runway and two tables away from the stage. The loudspeakers were going full blast with traditional and popular Arabian music. Instruments seemed to include a synthesizer, tambourine, string instruments and who knows what else; it was so loud I couldn’t concentrate on details. A male singer was singing songs that everyone was obviously enjoying – I did, too, except for the volume. It wasn’t until later in the evening that I learned that there were live musicians performing; they were hidden behind a screen of yellow draping in the far left corner of the room because they were males! On the runway were a few teenage girls and soon a woman and some young girls, dancing in what was apparently traditional style. It consists of feet movements that were hard to see because everyone was wearing floor-length dresses or skirts but seemed to be an up and down motion combined with a little slide forward when one particular foot touched down. The arm movements were similar to Uzbek dancing and Hawaiian hula arm motions but the distinctive feature was the hip movement! It, too, was similar to the hula but with very short, jiggling movements. Many of the dancers tied a shayla or similar length of cloth around themselves so it rode low on the hips and, oh my, did those hips and buttocks shake! Most of the dancers, including the woman who was on the large side, had a very undulating movement going to the strong beat of the music. One teenager was thin as a rail and although she was dancing as well as any, she had no extra padding on the buttocks and it just didn’t have the same effect. One of the most interesting movements was done by the large woman and the slender girl; they got down on their knees with their hands on the ground and really let those hips move. I was frankly startled but no one else seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. At another time those two did a very intimate looking movement consisting of backing up to each other and letting their backsides bump into each other. The people dancing on the runway changed throughout the night and although the opportunity to participate seemed to be open to anyone who wanted to dance, most of those who did were teenagers and young girls.

Seated at our table and across from us were two middle-aged women and two teenage girls, all wearing black abayas and shaylas. The women wore burgas. They greeted us by smiling, nodding and saying something we couldn’t hear because of the music. We responded the same way and they started offering us food from among the offerings on the table and we tried small portions of several things. When I had a chance to look around I saw that all the tables in the room were mostly full and most of the women were wearing the traditional clothing including many women were wearing burgas. There were a few women wearing colorful head scarves and dresses who were likely Sudanese or possibly Egyptian, and a handful of those who were not at tables were obviously maids who had come to look after the children of the families they worked for. Susette and I were the only Westerners in the room! And I was definitely the only one with grey hair showing. The next thing I knew, I was being greeted effusively by a young woman with long hair, dramatic makeup and a very low-cut, very revealing dress lavishly decorated with beads, sequins and other decorations. It was sleeveless, revealing henna decorations from her fingertips to above her elbows. It took a moment for me to realize it was M, the co-worker whose brother’s wedding it was, who always wears an abaya and shayla at work. I’d never seen all of her hair before although she wears heavy makeup even at work. We greeted each other with the traditional 3 or 4 kisses with right cheeks together and then the same on the left. I hollered an introduction between her and Susette, who made the same greeting. She was obviously delighted that I had come and welcomed us warmly. We tried talking for a minute but I honestly couldn’t hear a thing she was saying and tried to pantomime what the problem was. She understood, again welcomed us and then went to sit with her family on a red plush sofa which was near the stage at an angle from which they could see the guests, the stage and the runway.

A few minutes later another co-worker, B, who was wearing an abaya and shayla, came up to me and greeted me. We did the cheek-kiss thing, she introduced the girl with her – her sister, I think, but couldn’t hear for sure – with whom I shook hands; I introduced them to Susette, who did the cheek-kiss thing with my co-worker and shook the other’s hand. B said that two of the other staffers (an Egyptian and a Sudanese) had planned to come but weren’t there. Then they went off to sit somewhere else. Susette and I enjoyed looking around at the guests. Most but not all were wearing the black traditional dress but those who were not were wearing clothing so elaborately and expensively decorated in beads, sequins, jewels and exotic trims that it put any fashion show or beauty pageant gown competition into the distant background. Susette, who wears very stylish makeup, called the women’s make up works of art and said that even her friend in the states who used to be a makeup artist in Hollywood couldn’t do anything approaching the elaborate styles we were seeing. The hairdos, too were elaborate works of art, piled or hanging down, creatively highlighted, totally amazing. The lavishly made-up, gowned and coiffed ladies made bright splashes of color against the overall background of guests wearing black, black, black.

Then came the food! Huge platters at least three feet across piled high with fancy rice that reminded me of the Uzbek traditional dish, Plov. It had finely chopped carrots, greens, golden raisins and exotic spices in it. On top was what was probably (sorry, Gina, please shut your eyes and don’t read the rest of this sentence!) a roast baby lamb. The Emiratis at our table insisted we take some food and we gladly dug into the rice with the large spoons at our places. It was delicious. Then they urged the meat on us. Having observed guests at other tables spearing pieces of meat with their forks, I grabbed a fork and made a stab, eventually with much effort and a lot of twisting and turning of the fork, pulling away a piece about five by three inches in size. I placed it on my plate as I had done with the rice although the others at our table just ate directly from the huge dish. Using a knife, I cut the meat into bite-sized pieces and ate it. The flavor was delicious. The rice I also ate in small bites from my plate. I figured the others at the table would just have to think that I was an uncouth American by not following protocol of eating directly from the dish, but they were very gracious. Throughout the night, we exchanged a lot of smiles, nods and unheard comments (theirs in Arabic, ours in English with a few Arabic words from me).

Throughout the evening, waitresses came around carrying and offering various goodies. They were either hotel employees from Southeast Asia who wore white blouses and long black skirts or were Sudanese or Iranians in brightly colored dresses and head scarves. Some carried trays of tiny cups of something on tiny saucers. I took one of each for Susette and I, thinking it might be chocolate but then we realized it might be coffee instead and since our mutual religion forbids drinking coffee, we didn’t even try it. Others came around in twos, one bearing a traditional Arabian coffeepot, brass with a bulb shaped bottom, artistic handle, domed top and beak-shaped pouring spout and the other with small, u-shaped cups without handles and I knew they were serving coffee. A girl came around carrying a lovely glass bottle with metal trim filled with what turned out to be perfume with a slender metal tube going down inside it. She waited for guests to extend the inside of their wrists to receive swipes of perfume and then – for Susette and me, realizing these Americans didn’t know what to do, helped me dab it behind my ears, and at my throat. The scent was very pleasant and very Arabian smelling.

Then a woman with burning oud (incense) in an oud censer came around and proffered it toward the guests. Having observed others and being invited by her, I used my hands to waft some of the smoke toward my face, sniffed it, smiled and thanked her. Fortunately, it was very pleasant and not strong smelling, like some of the incense that vendors and shops at the malls burn! One waitress brought around glasses of orange-colored liquid, one of which I took and thought it was either guava or mango but very mild and sweet, not perfume tasting as is usually the case, or maybe it was apricot or peach juice, come to think of it. Several groups of two waitresses each came around later in the evening bearing huge handled oval baskets (at least three feet long and two feet wide) packed with artistically-arranged foil-wrapped chocolates. I see these kinds of candy packages everywhere; there are special shops that sell nothing but “sweets” in gorgeous-colored foils, packed artistically with lace or other trims between rows of different-shaped chocolates into baskets, tins, chests, plates or anything else that you can think of that holds something. I watched as these baskets made the rounds to see how people took things from them. Most people plucked at least three items and some shared with family members at the table, others just kept them. So I spotted three shapes I wanted to try and when the basked came around to me, I picked three, one shaped like a large tear drop, a square one and a flat rectangular one about three inches by one inch. I ate the teardrop one right away and saved the other two until today. Another girl came around later in the evening with perfumed water which she dabbed onto the palms of our hands. Following the lead of others at our table, we rubbed it onto our hands as we would have done with hand lotion. It had a lovely, light fragrance and might have been rose water but, never having actually seen or smelled rosewater, I am not sure.

At one point I realized that very few others in the room were wearing glasses. I spotted only three, a young girl and two middle-aged women in black. I think that was it! All this activity and observation took up some time and then M came over to sit with us for a while when the music died down a bit and told me some of what was about to happen. The bride would come in and then later the groom would arrive (although sometimes grooms were too shy to come into a room full of women and didn’t show up at all). When the groom came, he would come up onto the stage where the bride would be and might or might not give the bride “a kiss on the head.” Then the bride and groom would sit down on the chairs on the stage and drink something (non-alcoholoic) from the same glass and then might share a small cake. The latter was not traditional but had been picked up from American movies or TV shows and was becoming widely used. Sometimes the grooms do something else; for example, she said that her auntie’s husband had also sung to the auntie, but that apparently was a rather rare occurrence. Susette said she’d love for her new husband to sing to her (she’s not married and not engaged yet) and I thought it sounded pretty good, too. I also got to meet M’s baby girl, who is absolutely beautiful and was cute as can be; she smiled and smiled at me when I talked to her in a mixture of Arabic and English. A very short older woman in an abaya, shayla and burga came up to M then and M said, “This is my mother.” I stood, shook her proffered hand and said, “Assalom alaykum.” We smiled and nodded at each other, then she took the baby and M excused herself and went back to sit with her family. Soon B, the other co-worker in attendance, came by with her sister or friend and said good night; we did the cheek-kiss and then she and Susette did and we shook hands with the friend.

Not long afterwards, the highlight of the evening began when the bride arrived through the same doorway we had entered by. She was preceded by two young girls holding large handled baskets of rose petals. Tossing petals as they went, they crossed the floor to the ramp, ascended it and strolled along its length to the stage; they were followed by two teenagers holding long, thick lighted candles decorated with twined flowers, then came the bride in an extremely elaborate white, sleeveless, low-cut wedding dress that must have weighted at least 100 pounds with its long train and even longer trailing veil, its petticoats and layers. She was holding a large, lovely bouquet of fresh flowers, was wearing elaborate makeup and looked beautiful. I’m assuming she was between 18 and 20 years old. Her hair was up in a lovely style and her hennaed arms and hands were beautifully displayed. By tradition, she had to walk the length of the ramp to the stage, turn and walk the length of the ramp again, then turn and walk back to the stage. She made it down, half-way back and then turned and headed for the stage. A young woman at Zayed had told me that her wedding dress last year had been so heavy she was barely able to make the trip along the ramp to the stage, where she practically collapsed into the chair; there was no way she could have traversed the ramp twice more! This bride remained standing upon her return to the stage, smiling and posing for pictures by the two Southeast Asian expat ladies who were videotaping and taking still shots. Then she went to each side of the stage and stood, smiling at the guests. I guess that was so everyone would get to see her clearly. Then she finally got to sit down while more photos were taken.

Then there was a buzz of excitement in the air, and a lot of swishing of black shaylas and abayas as women who had removed those black garments to show off their dresses quickly covered themselves. People were turning in the direction of the doors and I turned, too. There, coming down the stairway was a group of about ten Emirati men and several boys wearing the traditional white dishdashas and either white or red-and-white checked head coverings surrounded by black agals. It was very exotic and it made my heart beat faster but that could have been because the music suddenly picked up pace and was throbbing through everyone. The groom came through the doors first, distinguished by the fact that he carried a thin wooden cane, followed by the others who were probably in some order according to their relationship to the groom which is unknown to me. The groom was young, very nice looking, not particularly tall and possibly a bit portly. He was bearded, of course, with the very tailored-type beard popular here. He mounted the ramp and walked its length, followed by the others. Meanwhile I noticed that some women were hurriedly covering the bride’s face with part of her veil. When the groom came up to the bride, he grasped her veil with authority and no fumbling, pushed it back off her face and kissed her on the forehead. It was very romantic! So much better than the full-lip lock often favored in my own country. :) They smiled at each other but didn’t touch, even to hold hands. Then the men came up to the groom, gave the traditional cheek-kiss greeting or nose-touch greeting to the groom and then to the bride. Then more family members mounted the ramp and came along to offer greetings in the same manner. At one point, the groom motioned for his young, unmarried sisters to come up for a picture. M was sitting by me at that time, explaining things as best she could through the loud music and she said she had eight sisters, including a set of identical twins, and three brothers. Then there were more pictures taken, many of them, including one where M’s baby, the groom’s niece, was handed to the groom and pictures of that were taken. The groom looked very happy and proud but I thought that the bride looked a bit embarrassed by this, maybe thinking of what was to come that night (she is undoubtedly a virgin) and what it takes to make babies! But I might be just reading that into the event.

When the couple had a chance to sit down, their chairs separated by about three feet, the groom leaned toward the bride frequently, talking to her in a relaxed manner but I thought I could see a lot of love in his eyes and he gazed at her. I couldn’t see the expression on her face since it was turned away from me when she looked at him. As various people came along the runway to greet them, the couple stood up to meet them.

One of the coolest sights was that of the older, abaya- and shayla-clad, burga-wearing women walking along the ramp one at a time to give their greetings. The groom usually placed three or four kisses on the foreheads of these very, very short ladies. It was immensely touching to see. Apparently the well-wishers came in groups according to family since the way the groom and the bride greeted them differed. I figured if they touched noses and foreheads, they were from different families and if they did any version of the cheek-kiss they were blood relatives.

Then there were more pictures taken, including that of the happy couple sharing a drink of what looked like guava or mango juice which came in a long goblet with two straws sticking out the top. They took one quick sip at the same time, pausing long enough for a couple of photos, and then put it aside. When the cake arrived, it was served to them as bites on a fork by young boys or girls. Very cute! Then the dancers came onto the ramp to entertain the couple. About this time I asked M, who was still sitting near me, how long it would continue. It was about 11:15 by then; she said until at least midnight, probably later. I looked around at my table (I was sitting with my back to it to see the stage) and saw that it had been cleared of everything except my two foil-wrapped chocolates and that the other guests from our table had departed, as had the largest portion of the other guests. I conferred quickly with Susette, who indicated she was ready to leave, and then turned to M and told her we needed to leave. She thanked us graciously and with feeling, we all did the cheek-kiss thing and Susette and I stood up to leave. Weaving our way through the tables and remaining guests, we finally exited the room and went up the multi-level stairway to street level. I could barely hear anything, my ear drums being numb from several hours of constant bombardment. The music was absolutely great; I just wish I had been able to enjoy it more at a very much lower volume.

I called the driver who had driven us there and who had said to call him any time and he would come get us. When he arrived, we got into the car and headed back, talking about all we had seen ad heard, asking questions and I telling her anything I had been told by M and previously by others about Emirati marriage and wedding customs. For instance, when I had asked M what she had done yesterday (she was off work and I knew it had to do with the wedding), she told me it had been a henna day, when the bride had her arms and hands decorated for the wedding and so did other women family members and friends, while dancers danced and singers sang. Another thing about their marriages is that they are usually arranged either by the boy’s parents themselves or boy and his parents together agreeing on a girl, then his parents and hers agreeing, and then his sisters and mother going to visit the girl to tell her about him and then waiting for her to say yes or no. I guess but don’t know that if the boy’s parents want him to marry a particular girl and he doesn’t want to, he can say no, too.

The taxi driver took Susette to her home first, since she isn’t used to taking taxis here and doesn’t yet know enough about locations to give directions. She thanked me profusely for giving her the opportunity to attend and asked me if I could find out what kind of eye liner the Emiratis use, if any dance lessons are offered, and how she can find out more about their makeup application. She also said she would write a thank you note to M for the wonderful experience.

Then came the long taxi ride back to my place and I ended up getting home just after midnight and fudged with the alarm, moving the time up to 6:15 even though I knew I’d be cutting it fine trying to do all my morning things in one hour before catching a taxi to get to work on time. It had been a great night! Now I’m hoping that some of the other unmarried Emirati girls I work with will get married while I’m here so I’ll have the opportunity to attend other weddings!

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Notes made after the fact. In the days that followed the wedding party, I asked some of the women I worked with, including M herself, some questions about what had happened and other wedding customs. Here are some things I gleaned. The cane held by the groom is traditional from Bedouin times. Similar canes are used by males of any age when performing dance numbers for audiences. M called it a “stick.” Family members give lavish gifts to bridal couples. For example, M gave them furniture for the rooms they will use in her (and the groom’s) parents house, where the couple will live for now. Other extended family members paid for the food for the reception, for the serving girls, for the musicians, for the professional dancers, etc. About people greeting the newlyweds with either cheek kisses or nose-forehead touches, it had nothing to do with the relationship to the bride or groom. The kisses are modern gestures, the nose-forehead touches are traditional “kisses.” The short, older women the groom kissed on the forehead were his mother and grandmothers. The women greeters at the door were, indeed, one line of the bride’s family and one line of the groom’s family. Newlyweds do not have to live with the groom’s parents; some couples move directly into their own homes. (This differs from Uzbek traditions where the couple moves immediately into the groom’s parents’ home and the bride becomes the family servant either until the next younger brother marries and he and his bride take over that role or, if the groom is the youngest son, until the parents die.) The couple went on a honeymoon to Malaysia, which seems to be a popular destination for newlyweds. M herself spent her honeymoon there as did B, who works at the library and who gave me the beautiful wedding invitation in the summer.