issue 54 - AsiaLIFE Magazine

This Country Life
Marriage brings some much-needed celebration to those
living in the sticks. Walter Pearson breaks down a typical
countryside wedding.
“Marriage,” Peter Cook said
as the bishop in the hilarious
movie The Princess Bride, “Marriage
is what brings us together
today.” Indeed, marriage often
brings us together in the bush.
And I love it.
Marriage, or more specifically,
the wedding festival surrounding
marriage, sometimes
goes on for more than three
days. Fortunately for an old
bloke like me, not continuously
for three days. Marriage
festivities usually go something
like this:
The first day is the preparation
for the ‘Girl’s Day’. The
night before, the marquee is
set up outside the father of the
bride’s house just before dark.
This is done with stunning efficiency.
It includes steel forms,
canvas roof, frilly decorations
around the outside, circular
stainless steel tables each surrounded
by 10 red plastic stools,
the stage and, most importantly
the sound system, which is
capable of a sound only slightly
louder than a space shuttle
launch. Naturally, the completion
requires a celebration.
Most of the guests invited to
the Girl’s Day turn up, but not
everyone gets an invite to both
the Girl’s Day and the 'Boy’s
Day'. The Girl’s Day invitees
are usually her family and
friends and of course the bridegroom
and his close family
members. The music is cranked
up, the beer flows, a few bottles
of rice whisky come out, food
appears and it’s party time.
The Girl’s Day takes place on
the second day. This is pretty
straightforward. Guests arrive
and are met by the lucky couple
at the entrance at the set time,
11am is preferred where we
live. This means you can write
off the day by getting really
drunk really quickly and then
head back home to sit around
on the floor and drink rice
whisky, a process called in the
vernacular nhau. The first time
I went to one of these days I
mistakenly thought it was the
wedding. The bride and bridegroom
have the full outfits on
and everyone gets dressed up
and they seriously party.
There is always an MC and
a keyboard player. The MC has
the same pattern every time. It’s
just a matter of changing the
names to implicate the guilty.
The MC starts off as soon as
most of the guests are seated
with the usual, “With your
permission and with no further
ado we’ll start the program.”
He or she will then go and
explain that Mr and Mrs (the
bride’s parents) have invited
us here on this day to celebrate
the bringing together of their
daughter with the son of Mr
and Mrs (the groom’s parents)
and the joining of these two
families through this nuptial.
Then the bride’s parents are
introduced and go up onto the
stage. The groom’s parents are
then introduced along with a
representative who speaks on
behalf of the family.
Finally, ladies and gentlemen,
we give you (fanfare at
8.6 on the Richter scale) the
bride and groom. Sound the
Bridal March, and the bride and
groom enter. A table may applaud.
Everyone keeps eating
and drinking and talking and
one, two, three, vo-ing. Loud
explosions and confetti — or
the Vietnamese version of it
— fills the air. Roman candles
shower sparks over the bridal
party and place the safety of
150 people in jeopardy. Everyone
keeps eating and drinking
and talking and one, two, three,
vo-ing.
The bride’s father speaks
and, like every speech by the
father of the bride, it is predictable
and clichéd. The groom’s
family representative replies
and everyone keeps eating and
drinking and talking and one,
two, three, vo-ing. Then the
bride and groom and both sets
of mums and dads start the
trawl around the tables having
their photo taken with all the
guests. When they get to our
table we one, two, three, vo,
smile for the camera and go
back to eating.
After exactly two hours of
eating and drinking and talking
the guests move as one for the
door, bid farewell to the lucky
couple, stagger to their bikes
and head home. The bride and
groom separate. No sleeping
together tonight. They’re still
not married.
asialife HCMC 89