Last weekend, a teacher friend and I were invited to a private wedding ceremony of our two little students, aged 6 and 4. Positively the cutest children that you will ever see, they have been star-students of ours for nearly 2 years. Since becoming great friends with the parents and family members of these two little friends, I usually get together with them and their families once a month and have been granted such love and kindness from their young mother and father that I feel as if I am part of the family already.
The wedding ceremony was the children’s mother’s younger brother, age 28, marrying a gorgeous Taiwanese woman who is 24. Anticipating the big day, we were told that the ceremony would be at the ungodly weekend hour of 8:30am. A stark contrast to the sunset and afternoon ceremonies in the United States, Taiwanese weddings are a vetted tradition of Daoism, Buddhist practices and the flare for the budget busting receptions.
The wedding began in the groom’s family home, where 20 or so close relatives and friends would congregate beforehand and exchange pleasantries. After having communal tea with the men of the family, around a small table on the porch where we drank oolong tea, the tea from the mountains in Alishan, we got in the cars to make the pilgrimage to the bride’s house. Upon departure, the grandfather sets off firecrackers in the driveway to ward off ghosts. (Upon living in Taiwan, one will notice that ghosts are an ever present danger and all ghosts are not mutually exclusive; they are all evil.
When we arrived at the bride’s house, the mothers got together and ran the event like a pleasant drill sergeant, instructing us to eat this, drink this and pretty much taking hospitality to the point where it can get to be too much. Photographs were taken and the bride and groom gathered in separate cars to return to the groom’s family home. However, upon departure, the bride must have a bamboo umbrella to keep the sun off her head. (Taiwanese women are petrified of the sun, for a tan shows commonality with farmers). If she is pregnant, then the umbrella must be black to protect the unborn child.
In the car, a slab of bacon was placed. Not cooked, but a fatty piece of prime-cut pork. Since the practice of traveling to different homes was introduced on mainland China hundreds of years ago, cars were not always a luxury, and the bride and groom would ride on animals. However, keeping the trend of ghosts, the spirits of these departed animals have the ability to follow the wedding train. Thus our slab of Wilbur in a bag. Also, a large bamboo broom was exposed outside on the rear end of the car, to ensure that no “animal” droppings would be left behind the tailpipe of the BMW X5 SUV.
When we arrived back at the groom’s house, bride in tow this time, both newlyweds ascended the staircases to the bedroom. However, all mirrors had to be covered in advance, because it is bad luck to see one’s reflection on their wedding day. The bride and groom are also not allowed to touch the bed, however, the children are required to jump, yes, jump on the bed. This ensures that, come wedding night (no pun intended), the bride will become pregnant.
After all the guests have departed, the main reception takes place, which is an overly extravagant celebration involving each and every person the bride and groom have ever come into contact with. This is a more western party, where different toasts and pleasantries are exchanged. Soon, the party dwindles and the quests depart.
