One day. Two weddings. Three brides.

I was invited to two weddings in June, which were scheduled on the same day: One in the morning (one bride), one in the afternoon (two brides – sisters, in fact.  Not à la Big Love, sillies – each got one spouse all for herself).  In Indonesia, there are wedding seasons as well as particularly auspicious days to get hitched and such.  So, significant life events tend to occur one on top of another, including circumcision parties.  (Stay tuned – next post.)

A.M.: Wedding, the first.

This one actually started the night before, with a civil ceremony at the bride’s home, i.e., her parents’ house.  (Around here, folks usually live with parental units until marriage, and sometimes even after acquiring the ol' ball and chain, depending on the couple’s finances.)  The civil ceremony (read, civil Muslim ceremony) was officiated by a government official.  Prayers were prayed, papers were signed, and the father of the bride gave a moving speech (in high level Javanese [kromo inggil] and Arabic) that left no dry eye in and outside the house.

Let's get this party started

Lights, camera, signatures

Pak brings the house down

Gift baskets and standing room only audience

The next morning, everyone got make-up’d nice and cakey and drove in a car caravan to the venue.  Awesome traditional outfits, accessories, and hair abounded, as did an insane amount of food, jazzy music, and throngs upon throngs of guests.  I’d say nearly three thousand people came through, a conservative estimate.

Here comes the bride

How bad-ass are those swords!?  Tell me!

This was the singer-prayer person.  He is blind.

The betrothed

The in-laws (I was a guest of the bride's family)

Paying respects

We are fa-mi-ly

My counterpart and his middle daughter

My counterpart's lovely spouse and two of their three daughters.

This is the Bistek.  Um, it was not a steak as such.  But I think made of beef nonetheless.

Ponorogo is famous in Indonesia for and very proud of its Sate Ayam (chicken satay).

P.M.: Wedding, the second.

As soon as the last guest left from the a.m. wedding, I cycled home, shed my gebaya and the big Javanese fake bun thing hair piece, quickly wrapped a scarf on my head, and went to my neighbor’s house for wedding number two.  As you’ll see below, this one was very, very different from the a.m. wedding. 

This one also started the day before, with rewang (RAY-wahng).  When someone in your ‘hood gets married, all lady family members and immediate neighbors come over to help prepare for the big day.  So the day before the wedding, my host mother and I went next door to help chop some stuff for food for the wedding and food to distribute to friends and family, because people here are generous and communal like that.  (I rewanged for the a.m. wedding, too, but didn’t bring my camera, whoops.)  This is a somewhat functional but predominantly social activity, as some neighbors will just drop in for half an hour to put in face-time, de-seed a handful of chilis, and call it a day.  And, brides-to-be usually hire a fleet of cooks anyway, so all the food does eventually get made.  I stayed for a goodly while, until they busted out the pineapples, whereupon me and my allergic self could only silently look on and salivate at the pounds of  lovely, juicy fruit.

But back to the big day.  I hope the photos will do the talking, but I should say that this wedding was very traditional and looked more like a “normal” wedding in my town, meaning, very Javanese and very Muslim.  There was no milling about, the ceremony was long, and food was served to the guests halfway through the ceremony.  So the second half was rather pleasant actually, like watching a show while munching on bakso (meatball soup, like Vietnamese Pho) and soto ayam (chicken stew, but thinner, like a yellow curry soup).  In any event, the whole thing unfolded itself in this way:

Guests being seated.

Here come the brides.

Here comes Groom No. 1.

Here is Bride No. 1.  Respectfully, the elder sister got to go first.

They met by this thing.

He crushes the egg (on his side), and she pours/washes his feet with the liquid (on her side).

Then Father of the Bride pours libations.

And then Father of the Bride wraps them up and takes them to the stage in a cozy snuggle train.

Flower girls

Bride, the younger.

And then comes Groom No. 2.