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As one faced the altar from the audience the bride stood behind the altar and to the right, while the groom was to the left. The priest was to the right as well. He said quite a bit, most of it in a tongue foreign to me, though he did speak a few words in English. These words sounded like wedding vows, suggesting that one or both of the married couple may not have been a native speaker of whatever language was being used for the ceremony. At times the priest's voice would rise in pitch and his speech would transform into chant.
The bride appeared to be of Indian descent, so I assumed that the English was for the groom's benefit. He appeared to be of African descent. Thus, the older couple to the right of the altar must have been his parents while the older couple to the left of the altar must have been her parents. It is possible, of course, that both families were native to, say, Trinidad. Most of the people in attendance appeared to be of Indian or African descent--which means that, at this time in history, they could have originated anywhere in the world outside of the arctic zones-- though Caucasians of European descent were there in some measure as well.
The ceremony was in progress when I happened upon it. Perhaps the ceremony had been going on for a minute, five minutes, or an hour. I do not know. I stayed until the ceremony seemed complete--a period of perhaps twenty minutes or so. During that time the couple walked around the altar, while remaining under the canopy, on four different occasions. The bride led the way on the first two circuits while the groom led on the last two circuits. Each was wearing a shawl and their shawls were tied together.
A few others--the street was otherwise deserted--wandered along during the ceremony and, like me, observed from outside the railing. "What's going on?" asked a Chinese woman. "I think it's a wedding. See, there's the bride and groom." "Oh," she remarked, "they're not from around here." Who is? I thought. Perhaps some of the patrons of the Hamilton Park Ale house, the bar on the ground floor of the building where I live. There were pictures of high school sports teams and old pols on the wall, even a Kennedy or two.
At some point I noticed that the bride's mother, in a red sari and yellow shawl, trimmed in gold (the groom's mother wore a closely fitted lavender dress embroidered all over with a loose net of gold filigree), began passing flower petals to everyone in attendance. When the ceremony concluded, they all tossed the petals at the married couple, who then sat down in the two chairs, the bride to the right, the groom to the left--though, from the couple's point of view, the bride was to the left, the groom to the right. As this was happening, the bride's mother began distributing small cakes; they came in small boxes with a cellophane window on the top and probably a dozen to the box. People would eat the cakes and, as they came forward to congratulate the couple, would feed cakes to them as well.
It was an odd sight, this small Hindu wedding party in colorful silk, flowers, ghee, and incense, nestled to one side of a small canyon framed by tall nondescript buildings in muted shades of metal, glass, concrete, and stone. On the shore of the Hudson River. To the west of New York City.
I do not know if there was music and dancing afterward. It was time for me to head home.
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bill benzon
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Ricky | Oct 12th, 2004
A great story about culture!
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