Monday in Bladon

As I was unpacking the alarm clock that had served us so well in London, I must have hit a button that caused it to jump ahead an hour. We told Diane that we'd be up and around (and ready for a full English breakfast!) by 10. We woke up and stayed in bed howling with laughter. Now, a week later, I can not for the life of me remember what was so funny, but I do remember that we were laughing so hard we were crying and we woke Diane! Now, that took some doing because her house is BIG and our room was not that close to hers!

Anyway.....after we laughed our heads off, we noticed the time - about 10 minutes to 10 - so we got dressed and headed to the kitchen where we expected to find Diane slaving over a hot stove. But, what we found was that it was not even 9:00 yet! I put on the kettle (since I now remembered the right way to do it) and pretty soon Diane came down to start breakfast.

Oh, how we love English breakfast! Fried eggs (or scrambled if you are Kimber), bacon, sausage, fried tomatoes, beans, and fried bread. I LOVE fried bread. There, I said it and I am not ashamed. I could eat fried bread every day at every meal. But, only if Diane is there to cook it for me.

After breakfast, we went to Bladon. I had a bouquet of sunflowers to put under Dad's bush. I've done this every trip since 2002, so I figure the groundskeeper of the cemetary is wondering why, every 2 years or so, there are sunflowers under that silly bush. The top photo is a perfect photo of "our" bench and "Dad's" bush.

It was a beautiful day and Sir Winston's grave was decorated by the Dutch ambassador in honor of the Dutch Resistance. There is a school right next to the cemetary and the children were outside and we could hear their laughter which made me smile.

So, I honored my dad and silently thanked him for instilling in me a curious nature and an appreciation of diversity - both traits that served me well during the previous week. Of course, I shed a tear or two and a hug or two with Diane and Kimber.

We spent some time in the church because although the sun was shining, the temperature was a bit cool. We left as a tour bus arrived. Those silly American tourists, pushing and shoving for a picture with the church in the background, walking all across the graves, talking in loud voices. It was time for us to move on.

Diane dropped us at the Blenheim Palace (bottom photo) gate and as we walked towards the palace, Kimber stopped frequently to admire the view and take pictures of the pristine grounds. We could have walked barefoot and probably would have if it weren't so stinkin' cold.

We toured the palace which was fun; I never get tired of wandering around Blenheim. There were some new exhibits which were interesting. After the tour, I was waiting outside for Kimber who was in the bookstore. A man walked by me who took my breath away, he looked just like my dad. So much so, that I found myself staring at him. I saw Kimber through the bookstore window and she was frantically motioning for me to come in. I went in and she said to me "Do you see that man? He looks just like your dad!"

When I went back outside, the man had been joined by his wife. I approached them and asked if they spoke English. In very British accents they said "Yes". So I told the gentleman that he looked like my dad. He said he was glad to have a twin in the United States. I told him that my dad had passed away several years ago - and I had to wipe tears off my cheeks. He very kindly touched my arm and said "I hope that seeing me has brightened your day." Both he and his wife were very kind and didn't seem bothered at all by the crazy American lady.

After spending the afternoon at Blenheim, Diane came to pick us up. We went out for fish and chips and mushy peas then back to Diane's. We had scones with clotted cream for dessert and I discovered that I could eat my weight in scones with raspberry jelly and clotted cream. In England they have something called double whipping cream or something like that which puts our "heavy whipping cream" to shame. To. Shame.

It stays light so late that time gets away from you. Before you know it, it's 10:30 or 11 o'clock but the light outside makes you think it's much earlier.

Tuesday is Oxford! One of my favorite places in the world.

oh, oh, oh, oh....Go Back and Look

Go back and look at some of the previous entries. Kimber has added photos. They are wonderful and will help you picture some of what we saw.

However, the picture of me? In the purple kit? Yep, I look like an Oompaloompa. Except they were blue.

But, without pictures and a mirror, I felt like Cinderella!

Something I Forgot but Needs to be Said.

At the end of the sanji on Friday, the last one at Priya's house, I wanted to say a few words (my goodness, don't I sound like my dad?). I asked Crazy Uncle Bo Bo to translate for me because I wanted to make sure that everyone understood what I was saying.

How hard could it be to express my gratitude for being allowed to share in this wonderful event; for being accepted as a member of the family; for trying to return the feeling of love that Kimber and I had felt all week? Well, turns out it was pretty hard.

I started crying (I know, I know, no surprise there) when I asked Uncle Bo Bo for help. He walked with me into the living room which was packed with women and the men came in from the garden. Bo Bo announced that I wanted to say something, and then I really started to cry and I could barely speak. So, Uncle Bo Bo said "What she is trying to say is thank you for everything."

There was so much on my mind and in my heart that night: the lessons we had learned, the kindness and patience that had been shown to us, the unconditional love and acceptance that everyone expressed to us, the communication that took place which transcended any barrier of language or age.

Uncle Bo Bo helped Kimber and I say thank you: Coop, Coop Ahbar. (Thank you very, very much.)

Laughter, tears, singing, food. It was a great night all around.

Tootle 'round the Cotswolds

After we left the wonderment that was Priya and Chet's wedding, we headed to Diane's house in Woodstock. Once we arrived and carried in all of our luggage (thank you, Kimba, for carrying mine up the stairs!), Diane put the kettle on and we had a cup of tea. We also were able to enjoy the take away plates which Kimber scored for us at the wedding. She balanced them on her lap during the trip and didn't spill a drop.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten exactly how to make a cuppa and Diane had to give me a refresher course. I'll enlighten all of you: heat the kettle to boiling, pour water into the cup/mug to heat it up, heat the kettle to boiling again, dump out the water in the cup/mug, and put your tea bag in. Then, pour boiling water over the tea bag and let steep for just a bit - not too long, remove the tea bag and add milk and sugar. Enjoy!

The Brits have it right - a cup of tea does solve a myraid of troubles.

Once we had our tea and felt a bit settled down, Diane took us for one of her famous tootles in the Cotswolds. You've never tootled the Cotswolds until you've tootled them with Diane.

But, here's the problem....I fell asleep in the back seat so although I was tootling along with Kimber and Diane, I don't have anything to say about it! Kimber does and certainly she will wax eloquent about the experience. Hopefully, she'll be able to post some pictures.

I do know that the colors were brilliant; everything was so green and the roses were spectacular. It stays light for a long time so we were out until nearly 10:00 p.m.

The front seat girls woke me up while on the way back to Diane's. It was about this time that my camera snuck away from me and went missing some where in the rental car.

Upon arrival at Diane's, she put on the kettle and popped a couple of pizzas in the oven. After our pizza fix, Kimber and I were ready for bed.

The Cotswolds. It's good to be home.

Chet and Priya

Love Is Immortal...

At long last, we had reached the wedding day -- an experience unlike anything we've ever known. By comparison, Hindu weddings make Western weddings look like brief, bland, boring facsimiles of a real wedding -- like a quick trip through a drive-through Vegas wedding chapel, without the Elvis impersonator!

How to describe the experience? We'd been warned that the entire day is best summed up as "organized chaos." To that I would only add, "visually rich, delightful organized chaos."

Forget your idea of a solemn affair where the congregation looks on, passive and silent.

Instead, imagine a mash-up of Bollywood musical, Hollywood red carpet, Chinese opera, three-ring circus, family reunion, and WWF wrestling -- you're now getting a pretty good idea of the overall ambience. It is a day infused with noise, happy chattering voices, thudding drums, whoops of joy, bowls of fire and blaring smoke alarms -- just amazing sensory overload. Oh yes, and a couple is joining their lives somewhere in the thick of all the that, too!

The day began early -- we were up and ready to drive to the wedding venue with our Indian wedding clothes in hand by 7:30 a.m. Kavita's good friend Anj was kind enough to give us a lift in her Smart Car (as tiny as a clown car, but amazingly roomy inside). We zipped over to the venue and joined a crush of cousins and aunties all getting dressed in the Ladies room. A note about wedding finery: This is a luscious parade of fabric and intricate hairdos and bling. We were so fortunate to be able to borrow lovely, lovely clothes from Priya's family, with the aid of our personal stylist, Kavita! Sarah rocked the house in a gorgeous cornflower blue sari with a fuschia-colored trim. I felt like queen for the day in an amazing turquoise satin suit with ornate champagne-colored trim -- a fitted jacket that fastened in the front with hooks and eyes and a long, sweeping skirt that was gored for maximum skirt swirl. Getting ready in a group took us back to college days of dressing up for formal dances with dormitory friends -- it adds to the shared excitement.

Once dressed, Sarah's friend Diane Ellis showed up, as if on cue. Sarah and Diane were artfully arranged in their saris (safety pins are an Indian girl's best friend) and we all found our seats in the main room -- a large conference center-sized space with a red carpet running down the middle aisle. A massive golden arch anchored one end; the aisle was studded with pillars topped with golden Ganeshes. Before us, the wedding altar was set up on the raised stage -- gilded pillars held the Mandap, a wedding canopy where the couple would sit, facing each other. To either side was seating for immediate family.

The ceremony actually began a week earlier, with ceremonies and singing in the bride's and groom's homes, offering prayers to Shri Ganesh to remove any obstacles and bless the union. On this day, the actual Hindu Vedic ceremony was conducted in ancient Sanskrit by a Mahraj, a Hindu priest. Things got rolling when word filtered through the crowd that the groom was arriving. Priya's mother, sisters and cousins assembled before the stage, with Kavita balancing a beaded ornament atop her head (the coconut?) Suddenly, the sound of drums rumbled through the hall, a primitive, inviting beat. Everyone pushed outside to find the groom, Chet, emerging from a car, where he was greeted like a Bollywood celebrity. Flashbulbs popped like field artillery as he was met by Priya's sisters, who led him back into the hall. There, everyone paused before the great golden arch -- just a crush of family and guests all craning to see. The drums were beating frenetically as Priya's sisters and cousins began dancing and clapping and whooping, in a loud, dramatic welcome. Soon, the women in Chet's family began to answer their call, a raucous throwdown of happy noise. Finally, Kanchan (MOB) formally greeted the groom, bestowing her blessings. Only then did they let him pass through the archway and slowly work his way down the aisle, along with the crowd, which was talking away as if at some kind of gigantic social hour.

No somber organ music. No quiet processional. This was a decidedly joyful noise.

Then, just as Chet and his family began to ascend the stage, it seemed that a fight was breaking out. Truly! It was a real rugby scrum, unfolding before our eyes, as the Visavadia sisters -- with their elegant coifs and gorgeous dress -- began scrambling in earnest to steal Chet's shoes! If successful, we were told, then Priya would rule their household. If not, then Chet would be the dominant person in their relationship. So there was a bit on the line!

It was a crazy, screaming scene -- a wriggling ball of humanity, true wedding dogpile, down-and-dirty schoolyard scuffle, with legs and elbows flying and people tumbling off the stage steps. For a moment, I thought that fists might fly! But it was all in laughter and good fun.

(Note: Don't get in the way of those Visavadia girls, I'm just sayin'!)

Once on stage, Chet sat beneath the canopy, with his family behind him. All the while, the priest was on stage, engrossed in preparatory rituals with the bride's parents. You really couldn't see or hear what he was doing, as the crowd noise and wedding photographers made it next-to-impossible. The conclusion of these preparatory tasks signified that they were ready to give their daughter away and that Chet was ready to take her as his wife.

Then, Chet's family stood, unfolding an ornate, white blanket and holding it up in front of Chet, who hadn't seen Priya all week. It seems that he was not meant to see the bride until she was seated across from him -- talk about building the suspense!

As if on cue, Priya's cousins and aunties came out to line the central aisle, tossing flower petals as Priya glided past, escorted by her oldest maternal uncle. Her sari was just jaw-dropping -- a deep green fabric with intricate and effusive beadwork. Her hands bore elaborate mendhi designs, her makeup was flawless. She was utterly regal -- inhabiting a serene place somewhere far beyond beautiful.

She, too, ascended the stage, taking her place in a chair directly across from Chet. Only then, did the priest cue his family to drop the satin blanket that had been blocking his view. Talk about theatrical build-up! (Diane joked that she was a little disappointed that they hadn't also produced a rabbit!)

The couple exchanged huge garlands of red and white flowers fashioned into massive necklaces, then Priya's parents symbolically place her hands into Chet's, effectively giving her away. Next, Chet's scarf/shawl was tied to Priya's sari -- the knot symbolizing wedlock.

But the show was just beginning! Next, it was time for a little fire!

The Hindu priest kneeled to light a (okay, it wasn't small!) fire, symbolic of Lord Vishnu, offering prayers seeking illumination of mind, knowledge and happiness. The rest of the ceremony would be conducted around this fire, which was considered a divine witness.

Chet and Priya then walked four times around the fire, stopping on each circuit to touch a stone in their path with their right foot, taking from the stone its strength and solidity into their marriage. Chet led the first three rounds (symbolizing attainment of enlightenment, prosperity and love), while Priya led the final round (representing attainment of liberation).

At some point, a blaring smoke detector went off, adding to the overall din. But it was quickly attended to by one of Priya's uncles, who all worked together like a well-oiled piece of machinery to see this day go off without a hitch...

Next, the couple took seven symbolic steps together, symbolizing their journey through life together. They also vowed to each other: nourishment, strength, prosperity, knowledge, family, harmony and friendship. Then, Chet gingerly anointed the center of Priya's forehead with red vermillion powder (sindoor) and placed a necklace traditionally worn by married women as a gesture of his everlasting esteem and respect.

Now, the entire time these loving rituals are being carried out, is the audience quietly looking on? No way! They're chatting up a storm, catching up with old friends, murmuring funny stories and checking out the sari two rows over, jumping up and down and running to the stage to catch candid photos, setting up tables before the stage with boxes to accept cash wedding gifts (complete with volunteers who recorded the offerings right there and then in a large ledger), and generally having a terrific time. In essence, the Wedding Party had started long before the wedding was over.
At one point, Priya's adorable grandfather wandered up, took our hands, eyes shining, and firmly announced: "Love is Immortal!" No kidding. You've got that one right, grandpa!
This was so far from a staid Western wedding. In fact, in exasperation, the priest finally took the microphone and firmly asked the audience to put a lid on it. Or words to that effect. Where we sat, a young boy happily amused himself by tossing a paper airplane around. Organized chaos at its finest!

On stage, Chet and Priya were breaking their wedding fast by feeding each other an Indian sweet, symbolic of their first meal together as a married couple. In the audience, I would be surprised if a majority of the guests could see it happen. The entire time, the ceremony was being recorded by a crowd of no less than three professional photographers, as well as a videographer. Today was truly all about the Kodak moment!

As women from the bride's and groom's families whispered religious blessings into Priya's ear to guide her into married life, you couldn't help but wonder if she could even hear them. But there were clearly no hard feelings. This is what everyone had come to expect at a wedding. No problem.

The Mahraj ended the ceremony by blessing the couple. Already, people were queueing up for the buffet luncheon!

We only knew the ceremony had concluded when someone announced that family photos would begin. Before we had changed clothes, we were invited up on stage for a photograph with the happy couple -- a real privilege! 

After quick goodbyes, we changed clothes and loaded our (considerable) luggage into a Ford Fiesta that Diane had rented to haul us to The Cotswolds. On our way out the door, the wonderful uncles insisted that we grab some take-away (carryout) plates of the catered wedding luncheon for our trip -- the food was, naturally, magnificent.

It was hard to leave these friendly faces that we had grown to adore in such a short time. So many emotions.
We drove away saturated with lovely sounds and images, heads swimming with the colors of the day, feeling privileged, indeed, to have been granted the access and education we had enjoyed, and destined for a setting that couldn't be more different than the one we had just witnessed...

 

Wedding, Part 2

After we were dressed, we went into this giant hall that had a stage at one end. It might have been the size of a basketball court, but I'm not sure. Chairs were in rows with an aisle down the center. On the stage was a mandap (I think that's what it was called) which is a covering under which the families sat. On either side were 20 or so family members who sat in rows of chairs. The altar was in the front center where the priest knelt for much of the ceremony.

The center aisle ended about 10 feet from the stage and in that area were the wedding photographers and anyone else who wanted to take photos. The photographers stood on step ladders so they could get the perfect picture.

The wedding was to start at 10:00 a.m. and around that time there was some excitement in the back of the hall. We were told to head back there because the groom was arriving. We went outside and met his car. When I say "we", I mean about 150 people. The car was surrounded and people were clapping and yelling.

We went back in and about 10 minutes or so later these drums started pounding. The groom was trying to come into the hall but Priya's sisters and other young women (so, NOT Kimber and I) were preventing him from entering. There was much yelling, laughter and dancing at the back door. We were told that Priya's mother would greet the groom at the door, but I didn't see if that happened.

The groom, who looked like Aladdin when he was a prince (if you don't know what I mean, go rent the animated version from 20 years ago...), started down the aisle and the girls continued to make it hard for him to move. I believe some members of his family were with him. Finally, he made it to the stage, and the craziness hit a peak - one of several. Here's why: the tradition is that the bride's friends are to try to steal the groom's shoes. This has something to do with who will be the dominate person in the marriage. (Don't you think it would just be easier to explain that a happy wife equals a happy life be done with it?) When Chet (the groom) took off his shoes to walk to the altar, there was a virtual rugby scrum of women trying to snatch the shoes away from Chet's poor best man who was trying to protect them.

There were beautifully dressed girls diving, that's right DIVING, into the fray trying to get those silly shoes. It went on for about a minute then the best man was able to slither out with shoes in hand. The girls were not to be deterred. They just waited for their next opportunity.

When Chet sat down, his parents and sister held a decorated shawl up in front of him so he and Priya could not see each other until they were sitting side by side. Talk about anticipation!

In a bit, Priya came down the aisle escorted by her 7 uncles. Each uncle walked her a short ways towards the stage and the oldest uncle walked her up the steps and onto the altar. The shawl was lowered and Priya and Chet saw each other for the first time in a week.

The ceremony started, done mostly in sanskrit which no one other than the priest understands. What was interesting to the westerners there is that there is a complete disconnect between what was happening on the stage and what was going on in the rest of the hall. People were wandering around chatting, lining up for the meal, walking to the front and taking photos. It was indeed "organized chaos".

At every important point in the service, the parties would pose for the photographers.

Things that made us laugh: when the fire was lit on stage as part of the ceremony, the smoke alarms went off; another rugby scrum at one side of the stage starring Neya (Priya's sister) who was going to get those shoes if it killed her.

We got loads of pictures which will be posted soon.

After the wedding, there were many, many photos taken of various guests with the couple and their families up on stage under the mandap. Kimber, Diane and I were lucky enough to be summoned for a picture, so I got to meet Chet and his mother. That was the only time we had a chance to talk to Priya and Chet.

We hung around talking to all our new friends/family then decided to head on to Oxford. Kimber and I changed and said brief goodbyes then went in search of our luggage. On Friday, Dipak said that he wanted our bags ready to be loaded into a rented van to be delivered to the wedding venue Saturday afternoon. With all the people and things needing to be transported to the venue, having our bags out of the way would be very helpful.

No one wanted to tell us where our bags were so we could stay longer - which was a nice feeling. We did, however, find them got them loaded in Diane's car and went to the kitchen to plead for take away food. Kimber worked her magic because she came to the car with 3 plates of wonderful Indian food. She balanced them on her lap until we arrived at Diane's house in Woodstock then we tucked in.

After a cup of tea and dragging our suitcases upstairs, we went for a tootle round the Cotswolds. I took my turn in the back seat of the car since I have tootled in the Cotswolds before and Kimber has not.

The activities of the last 2 days caught up with me and I fell asleep in the backseat. This is important because I had my camera in my hand.

Kimber will write about everything she saw and photographed. I guess she made her "happy noise" during most of tootle. Her happy noise is a sort of hummmmmm along with her eyes rolling or closing. It's quite a thing to see.

When we got back to Diane's, we all jumped out of the car and went inside to put the kettle on.

The next morning, Diane had to return the car (it was a rental). While she was gone, I was looking for my camera and couldn't find it. Yep, I left it in the rental car. When we finally determined that that's where it was and called the rental place, we were told that the car had been rented out. Diane was told that they would look for it, but we didn't hear anything from the company. So, my camera with its 300+ photos is lost. If whoever has it somehow finds this blog, I have the battery charger and cables to download the photos to a computer with me, so email me and I'll send them to you. No sense having a camera you can't recharge!

Fortunately, Kimber took a lot of pictures and will send them to me.

It stayed so light for so long in Oxford. Even at 10 p.m. it was still light outside. It didn't seem late when it really was.

Kimber and I both went to sleep listening to the wonderful sounds (or lack thereof) that is Campsfield Farm.