I was doing my morning walk, listening to the BBC this morning and, as usual, it was a programme about football. I'm not into sports as I'm basically non-competitive and I really don't like the idea of one side or person always having to lose. On the other hand, listening to the footballers talking about their sport is quite interesting. This time they talked about insults that had been hurled at them. There was a game in the Emirates and I think it was the Qatar team that were insulted when hundreds of fans started to throw their shoes at the players. Apparently, this is the biggest insult you can give to an Arab because the shoes have walked in the dirt. I think I'd have waited for the other matching shoe to arrive. One man mentioned having plastic bags filled with urine thrown at him and a Nigerian told about a pig's head coming in this direction.
The other sad news was about Afghanistan where the Americans are close to making a deal with Taliban to get them back into governing the country. It was a programme about Afghan women and how the country has progressed with women in every walk of life. The reporter spoke to the chief spokesman for Taliban and he just kept saying everything would be done according to Sharia law and that women couldn't go out on their own so they couldn't cause mischief. I think that's a worse insult than having a shoe thrown at you.
Today was Meakara's and Sokunthea's big day - the first day of their wedding. There are so many ceremonies I haven't figured out yet when they are actually married and can do what married people do. I met Vuth and Cina with their four children at the car park. They were all dressed in matching bronze coloured traditional clothing. Little 4 year old Cheata has grown so much Cina couldn't button up the back of her dress. She has long hair and that covered the gap. The family own a bit of land near the wedding home so parking was no problem. Also, the wedding was held completely inside the house which is unusual as people normally don't have the space - that's why a tent is erected on the street and that particular block cut off from motorised vehicles.
The family have a courtyard at the front of the home that's big enough to hold six cars. The walls, and the walls of the living room were draped in gold and white fabric and an artificial roof had been created from the cloth over the courtyard. Everything is rented and they had even rented a couple of chandeliers to hang in the courtyard as this is where we'd be fed. I was glad to see we were a bit late so a ceremony had started and I was happy to be able to stand outside the living room as I could see everything. It didn't last long. As soon as the older folk saw me I was dragged into the house and I had to sit on the floor close to the wedding family. I was the only foreigner there and so there was a lot of curiosity surrounding my presence. One old lady turned around and got hold of my nose, laughed and made comments to her friends. I joined in the fun as this happens all the time - the locals are fascinated by my Western nose. I can't be bothered telling them I'm just as fascinated by their flat ones.
Many years ago, when I first came to Cambodia, a young man said, "Peter, you are like a shark." I said, "What are you on about. I don't go around killing people." He said, "I don't mean you act like a shark; I mean you look like one." I asked for clarification as I was stuck on that one. "You look like a shark because your nose is in front of your mouth." That comment has stuck with me since then and I often find myself looking at the side view of Western people and observing the fact that their noses really are in front of their mouths. A bit later, I went to meet a Western friend who worked for the European Union. She wasn't in the office so I asked her Khmer colleague where she was. She happened to be at a computer course. I said, "So you are clever enough not to need the course." "No, she's gone with the pointed noses and I have to go with the flat ones."
Anyway, back to the wedding. Every single thing done in a Cambodian wedding is symbolic but I haven't a clue what most of it means and I can't be bothered asking as people are too busy enjoying themselves. It's totally unlike a Western wedding where people walk into a church, sit down in assigned places and keep their mouths closed until it's over. Here, some people are interested in the ceremony while others are keen to be there but their main focus is catching up with friends, local news etc. I always have to focus on the wedding as there's nobody for me to chat with. A Master of Ceremonies led everything, wearing a transparent, long coat made of gold thread. He wore glasses with the magnification label stuck to one of the lenses. I've noticed that people in Asia don't bother about taking this label off; maybe it helps them to remember the magnification they are using. There was a team of about five photographers with different kinds of cameras and also men and women who take care of the dressing of the bridal party and doing their hair and make up. At times it looks like an assembly line. Every single movement is choreographed with the photographers either telling you the pose to take up or coming over and moving the couples' hands, bodies, heads etc. It looks a totally painful exercise but people laugh all the time.
When the ceremonies were over I managed to get off the ground and straighten my legs before heading to the courtyard for dinner. It was the usual fare with lots of different dishes - I try all of them and many times I have no clue what I'm eating. When we'd finished eating we headed back to the parking area. It was around 6.30pm and I'd been out of the house for 3 hours so I was looking forward to going home but it wasn't meant to be.
I ended up in an empty room filled with boxes of all kinds of food and drink and gold coloured cake stands. Now the work started to prepare for the first big ceremony tomorrow. Our job was to put items onto the cake stands but that is easier said than done. First of all a red doily is placed on the cake stand and then the ladies select items to put on it. They make a matching pair of cake stands and so, for example, if one cake stand has four apples on it then another one will be made with four apples put in exactly the same position. Everything has to look absolutely perfect and matching - if there are any blemishes then the items are turned around so they don't show. There was every kind of fruit imaginable, cans of fruit, beer, tins of biscuits, boxes of chocolates and more biscuits. We worked for hours and my job was taking the stands from the ladies and putting them in rows with the matching pairs together. I then had to put a smaller red doily on top of the items. This wasn't the end of it - another group of young people arrived with large rolls of plastic wrap and their job was to put the plastic on every single cake stand to make sure that nothing moved about. I gave up; I decided I'd done my bit so I propped myself up against a wall and watched what was going on. It's not really classed as work by the people as they chat away and having a great time. As usual my sitting developed into a slump and eventually someone brought me a pillow so I could lay flat on the floor.
At times the bridal couple came in to see what was going on. They were in their street clothes and looked totally different. Even the men wear make up for their weddings but nowhere near as much as the ladies who have elaborate hair-dos, nails painted in an exotic fashion with little ornaments stuck on them; they take about 3 hours to get dressed for some of the ceremonies whereas the man just has to wear, most of the time, a pair of trousers and a jacket which matches the lady's outfit. Sometimes though he also has to wear the traditional sarong which takes ages to put on.
I was happy to get home around 11pm but not happy when I was told we'd have to be outside in the car park by 5.30 tomorrow morning.
