Weddings, Parties, Anything

Her cleavage was astounding. It had grown a good three inches. She herself was equally unrecognisable in a face as white as the hue of her bridal gown which adopted Western rather than Chinese tradition. Bride and groom stood side by side at the door offering sweets and cigarettes. Rising to the occasion, I took one of each, anticipating that both nicotine and sugar hits might come in handy in the imminent future.

I was very pleased to be invitied, but I do tend to become skittish when locked into any kind of remotely official occasion that it might not be possible to escape from at whim. I wasn't too worried though, as I knew that Chinese weddings are generally far more no-nonsense, pay, eat and run affairs, than their Western equivalents. Still, I took some long, rasping drags on that high nicotine cancer-stick just to be on the safe side. The non smoker's head rush is truly a thing of beauty.

As we were about to pass from the vast hotel foyer into the equally vast banquet hall, an officious member of the wedding party asked us briskly for our (red) envelopes. She immediately tore each one open, recorded names, and counted the money. There was the distinct implication that it was these little envelopes, and not the invitation, that gained us entry, but I found the pragmatism of that upfront approach strangely appealing, especially at a big fancy wedding which is often so couched in all sentiments fake.

Once inside, scanning the sea of peopled round tables, it seemed that every staff member of the university had been invitied. The foreign teachers of course were hearded together at one table so no one would have the burden of having to make conversation with them. I sank into the last empty seat, and after that it was a blurr of good food. This was actually their third wedding - the first was in her home town, the second in his, and now the third, in theirs - so bride and groom moved comfortably within their parts, and clothes. How daunting would it be to divorce after a three wedding marriage? I wondered.

After some speedy speeches and lethal baijiu toasts with guests at every table , the happy couple proceeded to dismantle her 3 foot by 3 foot bouquet of lilies and thorny, fat red roses. Both of them fired single stems like lethal darts into the crowd. There was quite a flurry to clutch them, as each lucky recipient would consequently be married within 6 months of possession. Interestingly, roses which seemed set on a course in my direction would suddenly veer away just before hitting their inanimate target, as if bouncing off an invisible force field.

I find long good byes harrowing, and thus at the earliest acceptable point in the proceedings, I saw my moment and was gone. Outside, everything was reassuringly normal. It was daytime, a sunny saturday afternoon. I was back at the wheel of my life, cruising along a buzzing Chinese street, breathing the mountain air, hearing the horns and conversation, brushing against people. 'Free, free, free', in the criminal words of Kate Chopin's Louise.