Wanderlustress: Makings of a To’y

I turned out to be the only one with a camera at the wedding, and therefore, became the unofficial photographer – for both sides of the family. It made me happy that I had brought my SLR kit with the opportunity now to capture this important event for my host-family. These images will make a lasting gift for years to come, and even though they seem to prize more highly the video-recording that they hired, I am certain they will appreciate the prints over the years to come – after I am long gone from Uzbekistan.

Lucky for me, the camera gave me privileged entry to front and center view of everything – from gaining access to the male-only guest seating area, to the closed-door introduction of the bride and groom prior to the wedding (it was their second meeting ever!), and to other ceremonies which even my host-sisters have never before witnessed.

On the first day of the wedding, as guests continued to stream through the groom’s house starting at dawn, a group of family members, including the groom, left around noon to go to ‘pick up’ the bride from her home in nearby Ferghana City. Me in my traditional “atlas” (traditional silk material) Uzbek dress and “dopa” (traditional Uzbek hat), looked completely Uzbek – except for the huge Nikon hung around my neck. Turned out, I was the only one in traditional dress, making the whole experience feel imbalanced and ironic. Several times, a guest would ask my host-sister, whom I was standing next to, “So where is your American guest?”

Not only did we pick up the bride in Ferghana, but to my surprise, we actually went to a wedding there that was hosted by the bride’s family! Yes, I was really confused thinking the wedding was going to be back at the house in Andijon (which will take place later), but I just went with the flow and snapped away as the bride and groom entered the large hall where a few hundred of the bride’s relatives received them. After four hours at this huge banquet where nothing ceremonious occurred, except for a lot of toasts and dancing by guests. The bride (in her fluffy western white wedding dress) and groom merely sat at their head table the entire time, except to occasionally come down to the dance floor to offer the dancing guests money. Other guests did this, too, but strangely enough, all the money that anyone who danced collected, was promptly given to the band, hmmmm…I know, I’m still confused, too. If I could have kept the money handed to me, it would have made up for the embarrassment of being called up to make a toast in front of all those people and then to have to dance, too – there was nothing worse that day than looking Uzbek, but dancing like an American!

After the banguet, the bride headed back to her house where she changed into travel clothes, parted with her family by kneeling with her mother in front of a family elder who said a prayer. After the prayer was recited, everyone with their cupped hands, did the traditional “oman” (motion of hands in front of the face as if splashing water on it). Uzbeks also do the oman before getting up from a meal, and every time they pass a cemetery as well. I’ve often been caught off guard while riding a “marachuka” (taxi van) and all of a sudden, everyone will raise their hands and do the oman while I just sit there, dumbfounded.

Six hours after leaving for Ferghana, I found myself exhausted at the end a full day that began at 4.30am after very little sleep. As we headed back to Andijon to produce yet another to’y that will last late into the night, I took the opportunity to snuggle up to my camera bag and take a much needed snooze…