In the space of a week I have experienced both a Khmer wedding and a Khmer funeral although I can’t say that I understand how either works yet! Both ceremonies appear to involve incredibly loud music pumped to the ears of all through loud speakers which usually starts somewhere between half past 4 and 6 o’clock in the morning! Both ceremonies also seem to last at least 2 days.
The funeral I observed from a far and really only experienced the mourning music. An elderly man died just up the road from my house so for two days after his death a huge awning was erected, food eaten and loud music and chanting amplified around the place. I did manage to tune out the music most of the time despite it being pretty relentless although I did use some choice words which I won’t repeat here when it woke me up at 5am for the third time. I can only describe the music as absolutely terrible. Most of it sounded like someone singing in a really high pitch whilst holding their nose, having something very painful done to their toenails and wearing very tight trousers all at the same time. And that was the more bearable. All was forgiven though when I watched the amazing procession of school children, friends and neighbours, monks, family and coffin march past. I surreptitiously took these photos from my balcony.
I have no idea whose wedding I turned up to today but I was definitely invited! I think the bride was related to someone who I work with but I don’t think I would recognise the bride if I ever met her again. In fact I have my doubts whether the groom was sure who he was stood next to for most of the day! The amount of make-up worn on her face was enough to make it hard to crack a smile or to keep her eyes open for long. We had evidently been invited to the second day of the celebrations (a bit like being invited to the evening ‘do’ of a Western wedding – the party!). The first day is a huge procession from the groom’s house to the bride’s house where another huge awning is erected. I’m not sure what happens in the actual ceremony but from seeing my landlord’s photo album this evening, I know that a lot of photos are taken.
It was a very interesting afternoon which became all the more interesting each time my glass was topped up with beer. Cambodians tend to raise a toast and say the Khmer equivalent of ‘Cheers’ everytime someone lifts their glass to drink! We herded into the awning and sat at a free table (no place names at this wedding!). As soon as the table was full the food arrived. I spied some sort of fried roll which went down a treat. Then as soon as we were half way through one course, another course would arrive. It was very good food on the whole (although I steered clear of the pig’s ear which came fried with cabbage) and I completely lost count of them. There seemed to be appetizer, then a mountain of something fried, then a-cook-it-yourself dish of beef and vegetables, then a whole chicken, then rice... and so the list went on! And all the time, wandering in between the tables are incredibly poor children collecting empty cans and bottles which they sell to recycle: 100 Riel for 2 cans (about 1p).
All the photos are a lovely rosey pink colour because we were in a lovely rosey pink coloured tent!
As well as courses, I also lost count of the number of beer cans which were poured into my glass and as a barang and the only female drinking alcohol (the Cambodian women seem to come, eat and leave whereas the men come, eat, drink, drink some more and then leave) I increasingly became the subject of some attention. I will profess to be able to drink far more alcohol than the average Cambodian man despite being somewhat out of practice; however I decided that this was neither the time nor the place to prove it. A fact that became all the more obvious when some of the wedding guests who, dare I say it had definitely had more than one too many, proceeded to try and persuade me to dance. Now in normal circumstances, I would not need much coercing to take my place on the dance floor but something told me that my ‘running man’ would not be appreciated in quite the same way as I’m used to. Thankfully I was accompanied by a translator who could assist me in making a hasty retreat. At the exit we thanked the bride and groom, handed them an envelope of money (the Khmers seem to prefer hard cash to a Debenhams or equivalent gift list), dodged a few more drunken dancers and sped home!
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