A Very Rajasthani Wedding Anniversary
As it’s no doubt been documented here, I live with a host family — two lovely people, a government agronomist and a high school headmistress, who surely never did anything to deserve having to feed me, worry about my ability to traverse the state bus system, and provide me with a constant stream of landmarks to tell Jaipur’s address-challenged autorickshaw drivers. Besides all this and more, my host family sometimes lets me tag-along to family events where I get a window into middle class Indian life. It’s kinda like the polar opposite of summer 2008, during which I tagged along with surveyors to get a window into the lives of Northern Karnataka’s rural poor.
So, on Tuesday night, garbed in traditional Rajasthani dress, I hit up my host father’s sister’s 25th wedding anniversary. For a desert-dwelling people, Rajasthanis (who are famous for their modesty) didn’t design remarkably breathable clothing. The proper outfit requires a slip, covered by a long gauzzy skirt, a bra-type top, overwhich a full short kurta top is worn, and, over all this, a long scarf that is wrapped around the body and drapped from the skirt. Throw in a delayed monsoon and record heat in Jaipur (temperatures are hovering between 105 and 110 F), and the desire to move, beyond sipping cold water, disappears entirely.
Nonetheless, to celebrate the anniversary, the attending women danced traditional Rajasthani dances for one another (the menfolk chatted somewhere off in the background). In striped and jewel-toned garb, women of all ages twirled gracefully to folk songs. So militant were they in recruiting dancers, that I too was forced to take the stage and briefly, lumberingly attempt to imitate the dancers’ motions under the false assurance that it was all “very, very easy.” Needless to say, my incompetence was staggering.
Finally, at close to 1 AM, the night drew to a close, as the celebrated couple was playfully presented with presents, and we all made our ways, sweaty and serene, to our beds.
