Back in September, Jerry has a business trip to Denmark and I went with him. One morning at breakfast in the hotel I was feeling a bit bummed that I was going to have to tour alone that day when I noticed the moms of 3 of the Qatari engineers (they came along as chaperones) eating, so I went over, introduced myself, and asked them if they wanted to go to a modern art museum that day. We had a good time and it was fun to get to know some new people. (Also, we were all Aggie moms, since their daughters had graduated from Texas A&M Qatar!) Anyway, a month later I received the invitation to attend Noor's wedding and marveled how one good thing can lead to another.
Arabic weddings are unlike our ceremonies. For one thing, about 3 weeks before the event, the couple gets together with their parents and signs paperwork, sort of like getting the marriage license. Traditionally, the husband then gives the wife a shellah, or headscarf. (I can't help thinking that is not the wedding gift I would want to receive.) Three nights before the wedding, the women gather for a henna party, which is really not that much like a hen party. The henna designs are drawn on the bride's hands, arms, lower legs and feet, and the other women are able to get some done as well. When it first goes on, it is pretty thick and raised up, when it dries, it brushes off and the designs last for several weeks. Then, for the actual wedding, the bride celebrates with all the women at one location, the groom celebrates with the men, and at the end of the evening, the groom comes over to where the bride is (with only his and her male relatives in tow), and then all the other guys leave. So here is my night:
Unsure of what to wear, I asked most everyone I knew over here to see who had attended a wedding what the attire was. My closet is pretty basic, but fortunately, we brought Allison and Monica's prom dresses over here! I wore Monica's bright pink number from her Junior year--and didn't take any really deep breaths for the night. I also dug out my old black abaya from our Saudi days and wore that over the dress, more as a coat.
I felt like Cinderella going to the ball as I parked the SUV and walked inside the elaborate Sheraton hotel and searched for the right room. At the end of the night, I had the complete experience since I took off my high heels to get to the car. Made me think that Cinderella may have had a different reason for that slipper left behind on the stairs. . .
Once inside, they requested the ticket that came with the wedding invitation and then I had to turn in my mobile phone since it had a camera in it. I knew ahead of time that I wouldn't be able to take photos, but I wished I could have captured some of the sights, without violating the privacy of the women. The huge runway style raised dance floor, the beautiful red rose centerpieces on tall crystal pillars at each table (allowed you to see all the others sitting accross from you), the intricate henna designs on so many arms, hands, and feet, the white silk cloths hanging around the entire room to provide a secure environment so that the women could feel free to take off their headscarfs and black robes. A surprising number of women kept them on though. But, I think many were wearing more elaborate and decorative robes than their usual ones. The bride's mother, a very traditional Qatari who didn't speak much English, had a beautiful silver dress on and her sister wore a lovely blue dress, with no abayas in sight.
The event was to start at 9 pm, but I had read that most people arrived fashionable late. Well, that fit right in with how my timing usually operates! Due to getting a bit lost, I entered around 9:30 and found a fair number of people there. I think the guest list was between 250 and 300 women, based on the number of tables and centerpieces in the room. I immediately gravitated towards the only other two western women, who were also conveniently located near the front with an excellent view of the dance floor. Turns out they were also from Maersk, the wives of some of the managers. During the course of the evening, several of the young female engineers at Maersk stopped by to introduce themselves (which was nice since I had met them before, but they looked a lot different dressed up and without head scarves!) and to visit; Fatima, Aisha, Hissa, Sara, as well as my three Aggie Moms.
A traditional band was playing, but since they were all male, there was a partition between them and our party so they couldn't see the women and vice versa. The young girls all got up to dance and it really looked like fun--I wished I could have gone up there too. I kept thinking if only my sisters were here. . . The style was a sort of belly dancing hip thrust which reminded me of Zumba classes and it was done in a walk back and forth runway style. Apparently, weddings are also a showcase for all the older moms to look over the young girls with an eye to future arranged marriages. So, maybe it was okay that I didn't get up and dance. As the girls danced, others would shower them with one riyal bills (worth about $.25 each), flinging dozens in the air to float down over their heads. Two maids spent the evening frantically collecting these and stuffing them in bags; I think the money was either for the bride or was saved as a tip for the band. A friend wondered why, with all the elaborate decorations, they didn't have lovely cloth bags for the collection instead of using plastic sacks from the grocery store. When I saw Sara up there dancing, I asked my companions if they wanted to toss money with me, although they declined and remained in their seats. But, oh it was hard to just walk back across the platform and not dance my way to my seat!
At 11 pm, preparations began for the bride's arrival. Her girlfriends lined up on either side of the dramatic entry way in the back of the room (curtains, strings of crystals to walk through), with two servants carrying large incense burners to perfume the path. Servants were also going through the crowd offering the traditional musky arabic perfume as well. The music was traditional arabic, but without words when she walked in. Her dress was beautiful, white with a 10 ft train, strapless, beaded, and she also had two servants fixing the front of the gown and one in the back with every step she took. I thought they might get in the way for the millions of photos, but maybe it would have been harder for her to walk without them. It was a pretty long walk too, across the ball room, then up on the long dance floor runway. Her hair was an elaborate mass of curls and her veil did not cover the top of her head, it started at the middle of the back of her hair. When she got to the middle of the runway, she stopped and was greeted by her friends and all the older women, tossing money over her head and kissing her on both cheeks. She sat on a long white sofa that had been placed at the very end of the runway and got some great photos with all her friends posed around her. At one point she had several women up front posed next to her and I asked Sara if they were her bridesmaids. She told me that they were her sisters and that they didn't have bridesmaids; that her good friends were all considered her bridesmaids. I don't think she got to dance. Then about 45 minutes after she walked in, all the Qatari women started to put their abayas back on and cover their heads with their scarves. Wooden screens were pulled in front of Noor to shield her from view.
Around midnight, the groom and his father wearing the fancy white and black robes that the Sheik wears, arrived with all the male relatives (hers and his) in tow. Probably about 30 guys, some as young at 8, many of eligible age, and others older, walked in and the older women showered money on them as well. When they got to the front, the screens were pulled back and Hamad got to see his bride--she did not have to put on her abaya or head scarf. The men congratulated them, and then they left, getting showered with money again. The maids were kept busy collecting the bills, except for those that were tossed over the head of a boy around ten years old. He scooped them up and kept them himself, with a big grin.
After the men left (the only one who stayed was Hamad and possibly the bride's father), the rest of the women went up and congratulated the couple as well. The buffet line was opened in the next room and they must have had enough food to feed 600. It was traditional arabic fare--hummous, baba ghanoush, matouble, fatoosh, tabouli, flat bread, rice pilafs, chicken, fish, lamb, fruits, and lots of desserts. No traditional wedding cake though!
When it got quieter, Sara took me up to congratulate the couple and she felt the need to put her scarf over her face because she was wearing so much makeup and didn't want a man to see her that way. That made me kind of sad. I told Hamad he was the luckiest man in the room and Noor answered that he was the only man in the room. He is a lucky guy though--she is an Aggie Engineer (Texas A&M Qatar), smart, beautiful, and funny. They went to the Maldives for their honeymoon and then they are going to move to California for a year with his computer job with Yahoo. I know Noor was looking forward to it and I can't help but think about all the opportunities that will be open to the two of them. Qatar Petroleum is holding her job for her (she works for them at Maersk Oil). She and Sara were amazed that I was wearing an abaya over my dress. I wondered if they secretly liked the fact that I didn't have to wear one? But, I think I am putting out my own ideas on how women should be able to dress and act, because they never said as much in words.
I left around 1:00 am and Sara told me that the party would probably go until 3 am. I asked her if she had an arranged marriage set up and she quickly said she didn't want one. In Noor's case, even though the marriage was arranged, she did have the opportunity to say yes or no, and they also were able to get to know each other before the wedding. It made it seem more like a blind date with lots of potential.
