A Tuscan Wedding, Day 3: The Hindu Ceremony, The Return of the Blue Gown and Bob’s Train Track Adventure!

 The third day of our Tuscany wedding started early.  At 9 am, we were to arrive and witness the “Kashi Yatra,” a part of the ceremony during a Hindu wedding. The story, as explained in Wikipedia, is that the groom decides to go on a pilgrimage carrying slippers, an umbrella and fans but the bride’s father tries to persuade his to stay and marry his daughter. As this was my first Hindu wedding, while all beautiful, I thought there were a lot of moving parts and it was difficult to follow, mostly because nearly all of it was in Sanskrit.  But there were some moments that need to be mentioned:

1. The bride looked beautiful in her traditional attire and the altar, with gorgeous pink and white roses and the Tuscan countryside as the backdrop, was nothing short of magnificent. 

2. Bob played an impromptu role in the ceremony.  I’m not exactly sure what point of the ceremony we were at, but a member of the groom’s family was supposed to be part of the processional in walking the bride to the altar.  My niece was supposed to be that family member, but no one could find her. One of the many women who seemed to be leading the ceremony, saw Bob and said, “You’re an uncle, right?” He shook his head in the affirmative, and she immediately said, “Alright, come on!” And he followed.  Several things happened with Bob playing this role. He was immediately told by the bride’s mother to take off his shoes and then begin to throw rice on the bride, our new niece.  Apparently he did it with a bit too much vigor and she began coughing, which resulted him being scolded by another woman, “Alright, that’s enough!” I would be remiss without saying that after being married to someone for forty years, you pretty much know how they think. This brings us back to Bob’s shoe removal. It had rained the night before and while there was a white platform in place for the processional, it had become quite wet from all the people who had previously walked on it.  I knew that all my husband was thinking about was that walking in the processional was going to make his socks soaking wet. After his role was completed, he turned to me and the first thing he said was not, what a privilege his role had been or how beautiful the bride looked. No, he said, “My socks are soaking wet!” I can read him like a book. 

3. The Indian women were in charge. Although there was a Hindu priest, many of the women were on the altar/stage telling him what do or that he was doing something wrong. For example, in one part of the ceremony, the bride and groom were supposed to be taking seven steps together, each of them symbolizing a wish for their future. As the couple began, a woman came up to the priest and said that the groom was supposed  to be on his knees for this part! The priest didn’t disagree then all of a sudden, Brendan went down to his knees like he had been shot! These ladies must have been the original “wedding planners!”

4. Due to the length of the ceremony, there was a whole lot going on beyond what was happening on the altar. When comparing this experience to what I know, Catholic weddings, the expectations are very different. For a Catholic wedding, you are guaranteed to be in and out in an hour, but you are expected to pay attention—or at least fake it and/or not fall asleep.  The Hindu ceremony was several hours long and people from the very beginning were milling around, talking, getting things to eat and bringing them back to their seats, drinking coffee and taking pictures, including behind the altar, so that everyone who was too nervous to leave their seats (Clearly Brendan’s family and friends) could see them! There were even a few children playing on the altar! My family and friends of our brother-in-law and sister-in-law were so anxious in not being disrespectful during the ceremony and leaving our seats, that we missed some pretty good snacks!  Bob however, was still trying to dry his socks…

The last formal event on the wedding agenda was a black tie dinner and it was time for my dreaded blue gown to be worn.  I tried to be upbeat when I began to pull up my Honeylove shapewear.  It was a little easier to get on than the first time I tried that torture device and I could actually still breathe with relative ease.  And the gown actually looked fine!  But it was all for naught because this dinner was held alfresco in the beautiful moonlit Tuscan countryside….and I was freezing! I had my wrap on the whole night and consequently, the gown could only be seen from the knees down! I could have gotten away with wearing my “old lady” underwear and been able to breathe even better!

This morning, we left very early to head to Rome to spend a day there before heading home tomorrow. The plan was to take a van from Il Borro to the train station in Florence and then a train to Rome. We were doing fine but as I was getting on the train and attempting to pick up my 48.5 pound suitcase  (boy, I hope it weighs that for the flight home), hit Bob, who was standing behind me, in the face, knocking his glasses off directly onto the train tracks! He had to jump down (which in his late 60’s, is not that easy!) and feel for them between the train and the platform! The kids said they turned around and saw their dad on the tracks thinking that he had fallen! It all ended happily, as he found them within a minute, only slightly inconveniencing the 50 people behind him attempting to get on the train..

As this will be this journey’s last blog, I can’t express how beautiful this wedding was. But it was not, at least for me, the best part of the vacation.  It was being with family—our kids, our grandson and our brother-in-law, sister-in-law and niece.  These opportunities don’t happen too often and the memories made before, during and after the wedding, are what we will remember most. 

Until the next time, Ciao Bella Italia!