I had the privilege of receiving a wedding invitation by one of my Vietnamese colleagues. As I am a big fan of free food parties, how could I resist? To my great joy and probably hers too, her groom-to-be decided not to bail on the wedding and everything went according to plan. The venue for the wedding reception was Maxims, which immediately gave me a déjà-vu. Wasn’t someone I know supposed to have a party here two weeks ago? I guess not all of us can make the big step (and this time I’m not referring to myself).
The last wedding I went to, I felt that I was seriously overdressed so I decided to come in fairly formal shorts and a nice black t-shirt. As I approached the restaurant, it came to my attention there were two weddings going on, one upstairs and one downstairs. If you have never been to a South East Asian wedding, well let me tell you this, the brides tend to put on a whole department store worth of cosmetics on their delicate faces. I went to the photographs standing in front of each wedding reception and obviously, I couldn’t recognize my colleague. I started wondering if I was at the right place, but then luckily, I saw a sign with her name. And coming back to my clothes, I was seriously underdressed this time. Damn!!! But I did recognize my colleague once I put my face right at her picture.
To summarize, a Vietnamese wedding is about food, Vietnamese men getting hammered, and your eardrums getting pounded while enjoying the lovely food. The food bit is a part I just can’t resist. We were given five different local dishes, and I ate to justify my reputation as a calories-are-my-best-friends’ gourmet. About every five minutes, the men sitting at the table next to ours would throw down a shot of vodka or a glass of beer. Every ten minutes, they would come to the table I was sharing with my foreign and Vietnamese colleagues. A quick one, two, three and cheers!!! Always fun, having a drunk dude hanging all over your shoulder, although you’re drinking plain water. The band, or actually to be more exact the loudspeakers, did an excellent job of making conversations near impossible. At some point, I thought my ears were going to sue me for negligence.
Besides the Vietnamese band and local dance acts, my American colleague Rick gave a virtuoso performance. The crowd absolutely loved him, and he just stood there on stage cracking jokes and singing songs in Vietnamese like it was the most normal thing on earth. At the end, he was a real superstar, being invited for more “vodka shot” rounds. His face glowed even more once he rejoined our table.
The last wedding I went to, I felt that I was seriously overdressed so I decided to come in fairly formal shorts and a nice black t-shirt. As I approached the restaurant, it came to my attention there were two weddings going on, one upstairs and one downstairs. If you have never been to a South East Asian wedding, well let me tell you this, the brides tend to put on a whole department store worth of cosmetics on their delicate faces. I went to the photographs standing in front of each wedding reception and obviously, I couldn’t recognize my colleague. I started wondering if I was at the right place, but then luckily, I saw a sign with her name. And coming back to my clothes, I was seriously underdressed this time. Damn!!! But I did recognize my colleague once I put my face right at her picture.
To summarize, a Vietnamese wedding is about food, Vietnamese men getting hammered, and your eardrums getting pounded while enjoying the lovely food. The food bit is a part I just can’t resist. We were given five different local dishes, and I ate to justify my reputation as a calories-are-my-best-friends’ gourmet. About every five minutes, the men sitting at the table next to ours would throw down a shot of vodka or a glass of beer. Every ten minutes, they would come to the table I was sharing with my foreign and Vietnamese colleagues. A quick one, two, three and cheers!!! Always fun, having a drunk dude hanging all over your shoulder, although you’re drinking plain water. The band, or actually to be more exact the loudspeakers, did an excellent job of making conversations near impossible. At some point, I thought my ears were going to sue me for negligence.
Besides the Vietnamese band and local dance acts, my American colleague Rick gave a virtuoso performance. The crowd absolutely loved him, and he just stood there on stage cracking jokes and singing songs in Vietnamese like it was the most normal thing on earth. At the end, he was a real superstar, being invited for more “vodka shot” rounds. His face glowed even more once he rejoined our table.
The wedding party didn’t last very long, perhaps two hours. The guests gradually started going home, while I was still enjoying the food. It was so delicious that I sort of lost track of time, and started getting subtle hints from the waiters it was time to go home. A few more fish balls and veggies, and I was ready to go.
The bride seemed very happy when we left. Still being curious, I haven’t been able to stop wondering for the last few days. Two months ago, I asked my colleague if she had a boyfriend and she said no. You can imagine my surprise when I found out about the wedding. An arranged wedding? Most probably.
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