My first few days at college, I didn’t know a soul so I wandered into the dorm lobby and hung out by the pool table. Eventually I started playing with an asian student. Eventually I met his friends, and 15 years later three of us are still close friends who live and work in northern california. One of them is getting married in December, which means I now know his fiancee and her friends and her family. Yesterday, at a restaurant to sample the food that’ll be served at the wedding banquet, I stood out as the lone caucasian at a table of chinese and filipino guests. From a blurry distance, I probably looked like a marshmallow floating on top of a sea of butterscotch.
My friends obviously speak English but their parents’ skills tend to be dicier. The nice thing is, the parents will talk to you anyway. It doesn’t matter whether you understand them or they understand you. The bride-to-be’s mother turns to me and says something that sounds like:
“Konichiwa don how?”
I respond, “I definitely have a problem with steel tariffs even if the short-term impact is to the protect the working class.”
“Yes, yes! Konichia don how.”
And we can go on like this for several minutes and end happily by drinking tea. The point is to be social, even if the exchange of information is highly limited.
The food tasting itself was also educational. I eat chinese food frequently, but this was serious banquet food and it carried its own set of unique traditions. I learned to watch everyone else before helping myself to the next course. Otherwise, I’d get involved in a conversation like:
“You like those kneecaps of braised duck?”
“Oh yes, delicious--”
“NO NO, do not throw bones away!”
“Oh. What do I do with them?”
“You take the bones and you hurl them at the other members of the wedding party. The flailing of poultry parts reminds us that every beginning also has an ending.”
I went to a Korean wedding last weekend and they’ve made it so white, I mean, Caucasian-American. Where’s the kimchi, man?
LOL. That sounds about right. Don’t forget the sharks fin soup. And don’t be surprised when the bride changes dresses several times during the banquet.
The several dress changes are there to remind us that Asian movies still suck. Besides martial arts movies, I mean.
Indian movies are the best! I love it when the action stops for a musical number sung by the female lead in a little girl voice having no resemblance whatsoever to her natural voice. I may start learning Hindi so I can skip the subtitles on at least one part of Bollywood’s production.
Sharks fin soup is delicious. I got into a big long harangue about eating the rest of the shark when I found out that they cut off the fin and set the shark free. I said, “Aren’t there poor people who want the rest of the shark?” As for the costume changes, I’ve seen the agenda and that’s exactly right. More costume changes than a ‘70s Elton John concert.
My husband and I are friends with a Catholic Mexican American/Catholic Chinese American couple and we were invited to their daughters christening celebration. Oh my...multiple courses and every damn thing still had it’s head, eyeballs, beeks, gills, snouts and feet...and it was all wonderful! We also sat with the only vegitarian cousin which was pretty amusing.
I had a conversation like that with my chinese sister-in-law’s mother. It was a real hoot. We were both doubled over in laughter. Then my sister-in-law had to go and translate : “She can’t believe you are the youngest [child in the family], you seem so much older.”
Ha! This happened to me in Russia. Went with the ex to visit one of his friends and it turned out that both her parents and her fiance were there and had prepared us this massive “tea” consisting of about ten different platters of food and a few bottles of wine. I couldn’t understand a word they said and they couldn’t understand a word I said but they talked at me ALL NIGHT LONG and moved me around the room by force when they wanted me to go to the table or back to the couch.
“You take the bones and you hurl them at the other members of the wedding party. The flailing of poultry parts reminds us that every beginning also has an ending.”
this is the problem with modern occidental society ... we forget the circularity of time and simly don’t hurl enough boneage at each other.
alas.
The “konnichiwa” bit is vaguely Japanese, but the rest sounds vaguely Chinese… (?).
Konichiwa is Japanese for hello. The bride-to-be’s mother was saying, “Hello, you don’t look Japanese!”
You haven’t enjoyed a Filipino wedding until the caterers fall through and you’re coopeted to make spring rolls in your formal wear before listening to cousin Julio sing karaoke…
HAHA! When my brother got married in Japan, my whole family experienced true gourmet Japanese food for the first time. Basically it’s all raw and cold. But the most memorable dish was this fried fish they gave everyone as a takeaway gift! You were supposed to take it home, admore it for a few days and then eat it. John tried some, said it tasted like shoe sole, so we left the rest for the hotel staff.
OK, one of my sisters is adopted. She was born in Beijing. She lives in SF now and had a very Chinese wedding with her birth parents in tow. It was one of the most fun weekends of my life. Let me tell you, shark fin dim sum is *fabulous*. And having entire conversations where neither side understands the other gets your imagination flowing. I think my sister had 3 dress changes during the reception. Barbie ain’t got nothin’ on my little sis.
Interesting to see all these comments on our tasting. It’s good to see that all other Chinese wedding reviews were positive in nature.
I am hoping the true East meets West event so I hope our guests will be in for a treat.
Funny to see the Konichiwa comment since I mentioned this to you the other day… heh.