Over The Hills And Far Away

My best friend texted me over the Victoria Day weekend to wish me a happy May 2-4 holiday, prefacing the text with a classic Zeppelin lyric: “Many times I’ve gazed along the open road.” I responded with “I am at a Tamil Catholic wedding. Talk about over the hills and far away!”

Yes, Praveena took me far from my comfort zone on Saturday, as she was a bridesmaid at her Tamil friend’s Catholic wedding in Brampton. I often found myself sitting there, staring in awe at things I didn’t understand. Yet while specific wedding traditions may change from culture to culture, the basics don’t. The key elements of any successful wedding are a pair of loving, willing participants and a good after-party. Fortunately, Saturday’s event offered both.

In true Canadian fashion, people of all colours were in attendance at the church: black, white, brown and yellow. I wondered if the church itself was of a Tamil Catholic denomination. The Tamil Catholic priest and Tamil-looking, red-and-white–gowned acolytes suggested as much, and the bird-decorated stained glass ceiling was something I’d never seen before. In the pews to the right of the aisle, the groom’s family sat, chanting in Tamil—Catholic words?—and fingering their rosaries. To the left sat the bridal contingent, including me. Several times I reflected on how hard the Christian proselytizers must’ve worked to brand convert the denizens of Tamil Nadu 2,000 years ago.

This wedding shared many similarities with most others I’d been to: the Jesus statues on the walls, the Bible readings, the classic vows exchanged by bride and groom, the priest’s declaration that the wedded couple raise their children according to the principles of Jesus Christ and the Catholic Church. But I’d never seen the groomsmen waiting for the bride in the aisle, with the groom standing closest to the altar. The Tamil Catholic priest speaking in lilting, heavily accented English (and occasionally Tamil) added another interesting flavour. And many women wore red wedding saris, lending an exotic visual flair to the proceedings.

Several Hindu traditions are incorporated into the Tamil Catholic wedding. Perhaps most notable is the marriage necklace. Similar in concept to the ring exchange (but not replacing it), the groom places around the bride’s neck a gold necklace (mangala sutra or “thali”), which the bride wears for life, identifying her as a married woman.

Held at a Brampton banquet hall later that evening, the reception embraced a collaboration of cultures. The menu foreshadowed as much, boasting a delectable buffet of Indian, Sri Lankan, Canadian and Chinese cuisines. When the wedding party entered the hall, with the bride running through a tunnel of people holding up sparklers, I dearly hoped a falling ember wouldn’t ignite the bridal dress. The couple’s mutual love and commitment were further symbolized when bride and groom each placed a flower garland around the other’s neck. And of course there was typical wedding stuff to augment the novelties: dance floor, open bar, silly games. Even a cotton candy maker was brought in to appease those with a midway-leaning sweet tooth. Everything was geared toward an outrageous but fitting celebration of life.

On more than one occasion I caught myself thinking about my own potential wedding. As the photo slide show depicted shots of the bride and groom, I instead imagined pictures of Praveena and me. I saw myself putting the thali around her neck, I envisioned both our parents sharing in the symbolic lighting of the holy lamp, I imagined each of us adorning the other with flower garlands.

Later in the evening, after Praveena had exchanged her pink bridesmaid dress for a purple-and green sari, I couldn’t stop gazing at her. I knew I wanted to share her culture and life. I knew I was lucky to be with someone so special. As if to confirm this, she soon revealed her hero side.

I was heading to the washroom out in the lobby when I saw a man on the floor with a few people gathered around him. Taking a closer look, I saw he was an older gentleman. I wondered if he was maybe passed out drunk or perhaps just resting. When someone mentioned blood, I went to get Praveena, who’s a doctor. While she assessed the situation, someone called 911. The man—an uncle on the groom’s side—had a pulse, but blood was now oozing onto the marble floor under his head.

By the time the paramedics arrived, Praveena had made sure he wasn’t in acute distress and put some towels under his head to cushion it and staunch the blood. The paramedics put him on a backboard and took him to hospital. Praveena would later surmise that he’d tried to lean against the wall, missed and went down, striking his head on the marble floor. Following up the next day, she’d find he’d been released from hospital, CT scan negative. Thus our weird, eye-opening day had a bit of a crazy ending. What’s a quintessentially Canadian celebration of life without a hint of mortality, eh?