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As if to signify the polar differences between our two families, the tea ceremony for my side of the wedding took place in the most haphazard manner possible.
Firstly, the person involved in bringing my paternal grandparents to hotel were late so after serving tea to my parents, we had to deviate from the regular order of events.
With most of my extended family overseas, we didn’t have many relatives to serve. The problem we had was locating them, for they were scattered right across the entire hotel and we had to send messengers to gather them to the tea ceremony room.
The tea was served according to whomever arrived at the room first. My grandparents were wheeled in halfway through the proceedings and given preference at the that time. I’m sure we missed out a few of my relatives along the way, but they obviously weren’t complaining because nobody protested at all that they didn’t get any tea.
Much to C’s despair, most of the time was spent standing around while our messengers were looking for the missing relatives. Poor C… Having stood for most of the day, his feet were not holding up too well.
The tea ceremony was unofficially concluded by 6pm. Unofficial because my maternal grandfather was unable to attend the tea ceremony so I served him during dinner. Since he was sitting at a table with my Uncle and Aunt who also did not attend my tea ceremony, we were obliged to include them for formality.
I managed to sneak in half an hour’s sleep in the bridal suite while everyone was busy receiving guests in the foyer. I decided that it was probably a good idea to play the “old fashioned” bride who would hide away in the room until her grand entrance once all the guests were seated. The “modern day” bride would mingle with the guests and sip cocktails until the dinner commenced.
The “rest” was somewhat awkward because of my hair and make-up. I slept stiff-necked on my side with the edge of my forehead balanced against the pillow. Even so, I managed to smudge some mascara which my matron of honour corrected for me.
My matron of honour was a real gem. She made sure I ate and rested whenever possible, and attended to all my unspoken whims. She fixed all my “messy” moments and made sure I gave my best angle for the cameras. I was so worried I was asking too much of her as she was in her second trimester, but she soldiered on like the wonder that she is.
Since this blog is about wedding traditions, I have to add that there is some supersitition against the mixing of a pregnant women and the bride. I don’t understand the full extent of it, but I got the drift when I was scouting around for some hair and make up artists and one lady told me she was pregnant. She said that she realises it could be a problem and understood if I didn’t want her as my make-up artist. It didn’t take much brain power to figure that such things were frowned upon by some of the more superstitious.
In CS’s case, I chose to ignore what I didn’t understand. She was one of my closest friends who had ridden the worst of the storm with me in all my years back in Malaysia. I couldn’t think of anyone more fitting for the task. And at the time that I approached her, she wasn’t pregnant.
Besides, who said a pregnant women couldn’t bring luck to the bride? She was certainly our rabbit’s foot during the groom’s tests in the morning. The groom knew there was a pregnant woman on the other side of the door, so he had not dared to bang down my bedroom door as his Heng Tais had suggested. CS had single-handedly upped the ante on the stakes just by her sheer presence.
Other posts that might interest you:
- The "Koh Tai Lei"
- My Wedding
- Wedding Day Morning – A Groom’s Perspective
- When is it Time to Get Help?
- The Ground Breaking Ceremony
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