One word you hear a lot of the time in Sri Lanka is "auspicious" - nothing is done unless it is at the auspicious time as decreed by one's horescope. Before a couple get married, their horescopes are compared to assess their compatibility. How your birth date,time of birth and location of birth can tell you how you're going to get on together, I'm really not sure, but Sri Lankans swear by it. A couple will even get a percentage compatability score. Fortunately both weddings that I've been to have >80% scores so I don't have to worry about their futures! Once the compatibility is assured, the horoscope also tells the couple the best date to get married on and the exact time on which the Poruwa ceremony must start. The couple must put their right foot onto the step of the Poruwa Dias (see picture above) at the exact time. It's very precise - the first wedding I went to had to be spot on 1038 - it's the only time I've seen Sri Lankans be punctual for anything!
Both weddings I went to were Sinhalese but, interestingly, one was a "proposal" wedding and one was a "love affair" wedding. My colleagues say that the latter probably accounts for 70% of weddings in the country now. Girls, especially have great faith in their parents choice. The other difference between the two weddings was the choice of dress of the brides. One bride wore traditional "Kandian" style, and the other chose an Indian sari with a hint of western influence - a veil. Kandy is one of the main towns of the Hill country of Sri Lanka. It used to be the seat of the Kandian King and was the last stronghold to hold out to the Brits. Kandian saris are slightly different in styling to an Indian sari that you will be familiar with, and the bride wears countless numbers of necklaces and styles her hair in a beehive with gems running along the parting. Despite my inadequate description, she does look rather beautiful.
I arrived for both weddings about 30 minutes before the "auspicious" time and was surprised to be one of only about 25 guests. I knew both weddings were having about 200 people so I was slightly perturbed. People arrived in dribs and drabs throughout the ceremony. In fact, the sister of the first bride, my colleague and friend, Lanka, missed the entire ceremony, even though she had organised the whole thing, as she was getting her hair done! The ceremony starts with the arrival of the Kandian dancers and drummers (see photo) dressed all in their traditional silver-plated finery dancing the groom into the room. He is followed by his family and is greeted at the door by the parents of the bride. Next comes the bride's turn to be drummed and danced to meet her groom. She, of course, has a bridesmaid or two and a couple of flower girls. Bright lurid clashing colours are the name of the game at the moment in Sri Lanka - neon pink and blue was Harshi's choice for her bridesmaids. Once they meet, there is then a bit of hanging around until the "auspicious time" draws near. Once it does, the master of ceremonies, gets the couple and their respective families on either side of the raised Dias, called the Poruwa. At the appropriate time, their right foot must step onto the stand. Once safely on, a number of ceremonial acts are performed - a conch shell is blown - no one could quite tell me why - and a lot of Buddhist chanting gets done but the master of ceremonies. The couple exchange rings, much in the way we would do, and then a white sheet is tied around them joining them at the waist. This white cloth is (you'll never believe it) used on the wedding night to check that the bride was a virgin. I was politely told by one elderly male guest that he thought that this shouldn't be done anymore because "young girls ride bikes and do sports and things now-a-days so it won't always work"! With the cloth around them, their pinkie fingers are tied together with string and an uncle, on the bride's side, pours water over the knot to signify the union.
Next comes the present giving. The bride is given a necklace by the groom and then a sari which she'll wear to the Homecoming event - more of that later. The groom lucks out and doesn't get anything; instead the couple give presents to key people from both families. The bride's parents are first and they receive gifts, essentially from the groom, thanking them for bringing their lovely daughter into the world. The recipient is supposed to carry the gift away on their head but no one could really tell me why! Finally 4 young girls dressed in their white Temple saris (the equivalent of Sunday School best - see photo) chant at the couple for an inordinately long time. Apparently they are telling the couple the dos and don'ts of a successful marriage - how young girls of about 14 would know this, I'm not really sure! While this is going on, a coconut is split in half with a machete by another Uncle. How well the coconut splits signifies how strong the marriage will be and also confirms how many children they'll have. Fortunately both coconuts at the two weddings I attended, split perfectly, but, unfortunately, no coconut reader was on hand to tell me how many kids they'd have.
Once being chanted at, the couple move from the raised Poruwa stand and light the oil lamp. A golden oil lamp features in all key ceremonies in Sri Lanka - from the opening of a new office to celebrating New Year. The lamp is normally about 6 foot high with a Cockerel on the top. It has two tiers of lamps which are filled with coconut oil and a wick and lit by key members of the families and any dignitaries that are present. Once lit, the couple sit with the registrar and sign the documents to become legally married. I was surprised to see the groom at the first wedding read the document in absolute detail - it took him about 5 mins. If he hadn't worked out what he was signing up for until then, I would have been rather alarmed.
The formal ceremony draws to a close with the couple "cutting the cake". In the first wedding the cake had been replaced by "kiri bat" or milk rice sculpted to look like a cake. The couple cut it and then have to feed each other some. They then feed key family members some cake too - in the first wedding the photographer was so keen to get the "white women" in the pictures, that he ushered me up and insisted that I was fed some rice cake. In the second wedding, my colleague and friend, Dinushi, had decorated what looked like a traditional 3 tiered iced wedding cake. I was disappointed to learn, however, that they were all dummy cakes i.e. boxes that are iced. The couple simply cut a little piece of real cake hidden at the edge of the arrangement!
After all the formal ceremonial activities are finished, the couple sit on a chair surrounded by flowers - all fake - real flowers just don't last here in the heat. They're given a welcome drink and left to their own devices for the next hour or so. I felt rather sorry for them but, I guess if it's an arranged marriage, it's good to get to know your other half. Meanwhile the guests are given a welcome drink of a very undiluted squash - how I was dying for a cool glass of bubbly! After they've got to know each other, the couple are expected to go around all the tables and meet the guests. Brown envelopes of money are surreptitiously thrust into their hands by the guests as they go.
Whilst the greeting of guests is going on, the booze comes out. All of a sudden groups of men seem to gather and they're plied with arrack, the local whiskey equivalent, and beer. None of the women drink but the men make up for it. Within an hour some are pretty far gone. When stomachs start to rumble, the mother of the bride comes round with a glass of water on a plate which guests are supposed to touch - it is a signal to come an eat which I totally misunderstood at the first wedding. I was really thirsty and I thought she was just being nice and bringing me a glass of water. Fortunately someone stopped me in time before I made a fool of myself!
Food is the standard rice and curry buffet eaten with your fingers and eaten generally in silence. Once it's scoffed down at a fast rate of knots, the dancing begins. I was surprised to see that it's the men that start the dancing in Sri Lanka unlike the UK where it's not until the wee small hours that the men will start to get up and strut their stuff. The girls slowly get involved but the gents certainly dominate the dance floor. In fact, at the first wedding, they also took over the singing (mainly very badly) from the band and everyone was happy clapping the afternoon away.
Having started at 10.30am, both weddings were wrapped up at 4pm. The bride and groom then head off for their "honeymoon" - 2 nights in a local hotel - and are then expected at the "Homecoming" celebrations. These are held in the groom's village and represent him bringing home his bride. I haven't been to one of these but they follow a similar ceremonial pattern to the main wedding except that the bride wears red, the sari given to her from her husband on her wedding day. Most couples then move back into the home of one of their parents and carry on life as before until they have enough money (usually after a couple of years) to build their own home.
I feel very fortunate to have been able to experience both of these weddings but equally fortunate that I'm not a girl growing up in Sri Lanka. Many of the tuk tuk drivers, when they ask me if I'm married (normally the 2nd or 3rd question after "Where are you from?" and "How long have you been in Sri Lanka?") are surprised that I'm not married at 37. As I haven't learnt how to say "I've not found the right man yet" in Sinhala, I simply answer "epaa" which means "I don't want to", to which they respond with raucous laughs and "I'll help you find a good Sri Lankan man" - oh yeah - I've heard that before! Maybe I need to learn what my "auspicious time" is instead.
