Now if any of you are wondering what the picture I used in my last blog post is of, I will explain. If you aren’t go back, take a look at it, get curious, and come back to this post to find out.
The picture is one of many I took lat Monday when I attended one of my former student’s wedding. He was actually one of my very first students and way back in December he had invited me to his wedding. At the time I thought he was just being nice and maybe even a little bit impulsive, the lesson we were covering was on big changes after all. However, when he came back in person the other week to hand me my invitation in person, I couldn’t refuse. So, Monday night I found myself scrambling to get home after work in order to throw on a dress, heels, and some make up in a half hours time so I could meet his best friend who was to chauffeur me to the groom’s house and then the ceremony.
As the title suggests this was only a part of the wedding ceremony. This particular wedding will be 3 days when all is said and done. However, depending on the family and region they come from some Tunisian weddings can be as long as a whole week! The Henna night that I attended was actually day two. The first night which had taken place the previous Saturday was a dinner only for family and close friends. The Henna night, the second night, was for all the women the bride and groom could possibly know. Ok, I am sure it was slightly selective, but as I was walking up the catwalk-like aisle in the ballroom it sure as hell felt like every Tunisian women was there. Furthermore, all and I mean ALL of these women were dressed up in the most colorful, sparkly dresses you can imagine. Really, they shouldn’t even be called dresses, the words outfits or costumes are probably better descriptors It truly seemed like everyone was wearing a costume out of a Tim Burton film ( minus the creepiness), well everyone except for me. Yep, that’s right everybody and their mother, but ME! Saying I was under dressed doesn’t really do it justice. But how was I supposed to know that a nice luncheon dress, heels and nylons (for crying out loud!) wasn’t going to cut it?!? I had even asked a couple of my Tunisian coworkers if my dress would be ok and they had assured me, after exchanging some shifty looks, that my dress would be fine. I should have known from their looks that I was in for a big surprise. However, they probably thought, and rightly so, that I would be able to get away with my dress since I was a foreigner and new to “all this”. I write “all this” because I honestly don’t really know what to call it. I still feel like it was a exciting, colorful, loud, and slightly terrifying dream. Therefore, if the following narrative sounds more like a dream well, you know why:
So as I said in the beginning, the groom’s best friend (who spoke fairly good English) was instructed to pick me up at 9pm in order to drive me back to the groom’s house where everyone one was meeting before going to the hotel where the actual party was to take place. Although I was late getting to our rendezvous spot, due to my obnoxious heels I might add, we were still the first people to arrive at the groom’s father’s home. After meeting his two brothers and younger sister, I was escorted to the sitting area and introduced to his two aunts. Luckily I didn’t have to converse with them too much in my broken Arabic due to the arrival of many of his female relatives. After that it was just a lot of kissing on the cheek sitting and waiting silently. If I wasn’t in shock from seeing all the bedazzling dresses walking through the door, I was after kissing at least 20 strangers on the cheek. While I arguably should be used to this standard “Tunisian greeting”, the part of me that cherishes my personal bubble was screaming out in protest. Consequently, after getting up kissing many womens’ cheeks time and time again, I shocked into sitting stock still wondering what was going on and what was going to happen.
After about a half hour a invisible signal was given and everyone rose and headed for the door to go the party. Again, the groom’s best friend gave me a lift. However, once we were there he transferred me to the groom’s sister,Mona, who I followed into the ballroom. Now, I don’t get easily intimidate, but walking up the aisle was down right intimidating. I felt that everyone woman in that ballroom was either shooting me daggers or undressing me. Whether this is the truth or pure fantasy, bottom line is I never want to do that again. When I tried to subtly ask Mona where I should sit thinking she would point to one of the far off side tables, she instead grabbed my hand and escorted me to the seat right next to her…at the family table! So instead of escaping off to the side and disappearing into the masses, I was front and center, literally. Well the rest is a bit of a loud 5 hour, musical blur, but the pictures below should explain most of it.
The bride entering in her first of four dresses. Because her dress was many layers thick and made of gold, it was quite heavy. Consequently, she had to be escorted up the aisle and onto the stage
As you can see she was also wearing a hood which I am sure made it nearly impossible to see where see was going
Next she began to slowly spin around and sway to the time of the music. While I couldn’t make out all the words, it sounded religious in nature.
swaying
During each of the four dress changes, relatives and friends took to the dance floor to dance.
The musicians. While the music was pretty it was WAY too loud. My ears were ringing when I left the ballroom 5 hours later!
The brides friends and family looking onward. I specifically took this picture to capture all of the different dresses.
After the bride came in the second time in her second dress and swayed for several minutes, she was handed gold pieces of fabric which she waved around while her friends and relatives danced below.
The third dress.
This time while the music played the bride state still with her face and hands covered in gold. About half way through this little boy got curious.
more dancing
The final time the bride came in she was escorted by the groom.
When the finally got onto the stage there was more dancing
The Bride and Groom
While I am extremely glad that I went, next time someone asks me to go to a Henna party, I will have to think long and hard before excepting and I will definitely plan an escape route!
A Different Type of Education 
Hi Erin,
You got a curious mind, a Tunisian one by the way 🙂
It’s really interesting to see a Tunisian wedding through the eyes of a foreign visitor.
I feel sorry for the unpleasant feeling you felt either from the excessive cheek kissing or being irritatingly stared at into the ballroom. But, you’re not alone with this, I got a lot irritated when I went to wedding parties(even though I’m Tunisian), I have lived through much worse experiences than yours(I even got depressed after one relative wedding)sad truth 😦 to be told.
So I decided not to go to any wedding party no matter how close the relative is. Unfortunately, my sister wedding will be next year and there is no escape route 😦
Thanks for reading(forgive my English, or any grammar mistake 🙂 )
I am so laughing. I was in the same predicament last month. The more my Tunisian “family” tried to make me feel welcome, the more uncomfortable I became and the more I loved them! Especially looking at the pictures now that I am back home. I wish I had read a blog like yours BEFORE the wedding. I didn’t understand the three step process and at every celebration I would have dressed differently: I would have: 1) worn a different dress and ditched the heels; 2) learned more conversational Arabic; 3) learned some belly dancing basics. Being left alone for HOURS by with people I had only met was way, no matter how sweetly they smiled, was way out of my comfort zone.