2 Weddings and 25 Funerals

Dear Everyone,

On Saturday, I was invited to attend a traditional Kichwa wedding by Segundo and Maria. It was one of their nephews or cousins, or some sort of relative. I was honored and really excited that I was going to be a part of it.

Saturday morning, I woke up with purpose, had a hearty breakfast, a bucket bath, and put on my Sunday best (which, being a "backpacker," meant a sweater and some corduroys). The three of us (the kids didn't want to come to a boring wedding) headed down the hill and into Otavalo. The ceremony was taking place at the city's main cathedral called San Luis, right in the center of town. We were a little late, but as with everything else here, no one cared. I may have stood out a little being a foot taller, 10 shades whiter, and not wearing a poncho but I'm used to stares at this point.

The priest was actually really funny, making jokes about cooking and cleaning and the horrors of parenting. Unfortunately, as with events explained in previous blogs (see "Bound to Tradition"), everyone being indigenous seemed uncomfortable and tense in this Western-looking Catholic event. I tried to convince myself that this was different and that I was being hyper-critical, but then, as the bride and groom left under showers of rice, the band played "Here Comes the Bride." It was almost too perfect, as if they did so for the sake of my blog!

There was then a long break between ceremony and reception so the food can be prepared and people can buy gifts. No Pottery Barn registry here. People go to the surplus stores scattered around town (sadly, all they get here, outside of Quito at least, is rejects from American and European stores). I bought an ugly set of glassware, and Segundo picked out a hideous pot set and we set off. As we neared our house (which is just across the street from the groom's house and thus reception area), Segundo asked that we stop to pick up some beer. Now usually I would have applauded such a move, but he really wanted to bring a 24-pack to his cousin's wedding?? He started to explain that every man who attends is required to bring 24 beers, when we were interrupted by Maria asking me to carry 30 eggs and 5 pounds of salt. This Kichwa wedding tradition (and it may actually be Ecuadorian as well, but I don't know) is to do exactly that: every woman has 30 eggs and 5 pounds of salt to bring and every man 24 beers.

I carried the case of beer and eggs on behalf of Segundo's 80 year-old parents and arrived at a concrete brick enclosure covered with garbage bags. There were enough chairs for about 125 people and a band was already playing. We grabbed some seats and I just people-watched for the next half hour as man after man and woman after woman arrived with their beer and eggs, respectively.

Seemingly out of no where, an old woman carrying a washing bucket walks up to me, sticks her hand in the bucket, pulls out a potato and unidentifiable meat cutlet and throws it on my lap with her bare hands! This was dinner. No plates, no cutlery, no sanitation practices of any sort, but bucket after bucket of meat and starch. I inquired as to approximately how many animals had been slaughtered in honor of this matrimony and was told about 5 pigs and 20 chickens, and that I was welcome in the back room where all of this was occurring if I was interested. I gently and kindly refused, and fed most of my serving discreetly to a passing dog (oh, and as everywhere, there were dozens of dogs making the most of the celebration by collecting scraps).

Now the party really began. Each man, I then learned, was required to walk around the room and dispense of all 24 of his beers to the guests. It is sort of game, because you are allowed to refuse the first cup poured (by the way, only one cup of course) and the dispensing man has to drink it and pour you another. The idea is that everyone is forcefully inebriated which will presumably lead to a great party. That wasn't all. Most women had additionally brought a box of wine each. This is truly terrible stuff, worse than you might expect even for BOXED wine. It is either peach or apple flavored and half sugar. Then came the traditional stuff with a couple of really old ladies. They had brewed their own chicha and were passing it around in buckets. Oh and one more alcohol in case that wasn't enough. Moonshine, or as I have previously mentioned, 'puro' or 'aguardiente.' Really filthy vile stuff. You can almost notice your sight leaving you as you sip in.

Now everyone was really ready to dance of course. But...the band played the same damn song for over 2 hours. And the "dancing" was just taking two steps back and two steps forward. No hips, no touching of even hands, no grooving or moving or any sort. I was so disappointed. Here I am after quite a few cups of beer, wine, chicha, and puro ready to break it down! Alas, it was not meant to be. Eventually, I bored of the whole thing and meandered back across the street to get some much needed dinner.

The music continued on until the wee hours, and eventually Segundo stumbled in, cursing the fact that he had to drink a case of beer on his own (quite a bit for a little Ecuadorian, particularly one who can't stand drinking).

The next day, in a very soft voice not wanting to exacerbate his headache, Segundo explained that Sunday was for the Kichwa version of the wedding ceremony and reception. He told me that weddings last at least 3 days, sometimes as many as 7 and each day involves just as much food, alcohol and dancing! Well God Bless them for doing it, but I just don't think I have it in me to stay drunk for that long!

What an incredible thing to a part of, and it makes for a hell of story!

Love
Kent