Weddings

Mr. Al Shehri and the groom

I went to three weddings while I was in Saudi Arabia. Mr. Kabini, one of my students, invited me to his house for his cousins wedding party, in Jisan. Another of my students invited me to his own wedding, in Baysh, and Rixat, a fellow teacher, invited me to accompany him to the wedding of one of his students’ friends, in Al Ardha. These last two weddings took place at wedding halls.

The Grand Mufti

Mr. Kabini’s house is in downtown Jizan, a scant 5 blocks from the larger of the teacher’s compounds. Ashanti, Rixat and the Grand Mufti accompanied me.

Ashanti

I had just taken delivery of a suit tailored in the old souk by an Indian tailor, originally from Mumbai. So, not having sprung for a thobe yet, I decided to wear that.

The wedding reception was held in the large outdoor paved area at the front of the house, inside the walls. Practically all Saudi houses that I have seen have walls around them – outside, to the side, some cooks were roasting sheep on large gas barbecue-like cookers. We wandered in, to meet and greet Mr. Kabini, his father and uncles, the lucky cousin and friends. There were perhaps 100 men there. The women, of course, were inside the house, having their own party. I was the only one wearing a suit.

His cousin, Mr. Kabini, an uncle, greeting.

We were shown to our seats, taking off our shoes and sitting on rugs and tarpaulins. Large serving plates, perhaps 30 inches wide, were placed at intervals on the tarps. We drank coke, sprite or water. Naturally there was no alcohol being served, it being forbidden by Wahabist custom and Saudi law alike. On the serving platters were mounds of oiled, spiced basmati rice, topped with roasted sheep meat. Special guests received the head.  We ate with our hands, traditional style.

Afterwards, having washed up with dry laundry soap and water, we were served sweets, tea and coffee, if I recall. Dinner was then cleared away, and the tarps gathered up. Then the Yemeni drum musicians began playing and the dancing started.

The musicians

Some of the dances seemed Saudi - men holding hands and dancing in a line, two or three at a time…but some of the dances seemed quite different, African to me, where the young men would do this kind of chicken dance, wildly. One would dance for a few minutes, replaced by another. Sometimes, their eyes rolled up in their heads, and they seemed on the verge of entering a trance state, the crowd of men and boys surrounding them clapping, swaying and dancing in place. These dancers were, many of them, from Sudan, across the Red Sea. I don’t know if their dances were of African provenance for sure, but they certainly felt it! This went on, with a short break for the musicians, for a couple of hours before we called it quits. I danced some of the Saudi style dances. It was hot, so dancing was like taking a sauna in your clothes.

The second wedding took place, a year or so later, in Baysh, a town about 45 minutes to the northwest. Mr. Essa held his reception at a public wedding house. One of the school’s directors, Jebril Zurbtan, kindly drove Roger and me to Baysh to attend. Thanks!

The wedding building was kind of cool – a large hall with traditional bench/beds (about the size of a single mattress) made of painted wood, with cushions on them. We were shown to our seats, served tea and dates and talked for a while. Then we went into an adjoining, room where plastic sheets and platters of rice and sheep, a kind of more formal khabseh, like at Mr. Kabini’s were laid out. Taking off our shoes, we sat in our places and ate. One new and interesting dish was served in largish red unglazed clay flowerpots! It looked like crumbly brown stuff with sprinklings of bright yellow turmeric across the top. When I asked what it was, I was told ‘dirt’, and ‘earth’.

So of course I had to try it – it was some kind of bread crumb/baked mixture (a bit like turkey stuffing) with pieces of sheep meat in it, and aromatic, bitter turmeric across the top. Eaten with the hand of course. It was good! I was warned, however, not to eat too much of it. If I understood correctly, it was considered an aphrodisiac. Not that I noticed. Later, in class, I was informed that this was a very traditional wedding dish to the region; many of my students knew of it, but had never tried it.

No dancing; the party broke up, very soberly, around 10 pm or so. I didn’t see Mr. Essa for a week.

A few months later Rixat, a fellow teacher, asked if I wanted to attend a wedding in Al Ardh, to the northeast of Jisan. I didn’t know the groom; his friend, Mr. Al Shehri, had invited Rixat. Challenge: a young friend drove us to Abu Arish, where we had to find a taxi to take us to the wedding, further down the road. He helped us. Eventually we pulled up in front of a wedding hall in Al Ardh. I like Al Ardh; it seems to be very spread out; there were no other buildings around the wedding hall. We went inside, greeted, milled. There wasn’t much to say to the groom, as he spoke no English, and my Arabic is not good. After a while we ate, then went outside to dance.

A Yemeni drum troupe (a la Mr. Kabini’s) started drumming - in the dark. There were no lights at all out there!

An older Yemeni man, dressed in a mountain-man sari-like wrap, with his Janbiya, wanted to dance a knife dance with me. It made me a little nervous, as he kept waving it around my head, in the dark, as we bobbed towards and away from each other…but no damage done.

I tried to take some pictures with the iso set to, I think, 6000 or 7200…very grainy, barely recognizable photos. In reality it was dark! After an hour or so, we presented our congratulations and went home.

Rixat, his student, the groom