Today was the wedding day, my first attendance of a traditional Vietnamese wedding in my life. On this rather bright and sunny Friday, everyone seemed to be in good spirits, including myself. Nhat got up before me, heading up to the room with all my aunts, the groom, and the sons and daughters. The time was about six o'clock, giving us about three hours until our bus ride down to Hai Nhuan for the wedding. This would be the first time I had gone back to my home village in two weeks, having traveled to so many places. I pulled out my outfit for the wedding, realizing how wrinkled my dress pants and button down shirt looked. "No big deal" I thought, showering, eating some breakfast upstairs with a bunch of tourists, and getting dressed up to head up to the room with the rest of the wedding goers.
Many of my aunties were gone, they had apparently gone to go get dressed and put on make up, leaving a few of my cousins and the three babies of my aunts. I had lost my sunglasses and money pouch the other day, prompted concern from all my aunts, all asking around the guests to see if anyone had seen it. I checked the entire room - nothing. "Hmm... well hopefully I end up finding it," I thought, "no big deal though, its just a pair of sunglasses and around ten dollars worth of Vietnamese Dong." Well it was certainly a big deal to all my aunts and my relatives, all of them looking around and even asking each other if they had seen it, as they had remembered me setting my glasses down in the room the other day. I decided not to let it get to me, focusing instead on the day at hand, a traditional wedding back in my home village.
The groom and his wife, named Thuy, came in the room, along with Thuy's family members and my aunts and cousins. The groom, my cousin Thong, had not gotten his suit yet, frantically getting some money and heading off with Ken, and another one of my cousins, to get suits for themselves. I actually got my shirt ironed before we left, which was probably a good idea! The aunts shook their heads, as they were all ready to go, saying that we had less than thirty minutes to get ready. We eventually gathered all our things and headed down as a group, calling a taxi-bus to take all sixteen of us. The guys eventually got back with their rented suits, quickly putting them on and hopping on the van with us. Finally, we were off to the wedding, which was scheduled at around 10:30 in the morning.
The ride over was rather peaceful, I decided to read and sleep, also thinking about what I was about to witness, wondering what rituals or traditions that the bride and groom would have to engage in. Everyone was excited, though many of them would be staying only for this one day, and then head back to Hue for the rest of the day. I honestly wasn't sure what to do, as my aunt Yen had invited me to spend a day with her in Hue, as she wanted too to head back after the wedding. Decisions... Decisions... I love going back to the village, as everyone is so friendly, so inviting of me to come in and share some time with them, but I also want to get to know my relatives even more, getting every detail about their lives and stories, especially my relatives who made the trip as boat people to the same Hong Kong refugee camp that I and my parents went to. Upon arriving into the village, seeing the familiar architecture and vibrant colors, I decided to leave that thought aside for after the wedding, which was right about to start.
The groom attached his rose corsage, also handing his wife Thuy, a bouquet of roses, lining up side by side. The family members of the two lined up behind them, from grandfathers to children, one family behind their son or daughter. My cousins Nhat and Ken both held two bright red paper lanterns, inscribed with Chinese/Vietnamese characters (Vietnamese used the Chinese writing system for during and slightly after the 1000 years of Chinese occupation of Vietnam until the current Romanized script introduced by the French) and with pictures of children on them. I decided to stay out of the line and film, recording the line of people, all of them probably full of emotion and focused to show the many wedding guests, about a hundred people, their best. And so it began, the announcer in the distance crying out a speech about what was about to take place, the wedding celebration to be held in the household of the groom's family. In Vietnam, as I said in previous article, a wedding follows a strict pattern, with several traditions that have to be done until the final event of the wedding itself, which must occur at the groom's family's household.
As we entered through the small gate into the dining area, which was packed with decorated tables, chairs, and everything else, we were greeted by all the wedding guests, family members within the village all showing up to the wedding. I paused at the front, filming everything, looking at all the guests to see if I recognized any of them, and also looking at the beautifully decorated stage, where the announcer was continuing his speech. All the men and women were dressed up, and I did not notice any children, other than the babies of my aunts there. As I panned my camera around, I did notice that many of the villagers would stare or point at me, talking amongst themselves. It was a little unnerving, though I had an idea of what they were talking about. My uncle, Duong Vien, my aunt Danh's husband, greeted me, shaking my hand and asking me what I thought. "Well, it's beautifully decorated and everyone seems happy" I told him, also greeting some of the entering guests as they walked in. I took a peek into the house, noticing tons of food already prepared, tons of my favorite dishes. "Oh this is going to be amazing!" I thought, thinking of all the delicious foods I was about to engorge myself with, to which Vietnamese weddings are always full of.
I found my seat eventually, looking on as the bride and groom, and their families, entered the their house and waited near their altar to the ancestors, asking for permission to wed and saying their blessings. Now we could begin the ceremony. Music was plentiful, tunes from old Vietnamese folk songs and even the wedding carol everyone knows about was played, the announcer energizing the room. Some fireworks went off, leaving a trail a smoke that eventually revealed two banners representing the importance of marriage in a Vietnamese's life. Many of my relatives noticed me and grabbed me, telling me that I was shown on television the other day and that everyone was talking about it. I blushed and shook my head, laughing a bit as well. When the rings were presented, the ceremony finished, the vows said, and everything else, the entertainment began. Singing, lots of it. The announcer started it up with one of his favorite songs, drawing applause from the crowd, who was now being served all the delicious wedding food. The children of the center asked me to bring them up some food, telling me of all their favorites. I told them I would try, though after realizing that I would have no way to transport it, gave up on the idea.
So many people sang, one person after another being called up by close friends and family to sing. My aunt Cam sang a song, to which I was told to give her a rose (an traditional act of showing appreciation for the singer). I went up on stage, took a photo with her, and sat back down. Right as I was sipping my orange juice from my cup, I heard my name being called up to sing, my aunt calling me up. "Oh no..." I thought, and replied to the request by shaking my head and saying that "I don't know any Vietnamese songs to sing." I was embarrassed at that moment, ashamed for my lack of singing ability in Vietnamese, but still was firm in my decision to not sing. They moved on to another song, giving me a chance to give a breath of relief. The wedding went on for the next two hours, people enjoying each other, toasting to this and that, and applauding all the brave people who went up on stage to sing. To them this was normal, singing in front of an audience, but to me, coming from the American culture of which practiced singers are the ones who perform, it was... different.
It finally ended, all the guests telling the two families their regards and heading on home. At last, peace and quiet. My paternal grandfather was sitting up with the other elders at the time, but called me up to talk with him earlier and after the wedding. He and some family members from the village were actually going to go to Ho Chi Minh City (formally Saigon) the following day, and were going to head up to Hue. I made the decision to go with them, my aunts, cousins, and other relatives back up to Hue for the day to see them off at the airport the next morning, and then returning to Hai Nhuan the following day. To my surprise, my Aunt Yen decided to stay at the village for a while longer, me finding out that it had to do with family members and sending her regards to her mother, my paternal grandmother who was lost three years ago.
We took the same bus back to Hue, my grandfather sitting at the front of the van this time. Everyone was calm, relaxed, ready to take a break for the day. For the rest of the day in Hue, I spent my time with my grandfather and aunts, who rested for most of the day, my cousins Nhat, Ken, Thong, and others going out to buy clothes and play around the city. At one point, I went to go with them and my grandfather to the Big C Supermarket to eat the KFC up there. It was hilarious what they said to my grandfather, joking about his handsomeness and if he wanted to pick up a girl. I merely smiled along. At one point two Vietnamese girls walked by our group, laughing and staring back at us, to which Nhat reacted to my grandfather by saying "do you want her number? I can get it for you." My grandfather chuckled as well, telling him that he was beyond those years, jokingly scolding Nhat for asking him that question. We all laughed together, eating our hot chicken wings and fries (I could not believe I was eating fries of all things in Vietnam...). We headed back to the Gold 2 Hotel, the same hotel we had been staying at, and got on with our activities for the rest of the day.
During the night, of which I spent in a separate room with my grandfather, I read and surfed the web, talking to some friends from college, and thinking about the day. My grandfather was asleep, the room smelled of smoke, as my grandfather decided to smoke another cigar before bed. The T.V. was on, with cartoons. The room was cool and cold, the sounds of Hue nightlife going on outside. At about midnight, I decided to call it a night. However, an unexpected guest showed up in the room right as I got into bed. It was my uncle Vien, who had made the trip up to see my grandfather and aunts off, his wife included. He decided to sleep in my room, telling me that it was too crowded with the twelve or so people in the hotel room upstairs. I decided to speak to him, getting to know him and also talking about my ideas and realizations about Vietnam. So for the next hour into the night, I sat and talked to him, my grandfather quietly snoozing away.
What I had learned really opened my eyes that night. Uncle Vien talked about my father's history, telling me of how my father cares about Vietnam and his family in the home village. "Ben, your father's has had a poor life" he told me. "He made so many sacrifices and took every chance to trying to help our families in the home village" he said, "and he still has called back every single year to check in to see if he can help in anyway. He told me my father was afraid that the younger generation of Vietnamese Americans would forget about the home village, forget about the traditions, and not send any aid back, leaving the older generation to starve and suffer. He continued. "You know your father made his first attempt to leave Vietnam in 1980, when he was 17, but what you probably don't know after that is what happened to him after he got out of prison after getting caught" he said. He told about my father's life in the military, telling me how high in rank in military my father got, and also told me how my father set back his golden military medals back to the home village, for his relatives to sell and use for their lives. I was speechless. I let him continue my father's history. "After three years in the military, your father moved into Nha Trang and found his first wife, having two children, and working in a manufacturing company to make clothes for the military" he told me. After four or so years, he left Nha Trang for Hue, wedding my mother, and eventually making the perilous journey that led to our current life in America. "You know, when I listen to people talk about my father, it just reminds me of how little I know, and how misunderstood I was my whole life about my country, my family, and my culture" I told him, emotion started to take me over as thought over my father's life.
"I'd love to talk some more, but I'm tired, let's talk tomorrow" he said, laying back down. I laid back into my bed, staring at the ceiling, and thinking. Finally I let out a sigh and decided to call it a night at last. I wonder what my father's reaction will be when he reads this entry later today... I'll give him a call soon.
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