IFYE Program Newsletter

My host sister's classmate got married today. We drove down to his family's house in Chiayi for the wedding. It was still dark when we entered the yard. Family members dressed in suits stood at the entrance to greet us. My host sister explained that they hadn't slept; they were "tai gaoxing," meaning too happy. Pink marble-sized "tang yuan" (glutinous rice balls used to make sweet soup) were drying on a table in front of the house. A white pig was draped over another. The pig's hooves were polished black and its body marked with red. It carried a ball of red paper in its mouth. Last night the groom's family had prayed over the pig, offering it to the gods in thanksgiving that their son had made it through childhood.

The men gave one of the cars a last-minute wash, then we drove off in a small procession. They wanted to make it to the bride's house by sunrise. As we drove, they threw firecrackers out the car windows. The bride's family lived in another modern style, block country house. When we arrived, a little boy carried out a tray of fruit to offer the groom. Then we crowded into the living room to wait for the bride. The living room was like many that I have sat in since coming to Taiwan. The couch and arm- chairs were wooden, carved, and shiny. Cushions would have only made us hotter. There wasn't any carpet on the floor. As always, a large television took a commanding presence in the room. The giant calendar of Taiwanese fruits was also familiar.

The bride's family hadn't dressed up, and one of the kids was still in his pajamas. When the bride appeared, she and the groom looked like they could be out of an ad in any American wedding magazine. He wore white gloves, a gray suit, and an orchid corsage. She floated above the folds of her white dress with roses in her hair. The one unfamiliar detail was the many gold necklaces and bracelets around her neck and wrists. After posing for the necessary photographs, the bride and groom got down on their knees in front of the bride's parents and bowed repeatedly. The parents helped them up. Then her mother pulled the bride's veil down over her face and started to cry. By Chinese custom, the bride leaves her family to join her husband's parents' household after they are married.

We headed back to the groom's house, accompanied by more firecrackers. The bride and groom's car carried a piece of pork attached to a branch of bamboo. Two friends of the bride came along to keep her company; but her family remained behind. We reached the groom's house by 7:30 a.m. Now that it was light, I could see the long ceiling of black netting under which the family raised their crops of roses and vegetables.

Across the small paved road the land dropped into a rice paddy. In front of the house, a man was already hacking the pig apart with a heavy knife. In a long tent beside the house, preparations had begun to feed the 300 or more guests that would arrive for lunch.

A little after 11:00 a.m., the family went to the third floor of the house. Poultry, watermelon, and sweet soup lay before doll size statues of the gods. There were piles of red painted buns and a few imported American apples. Incense and candles burned continuously. The gods wore so many red and yellow embroidered robes that they were nearly as fat as they were tall. Two of them had crowns larger than their heads. The third just stood and glared at the food.

Here in Taiwan, it seems like whenever there is a back-breaking job to be done, a flock of women my mother's age and older show up to do it. Today, eleven of these women showed up to cook. They came in layers of bright clothing: sleeves tied over their short sleeved shirts, aprons over their pants, a cloth wrapped around their head and neck, and a hat tied on with another. Polka dots, stripes, plaids, and floral prints faced off against the sun. In Taiwan, pale is beautiful; women should not get a tan.

A little after 11:00 a.m., the family went to the third floor of the house. Poultry, watermelon, and sweet soup lay before doll size statues of the gods. There were piles of red painted buns and a few imported American apples. Incense and candles burned continuously. The gods wore so many red and yellow embroidered robes that they were nearly as fat as they were tall. Two of them had crowns larger than their heads. The third just stood and glared at the food.

The bride, groom, and their elders stood before the altar and prayed, bowing, with sticks of incense in their hands. Outside, relatives burned stacks of yellow paper, money for the gods. In front of the house red banners hung with Chinese characters I could not read. A poster-sized wedding portrait of the couple was already developed and framed.

Some mirrors and framed calligraphy, presents to the bride and groom were also displayed. However, most of the gifts they received were money in red envelopes brought by the guests as they arrived for the meal. We started eating around 12:30 p.m. About 40 tables were already packed. My host sister and I sat with other college friends of the groom.

The long, slow meal was good for conversation, but the talk was too quick and too complicated for me to follow. I contented myself with catching an occasional word, and sat and watched the food arrive. The meal was mostly seafood. I lost count after six courses, but the food kept coming for a long time after that. The soups and fish came with portable burners to keep them at the Taiwanese preferred temperature of very of very hot. My host families are always amused that I have to wait for my soup or tea to cool down a little before I drink it.

A truck was backed into the yard and a stage unfolded complete with speakers, a karaoke machine, and four girls who danced and sang. The bride, groom, and both sets of parents lined up on stage for a toast.

The bride's parents had arrived in time for portraits and food. They stood on stage with the others looking somewhat stunned. The bride had changed into a yellow ball gown and had to stand on the stage looking embarrassed while one of the dancing girls tried to get her to kiss the groom.

Finally, the cooking women passed out ice cream, the signal for the guests to finish up and leave. The bride was now in dress number three, a dark red one. She stood with the groom and passed out candy to the departing guests, the final requirement at Taiwanese weddings.

Windsong

Special thanks to the Jefferson Co. Leaders' Association, the Jefferson Co. 4-H Foundation, and the Ridge Runners 4-H Club for their generous help with trip expenses.