Thorn's Wedding: Day 1

On Saturday morning, I roused myself just before six in the morning. I hopped in the shower, shaved hurriedly, and set off for the bus station. The seven and a half hour ride was fairly uneventful until we arrived at Banteay Meanchey, where, because of the poor road quality, we were forced to slow to about thirty kilometers an hour. As we trudged along, an incredible amount of dust was kicked up, making it hard to see what was ahead of us and sending stifling particles of dust through the air conditioning.

By about 2:30, I arrived at the transport station in Poipet. While most of the things that I had heard and read about Poipet were extremely negative, my initial impressions were fairly neutral. It certainly wasn’t the most attractive town that I had been to, but there wasn’t anything particularly offensive about it. I made my way to my guesthouse, booked in advance by Thorn, and discovered it was literally across the street from the wedding at his wife-to-be’s house.

Shortly after checking in and about to hop in the shower, I got a message from Thorn saying that I should join him for the cleansing/hair-cutting ceremony. Foregoing the much-needed shower, I rushed to put on my black dress pants and a white button-down shirt. I strolled across the street, through the enormous rectangular red and yellow circus-like tent, past the four person traditional Khmer band, and into Phea’s family’s living room, which had been transformed by colorful flowers, baskets of food, and brightly dressed bridesmaids and groomsmen (Thorn had a stand-in for me since it was possible I would be late). As I sign of respect, I bowed as I entered, finding a seat among Thorn and Phea’s families.

During the cleansing ceremony, various family members of the bride and groom bless them, spray them with perfume, and pretend to cut their hair, so that none of their past misfortunes remain. Throughout the ceremony, a male MC, who was old, toothless and elaborately dressed, sang and danced. Though I didn’t really understand what was going on, the ceremony was quite beautiful and I frequently made eye contact with Thorn, who looked as happy as he should have been.

Following the hour-long ceremony, we had a few minutes to relax. I was finally able to meet Thorn’s wife, Phea – who is shy, but beautiful – and both of their families. Besides Thorn and two of his groomsmen no one spoke English at all, so I got a good opportunity to practice my Khmer. Thorn’s father, an adorable and quite humble farmer, was especially welcoming.

After putting on a striped tie (for I now was officially the best man), I headed downstairs for a ceremony in which Thorn and Phea would receive a blessing from several monks. Five monks sat on the floor before us and Thorn, Phea, one of the bridesmaids, and I, sat opposite them. When praying in the presence of monks, it is necessary to sit with both of your legs out to one side, a very uncomfortable position for an inflexible non-Buddhist. During the ceremony, the monks chanted at length, Thorn and Phea’s parents blessed them, and even I had to follow others’ lead in a bit of praying, putting my palms together in front of my chest, then flat on the ground, and then back in front of my chest in sets of three. Though the hour-long ceremony was fascinating and the chanting both beautiful and mesmerizing, my legs began to give way toward the end.

Following a shower, it was time for dinner, where I had the honor of sitting with Thorn’s parents and some of his other close relatives. We had an assortment of Khmer food, which, for the most part was quite delicious. The one dish I didn’t particularly enjoy, the soup, was the one that Thorn’s father insisted I consume incessantly. Once finished with dinner, one of Thorn’s relatives asked me if I could “puk sra” (drink alcohol). I assured him I was able and joined most of the older gentleman around a table for several rounds of some kind of paint-thinner like whiskey with soda water. Though lacking in taste, it was quite nice to feel so included in all of the events and to be immediately such a part of the family.

Dinner was followed by a ceremony blessing Thorn and Phea’s parents. For the ceremony, Thorn sat behind Phea’s parents and vice versa, holding an umbrella over their heads to symbolize a reversal of the protective role that parents traditionally have for their children. To this point, Thorn and Phea had changed outfits for every different ceremony, whereas I had consistently worn the same thing (though I was assured this would not be the case the following day).

While waiting to head into downtown Poipet to stroll around the five-star hotel-casinos, I chatted with Phea’s grandmother. I had a bit of trouble understanding her and she had to repeat herself several times so that I would have a shot at guessing her meaning. A bit frustrated with my lacking Khmer skills, she gave me a little slap to the face, which I’m told, is the greatest sign of endearment a “yay” (grandmother) can show someone of my age.

Heading into Poipet, my eyes met the most bizarre thing I’ve seen in Cambodia since I’ve arrived and I like to think I’ve seen some strange sights. Enormous hotels were practically on top of each other, each with bright Vegas-style neon lights. I can’t imagine a greater juxtaposition with the modest and austere Cambodian countryside just a few kilometers away. As we walked around, a live band performed on a huge stage to a few hundred curious and relaxed onlookers. Thorn told me that there was live music every night – Phnom Penh is lucky to get a sizeable concert once every few months. Having seen enough, we headed back to Phea’s house and I crashed for the evening.