My Son’s Five-Part Wedding: Part Three: The More or Less Western-style Ceremony

After the Chinese ceremony on Saturday morning we went out for lunch, then had a little quiet time, and then got loaded into various vehicles and driven to Cathy’s favorite restaurant — a nice place sort of out in the country. We’d eaten there the year before. Right now I forget the name; if I remember it later I’ll edit it in.
The notice board
The chef there is a friend of Cathy’s. They don’t ordinarily do weddings, but for Cathy they made an exception.

When we got there the weather was pretty nice, but the skies got steadily more threatening as the afternoon progressed.

There were chairs, tables, and tents set up outside, and the guests and wedding party gradually accumulated there and did the usual sort of shmoozing one does at weddings, until at last the appointed hour arrived. The happy couple stood up at the front of the crowd, where one of the bridesmaids acted as MC and introduced the officiant, who wasn’t any sort of clergy, but Cathy’s first boss from her days at Dell. Cathy considered her a mentor, and had recruited her.

(I believe they originally had asked someone else, who at almost the last minute was unable to make it, so this woman stepped in.)The vows

Vows were exchanged (in English, since Julian doesn’t speak Chinese), the couple kissed, maid of honor and best man gave brief speeches, the fathers were then asked to say a few words — I’d been warned, and had composed a very brief piece I hoped would be suitable.

Half the speeches were in English, half in Mandarin; a couple were delivered in both languages. We sat smiling and uncomprehending through the Chinese ones, and I’m sure several guests did the same thing through the English ones. That was one reason I’d kept mine short.

These substituted for the traditional reception toasts, which weren’t practical because of the restaurant’s layout.

Why the fathers were asked to speak but not the mothers… well. It’s China.

Anyway, when the ceremony was complete everyone headed indoors for the wedding feast — and in a masterpiece of timing, just as the last guest stepped through the door it started pouring rain.The wedding feast

The wedding was spread over three or four rooms; the restaurant did not have a main hall as such. We were at the head table, of course, which was large and round and on one side of the central room. Food and drink began appearing promptly; I didn’t count, but was informed that there were twenty-four courses, cut down from the traditional thirty.

Julian and Cathy made the rounds of the place, talking to all the guests, so I don’t know how much they actually got to eat, but the rest of us stuffed ourselves, to the point I don’t think anyone touched the twenty-fourth course; we were too full by then. (It didn’t go to waste, we were assured; the restaurant staff got the leftovers to take home.)

Some of the guests were from Julian and Cathy’s running club (that’s where they’d met), and they had a reputation for rowdiness to live up to, so things got rather loud at times, and a great deal of liquor (mostly wine and baijiu) was consumed. A good time was had, until at last we wandered back out to the parking lot and got driven back to the villa.

That was Saturday. Sunday morning we did a little hiking, and Sunday afternoon we boarded a large bus that took us all to Cathy’s hometown of Jiande, where we were delivered to the local wedding hotel.

But more of that in Part Four.

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