I didn't t get to watch the Hollywood stars walk the red carpet wearing their finest Versaci dresses and million dollar diamond necklaces this year. However, Cambodia has it's own version of a fashion show, and it occurs at every wedding. On Tuesday, two of the teachers from my school, Mr. Ut Phirot & Miss Chhoeung Chenda got married. The festivities began with the actual wedding ceremony. I asked who performed the marriage, and was told that there is a woman who lives in Mongkol Borei who does this as her job. She officiates all the weddings, but her credentials for doing so remain unclear.
The attendees walked in a line and carried bowls of fruit to the wedding location and then carried them back to the bride's house. It seemed like a lot of work to me, but hey, I shouldn't complain. I somehow got out of the job and just sat in the shade while everybody else did their thing.
After the ceremony, a bunch of people gave speeches: a Buddhist monk, relatives, people who thought they were comedians... It was all in Khmer, so I kept myself busy by taking inappropriate photos and making snarky comments to Cynthia. Then, the happy couple walked down the aisle to sompai all the guests. Chenda looked so different (beautiful) in her gown and make-up. I literally would not have recognized her.
Although no paparazzi were crying out, "Who are you wearing?" it was obvious that all the women (no matter how poor) own at least one extravagant wedding shirt or dress. They come in all colors and styles with varying amounts of bling.
The higher the silk content, the more expensive the attire. The women looked radiant. The men, on the other hand, looked like the slobs they are and wore regular pants and shirt, not even trying to match or bothering to wear a tie. (So typical.)
After the ceremony, we were handed rose and jasmine flowers to throw at the happy couple as they made their way down the aisle. Not a bad idea given that we had all been sitting there, roasting for a couple hours in the heat.
Cynthia and I won the awards for the worst dressed. It wasn't that we looked bad or didn't try, but we lacked the rhinestone-encrusted shirts, high heels, and lacquered nails of the other women.
Thida asked me what I was going to wear to the luncheon the next day, and I said, "Oh, something like this." In her polite way, she insinuated that perhaps I wear more make-up and try to look more...I don't know....Cambodian?
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