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I have finally got around to uploading some of the photos from the wedding, all taken by the photographer, so no credit to me if they are pretty.

I should write a little more about what happened not that I have watched the video and can still remember some of it.

As I think I mentioned earlier, part of the tradition is for the husband to come and collect his new wife from her family home and take her back to the new house.

As Melbourne is a little far, the hotel served in it’s place.

Patrick appeared at the hotel in the early afternoon followed by his fleet of wedding cars, all decked out with pink flowers, ribbons and balloons. We were aware that he was going to push red envelopes on money under the door until my family decided that my value had been met, but weren’t quite sure how much we were supposed to accept.

Finally, after Patrick had exhausted his own pockets, and those of everyone in his party, possibly even a passing security guard, he was allowed into the room. All were very impressed with my uncle and my father for their strict negotiations, I think Patrick had expected to get away cheaply. Ha!

Patrick then had to find my shoes and put them on for me, something he found a little difficult.

I suppose I should actually be very glad he doesn’t know how to put on a pair of stilettos.

We all hopped into the flowery cars for the trip back to our new house, with photographers and video-cameramen hanging out the windows all the way - very paparazzi-like.

Our cars were met at our home by piles of firecrackers in the drive and lines of uncles armed with the Chinese version of those little party poppers that spit out a bunch of streamers when their cord is pulled. The Chinese version is, of course, much larger and packed with a far more generous amount of explosives, so while being rather more scary, they are very impressive.

Once I had been convinced it was safe to get out of the car, we headed upstairs, where I gave Patrick’s parents each a cup of tea, they presented me with more red envelopes and Patrick and I fed each other a little sweet red bean dessert.

A little rest and some photos later, we all piled once again into our cars to be taken to the restaurant.

A blur of photos with 600 guests, more pyrotechnics, a toast with each of the 60 tables, Chinese vows I agreed to without being sure what they meant followed, and suddenly everyone had gone home.

Actually, in true Chinese tradition, really suddenly everyone had gone home.

I have never worked out how everyone knows a dinner has ended, but there is no hanging about for coffee and a chat after any Chinese meal. One minute you’re enjoying your tortoise soup (Granny!!) and the next everyone is half way out the door.

If ever you attend a Chinese dinner, please make sure if you go to the bathroom that everyone will still be there when you return. An acquaintance learned that rule the hard way.

I haven’t had much time to write this week, and now I have some time, I’ve so much to write I don’t know where to begin.

Our wedding was yesterday.  It was, as I said, a bloody good party.

As some may have gathered, I have never been one to dream of my future wedding, and generally really dislike the whole idea full stop.

I have changed my mind now, I just don’t like western style weddings.  Chinese weddings are really cool.

The first part of this wedding that made it rather more bearable for me was the fact that my only input was choosing a dress and turning up to get measured for it a couple of times.

This being the case, the whole thing was like a great big surprise party.  I had been a bit concerned that my Australian family and I would be left bumbling about like idiots as we had no idea what was expected of us or what was going to happen, but all went perfectly.

I don’t think anything could have been done better, it wasn’t stressful for a moment and everyone seemed to have a fantastic time… I want to do it all again!

I was kicked out of the house for a couple of nights so as we could go through the routine of Patrick coming to collect me from my parents and taking me home, so I enjoyed another few nights at my home away from home in our local hotel with the excellent buffet breakfast.  Thankfully it was only two nights, as I think the dresses would have required some altering if it had been any longer.

While I was away, the wedding planner and Patrick’s parents came in with their team of helpers and completely transformed our apartment.  It was such a lovely surprise to come home and find the place decorated.

I am now typing this surrounded by flowers and red lanterns and double happiness characters on every window, such a cheerful atmosphere.  There are even rose petals all over the floor of our bedroom… I might have to pick them up before I vacuum then scatter them again afterwards, I am quite liking them there.

The celebrations were concluded with a Xinjiang style BBQ party in the park this evening, complete with blue fairy lights in all the trees, tables set up alongside the lake, and fireworks along the path behind us.

I don’t have any photos as yet, but will post some soon and write more about our very full two days.

We went to the countryside yesterday as part of our wedding preparations.

We handed out sweets and cigarettes to all the countryside family members then set off fireworks and burned paper money at the family tombstones…. or rather, the other family members set of fireworks while I hid behind the car.

Last time we went to set off fireworks, we got a dodgy bunch, one of which shot rockets out sideways rather than into the sky. Everyone else laughed at all the fun as they scattered in every direction and dived into the surrounding fields, while I nearly had a heart attack in panic.

I don’t like fireworks very much.

This time I was well prepared, so bowed at the tombstones quickly and dashed off behind the car before any explosives could be lit.

Aside from all the scary blowing up of things, the day was a lovely, peaceful trip to the countryside.

We sat by a lake and watched ducks wiggle their bottoms in the air as they dived for food, we played with baby chickens (forgot about the whole bird-flu thing, oops), we picked some cotton and then we absolutely filled the four wheel drive to the roof with all the vegetables we could find.

I think most of the vegetables belonged to the family, but there were a few times Patrick’s mum appeared with fruits I’m pretty sure the family doesn’t grow.

It was all only about 30 minutes drive from home, so I think we should go more often.

I think I am beginning to act like a normal bride-to-be.

I stamped my feet and waved my arms about in frustration in the dressmaker the other day. That’s what I am traditionally supposed to do… right?

I hope my in-laws appreciated my bride-like qualities there, they aren’t going to see so many.

After handing over the printout of my example dress I found during my five minutes of wedding dress search online I tried on a sample they had in-store (for some reason that wasn’t explained to me at the time).

They would have been better off not giving me the big white dress to try on as I felt like a complete dick and wished not to have to wear one again.

After I had changed back into my jeans and was quietly recovering with my steaming green tea, I spotted a pretty knee length green dress hanging to the side of the room. I picked it up and announced to Patrick that I had changed my mind and wanted that dress instead, at which he stood and looked at me for a minute looking a little bit amused and a little bit confused.

Once he decided that he had actually understood what I had said he translated to the rest of the room.

Everyone in the room burst out laughing.

“Don’t be silly! Hahaha. It’s a wedding dress! It must be big and white!”

“… Why?”

“Hahaha! Because it’s a wedding dress!”

“….”

“It’s tradition! Everybody wears a big white dress for their wedding! Hahaha”

So at that point I think I yelled a bit about “Who’s tradition?” and “..married for four years… a bit late for a white dress…” and generally confused myself trying to confirm the logic of a westerner following a Chinese tradition which is really a western tradition that westerners don’t really follow any more…

I lost the argument of course, but at least kept all in the store amused with my odd foreign antics for a few minutes.

In case you’re curious how odd I really look in a wedding dress, one of our original wedding photos (taken without the actual wedding of course.)

Someone asked me the other day how my plans were coming along.

Plans? Weird question….

I said I didn’t really have any plans at the moment, at which she paused for a confused few seconds and said “…for the wedding*?!”

Ooohhh… I see.

A little embarrassing…. Especially seeing as I have had basically the same conversation with at least 5 different people now.

I am just not a ceremony person, I am generally impatient and intolerant of fuss and it irritates me when people don’t just get to the point. Extra fluff just isn’t necessary, and really seems a little wasteful. Weddings fall into the ‘fuss’ category for me.

I thought I might begin looking forward to it when the date got closer, but it hasn’t happened yet. I have a month left to start looking forward… there is still time…

I have to get two dresses made, and they take a month to make. I sat down and looked up a bridal website the other day to see what sort of dress I might like. Mistake! Even last minute pressure isn’t working here.

I have had a painful headache for the last two days, which is possibly from paint fumes, but I am thinking, also very possibly caused by bride.com.

I can not go back there.

There were flowery countdowns to the day; clipboards for flowers, dresses and catering preferences; slimming tips, bridesmaid tips, organisational tips AND a ‘what kind of bride am I?’ survey.

What is this strange world I have stumbled into?

I don’t even know what happens in a Chinese wedding… I just had to insist to the wedding planner not to attempt to make it ‘western’ style for my sake. I hate to think how an enthusiastically organised Hefei x western style wedding could turn out…

Catherine Deveny wrote a (drunken?) bitter opinion piece in The Age recently about modern women changing their names when they get married. I can’t find the link after a quick look, but her follow up after a freakishly large and angry response is here.

The initial article went somewhere along the lines that I am a pathetic, spineless something-or-other for changing my family name to Patrick’s when we got married, which is an opinion she is entitled to, I can’t be bothered to argue it.

What it did make me think about though, is the number of women who don’t change their names now. Clearly ideas of marriage and it’s traditions are changing.

People are marrying later, divorce rates increasing, women are not expected to leave their careers… blah blah.

Why is it that the huge, white, fluffy, wedding extravaganza is still going strong and apparently growing?

It is all too strange for me…. please help me out if you’re one of those girls who kept a wedding scrap-book from the age of seven… or even if you like weddings… I seriously would like to understand what the meaning of it all is.

..but don’t go confusing marriage with weddings, completely different thing.

Anyway, as I said, I have a headache, which today excuses my rant.

I was just avoiding said headache by watching a TV series featuring a similarly uninterested bride to be trying to avoid all her own wedding fuss and caring not at all which cake would be chosen.

Cake!

Now that is something I had completely forgotten about weddings! There is cake!

I may just start looking forward to this after all.

*For anyone getting confused at this point… we are already married and have been for almost four years, we just didn’t get around to the wedding part yet.