Khadijah Bawazeer

Have you ever been to a late-evening wedding in Jeddah? I was about to say a day but then I remembered that we do not have weddings during the day. It is usually in the evening; late evening actually. In fact, if I come to the wedding place by 10: 30 p.m., chances are I am too early. Most of the ladies arrive by 11:30. You can come a bit earlier or a lot later which would not raise eyebrows the way coming too early would.



By the time I am at the wedding place, I am usually tired and feel the need to go to bed. At the wedding hall, I always fantasize about hiding under one of the big round tables and sleeping. Somehow, instead of feeling gross, it makes me think I will experience something similar to being in a mother’s womb. I would be tired enough to sleep even with so much noise.



After parading in my evening dress and jewelry and saying hello to everyone, I always feel like slipping out, find a couch to sleep on. I did that once and was found by my sisters on their way out.



There is a typical attitude toward our weddings. We keep on complaining about it and saying that we will change it but when it is our turn we just go with the typical, sometimes because kids just want that. Maybe they do not feel or think the same way we do after all!



Weddings follow a torturous routine. In phase one, we go to the hairdresser to have a stiff hairdo that can withstand humidity and delay. Second, we baste our faces with so much make up, we end up looking like clowns. Oh! How proud ladies walk after their hair and makeup have been done in salons.



Comfort or discomfort does not matter, looking glamorous does. Third, we wear our evening dresses and high heels and off we go to the wedding place to start phase two of the extravaganza.



The wedding hall is unusually too cold as if we were Eskimos. I once asked why and was told that cold temperature keeps hairdos in place. There will be loud, mostly bad music to which the ladies dance like crazy. Again, I had asked if the sound could be lowered so I could speak to the lady sitting next to me. In the end, I risked looking weird to no avail. Then the bride comes at the sound of — most of the time — a bad but latest, intermittent music piece. Finally, the guests are freed from the routine to eat and at the end of the night trail off to their cars to go home.



In the wedding aftermath, I end up suffering from what I call a wedding hangover, which I believe the other ladies also suffer silently. Throughout the day, I would move like a zombie unable to accomplish anything until the next day. Voila, one wedding evening is done.